CHAPTER XL.
I mounted the stage-coach at daybreak the next day, in company with asallow Frenchman from St. Domingo, his fiddle-case, an ape, and twofemale blacks. The Frenchman, after passing the suburbs, took out hisviolin and amused himself with humming to his own _tweedle-tweedle_. Themonkey now and then munched an apple, which was given to him from abasket by the blacks, who gazed with stupid wonder, and an exclamatory_La! La!_ upon the passing scenery, or chattered to each other in a sortof open-mouthed, half-articulate, monotonous, singsong jargon.
The man looked seldom either on this side or that; and spoke only torebuke the frolics of the monkey, with a "Tenez! Dominique! Prenezgarde! Diable noir!"
As to me, my thought was busy in a thousand ways. I sometimes gazed atthe faces of my _four_ companions, and endeavoured to discern thedifferences and samenesses between them. I took an exact account of thefeatures, proportions, looks, and gestures of the monkey, the Congolese,and the Creole Gaul. I compared them together, and examined them apart.I looked at them in a thousand different points of view, and pursued,untired and unsatiated, those trains of reflections which began at eachchange of tone, feature, and attitude.
I marked the country as it successively arose before me, and foundendless employment in examining the shape and substance of the fence,the barn, and the cottage, the aspect of earth and of heaven. How greatare the pleasures of health and of mental activity!
My chief occupation, however, related to the scenes into which I wasabout to enter. My imaginations were, of course, crude and inadequate;and I found an uncommon gratification in comparing realities, as theysuccessively occurred, with the pictures which my wayward fancy haddepicted.
I will not describe my dreams. My proper task is to relate the truth.Neither shall I dwell upon the images suggested by the condition of thecountry through which I passed. I will confine myself to mentioning thetransactions connected with the purpose of my journey.
I reached Baltimore at night. I was not so fatigued but that I couldramble through the town. I intended, at present, merely thegratification of a stranger's curiosity. My visit to Mrs. Watson and herbrother I designed should take place on the morrow. The evening of myarrival I deemed an unseasonable time.
While roving about, however, it occurred to me, that it might not beimpolitic to find the way to their habitation even now. My purposes ofgeneral curiosity would equally be served whichever way my steps werebent; and to trace the path to their dwelling would save me the troubleof inquiries and interrogations to-morrow.
When I looked forward to an interview with the wife of Watson, and tothe subject which would be necessarily discussed at that interview, Ifelt a trembling and misgiving at my heart. "Surely," thought I, "itwill become me to exercise immeasurable circumspection and address; andyet how little are these adapted to the impetuosity and candour of mynature!
"How am I to introduce myself? What am I to tell her? That I was a sortof witness to the murder of her husband? That I received from the handof his assassin the letter which I afterwards transmitted to her? and,from the same hands, the bills contained in his girdle?
"How will she start and look aghast! What suspicions will she harbour?What inquiries shall be made of me? How shall they be disarmed andeluded, or answered? Deep consideration will be necessary before I trustmyself to such an interview. The coming night shall be devoted toreflection upon this subject."
From these thoughts I proceeded to inquiries for the street mentioned inthe advertisement, where Mrs. Watson was said to reside. The street,and, at length, the habitation, was found. Having reached a stationopposite, I paused and surveyed the mansion. It was a wooden edifice oftwo stories, humble, but neat. You ascended to the door by several stonesteps. Of the two lower windows, the shutters of one were closed, butthose of the other were open. Though late in the evening, there was noappearance of light or fire within.
Beside the house was a painted fence, through which was a gate leadingto the back of the building. Guided by the impulse of the moment, Icrossed the street to the gate, and, lifting the latch, entered thepaved alley, on one side of which was a paled fence, and on the otherthe house, looking through two windows into the alley.
The first window was dark like those in front; but at the second a lightwas discernible. I approached it, and, looking through, beheld a plainbut neat apartment, in which parlour, kitchen, and nursery seemed to beunited. A fire burned cheerfully in the chimney, over which was atea-kettle. On the hearth sat a smiling and playful cherub of a boy,tossing something to a black girl who sat opposite, and whose innocentand regular features wanted only a different hue to make them beautiful.Near it, in a rocking-chair, with a sleeping babe in her lap, sat afemale figure in plain but neat and becoming attire. Her posturepermitted half her face to be seen, and saved me from any danger ofbeing observed.
This countenance was full of sweetness and benignity, but the sadnessthat veiled its lustre was profound. Her eyes were now fixed upon thefire and were moist with the tears of remembrance, while she sung, inlow and scarcely-audible strains, an artless lullaby.
This spectacle exercised a strange power over my feelings. Whileoccupied in meditating on the features of the mother, I was unaware ofmy conspicuous situation. The black girl, having occasion to change hersituation, in order to reach the ball which was thrown at her, unluckilycaught a glance of my figure through the glass. In a tone of halfsurprise and half terror, she cried out, "Oh! see dare! a man!"
I was tempted to draw suddenly back, but a second thought showed me theimpropriety of departing thus abruptly and leaving behind me some alarm.I felt a sort of necessity for apologizing for my intrusion into theseprecincts, and hastened to a door that led into the same apartment. Iknocked. A voice somewhat confused bade me enter. It was not till Iopened the door and entered the room, that I fully saw in whatembarrassments I had incautiously involved myself.
I could scarcely obtain sufficient courage to speak, and gave a confusedassent to the question, "Have you business with me, sir?" She offered mea chair, and I sat down. She put the child, not yet awakened, into thearms of the black, who kissed it and rocked it in her arms with greatsatisfaction, and, resuming her seat, looked at me with inquisitivenessmingled with complacency.
After a moment's pause, I said, "I was directed to this house as theabode of Mr. Ephraim Williams. Can he be seen, madam?"
"He is not in town at present. If you will leave a message with me, Iwill punctually deliver it."
The thought suddenly occurred, whether any more was needful than merelyto leave the bills suitably enclosed, as they already were, in a packet.Thus all painful explanations might be avoided, and I might have reasonto congratulate myself on his seasonable absence. Actuated by thesethoughts, I drew forth the packet, and put it into her hand, saying, "Iwill leave this in your possession, and must earnestly request you tokeep it safe until you can deliver it into his own hands."
Scarcely had I said this before new suggestions occurred. Was it rightto act in this clandestine and mysterious manner? Should I leave thesepersons in uncertainty respecting the fate of a husband and a brother?What perplexities, misunderstandings, and suspenses might not grow outof this uncertainty? and ought they not to be precluded at any hazard tomy own safety or good name?
These sentiments made me involuntarily stretch forth my hand to retakethe packet. This gesture, and other significances in my manners, joinedto a trembling consciousness in herself, filled my companion with allthe tokens of confusion and fear. She alternately looked at me and atthe paper. Her trepidation increased, and she grew pale. These emotionswere counteracted by a strong effort.
At length she said, falteringly, "I will take good care of them, andwill give them to my brother."
She rose and placed them in a drawer, after which she resumed her seat.
On this occasion all my wariness forsook me. I cannot explain why myperplexity and the trouble of my thoughts were greater upon this thanupon similar occasions. However it be, I
was incapable of speaking, andfixed my eyes upon the floor. A sort of electrical sympathy pervaded mycompanion, and terror and anguish were strongly manifested in theglances which she sometimes stole at me. We seemed fully to understandeach other without the aid of words.
This imbecility could not last long. I gradually recovered my composure,and collected my scattered thoughts. I looked at her with seriousness,and steadfastly spoke:--"Are you the wife of Amos Watson?"
She started:--"I am indeed. Why do you ask? Do you know any thingof----?" There her voice failed.
I replied with quickness, "Yes. I am fully acquainted with his destiny."
"Good God!" she exclaimed, in a paroxysm of surprise, and bendingeagerly forward, "my husband is then alive! This packet is from him.Where is he? When have you seen him?"
"'Tis a long time since."
"But where, where is he now? Is he well? Will he return to me?"
"Never."
"Merciful Heaven!" (looking upwards and clasping her hands,) "I thankthee at least for his life! But why has he forsaken me? Why will he notreturn?"
"For a good reason," said I, with augmented solemnity, "he will neverreturn to thee. Long ago was he laid in the cold grave."
She shrieked; and, at the next moment, sunk in a swoon upon the floor. Iwas alarmed. The two children shrieked, and ran about the room terrifiedand unknowing what they did. I was overwhelmed with somewhat liketerror, yet I involuntarily raised the mother in my arms, and cast aboutfor the means of recalling her from this fit.
Time to effect this had not elapsed, when several persons, apparentlyMrs. Watson's neighbours, and raised by the outcries of the girls,hastily entered the room. They looked at me with mingled surprise andsuspicion; but my attitude, being not that of an injurer but helper; mycountenance, which showed the pleasure their entrance, at this criticalmoment, afforded me; and my words, in which I besought their assistance,and explained, in some degree, and briefly, the cause of thoseappearances, removed their ill thoughts.
Presently, the unhappy woman, being carried by the new-comers into abedroom adjoining, recovered her sensibility. I only waited for this. Ihad done my part. More information would be useless to her, and not tobe given by me, at least in the present audience, without embarrassmentand peril. I suddenly determined to withdraw, and this, the attention ofthe company being otherwise engaged, I did without notice. I returned tomy inn, and shut myself up in my chamber. Such was the change which,undesigned, unforeseen, half an hour had wrought in my situation. Mycautious projects had perished in their conception. That which I haddeemed so arduous, to require such circumspect approaches, suchwell-concerted speeches, was done.
I had started up before this woman as if from the pores of the ground. Ihad vanished with the same celerity, but had left her in possession ofproofs sufficient that I was neither spectre nor demon. "I will visither," said I, "again. I will see her brother, and know the full effectof my disclosure. I will tell them all that I myself know. Ignorancewould be no less injurious to them than to myself; but, first, I willsee the Maurices."
Arthur Mervyn; Or, Memoirs of the Year 1793 Page 40