CHAPTER XXII.
"A slave had long worn a chain upon his ankle. By the order of his master it was removed. 'Why dost thou spring aloft and sing, O slave? Surely the sun is as fierce and thy burden as heavy as before.' The slave replied: 'Ten times the sun and the burden would seem light, now that the chain is removed.'"--_From the Arabic._
Miss Lois's letter was a wail:
"MY POOR DEAR OUTRAGED CHILD,--What _can_ I say to you? There is no usein trying to _prepare_ you for it, since you would never _conceive_ such_double-dyed_ blackness of heart! Tita has _run away_. She slipped offclandestinely, and they think she has followed _Rast_, who leftyesterday on his way back to St. Louis and the West. Pere Michaux hasfollowed _her_, saying that if he found them together he should, actingas Tita's guardian, insist upon a _marriage_ before he returned! Hefeels himself responsible for _Tita_, he says, and paid no attentionwhen I asked him if no one was to be responsible for _you_! My poorchild, it seems that I have been blind all along; I never _dreamed_ ofwhat was going on. The little minx deceived me completely. I thought herso much improved, so studious, while all the time she was meetingErastus, or planning to meet him, with a skill far beyond _my_comprehension. All last summer, they tell me, she was with himconstantly; those daily journeys to Pere Michaux's island were for thatpurpose, while I supposed they were for prayers. What _Erastus_ thoughtor meant, no one seems to know; but they all combined in declaring thatthe child (child no longer!) was deeply in love with him, and thateverybody saw it save _me_. My New England blood could not, I am proudto say, grasp it! You know, my poor darling, the opinion I have _always_had concerning Tita's mother, who slyly and artfully inveigled yourhonored father into a _trap_. Tita has therefore but followed in hermother's footsteps.
"That Erastus has ever _cared_, or cares now in the least, for her, saveas a plaything, I will _never_ believe. But Pere Michaux is like a_mule_ for stubbornness, as you know, and I fear he will marry them in_any_ case. He did not seem to think of _you_ at all, and when I said,'Anne will _die_ of grief!' he only smiled--yes, _smiled_--and Frenchlyshrugged his shoulders! My poor child, I have but little hope, becauseif he appeals to Erastus's _honor_, what can the boy do? He is the soulof honor.
"I can hardly write, my brain has been so overturned. To think that_Tita_ should have outwitted us all at her age, and gained her pointover everything, over you and over Rast--poor, poor Rast, who will be so_miserably_ sacrificed! I will write again to-morrow; but if PereMichaux carries out his strange _Jesuitical_ design, you will hear fromhim probably before you can hear again from me. Bear up, my dearestAnne. I acknowledge that, so far, I have found it difficult to see theDivine purpose in this, unless indeed it be to inform us that we are allbut cinders and ashes; which, however, I for one have long known."
Mrs. Bryden's letter:
"DEAR ANNE,--I feel drawn toward you more closely since the illness anddeath of our dear Dr. Gaston, who loved you so tenderly, and talked somuch of you during his last days with us. It is but a short time since Iwrote to you, giving some of the messages he left, and telling of hispeaceful departure; but now I feel that I must write again upon asubject which is painful, yet one upon which you should have, I think,all the correct details immediately. Miss Hinsdale is no doubt writingto you also; but she does not know all. She has not perceived, as wehave, the gradual approaches to this catastrophe--I can call it by noother name.
"When you went away, your half-sister was a child. With what has seemedlightning rapidity she has grown to womanhood, and for months it hasbeen plainly evident that she was striving in every way to gain and holdthe attention of Erastus Pronando. He lingered here almost all summer,as you will remember; Tita followed him everywhere. Miss Hinsdale,absorbed in the cares of housekeeping, knew nothing of it; but daily, onone pretext or another, they were together. Whether Erastus wasinterested I have no means of knowing; but that Tita is now extremelypretty in a certain style, and that she was absorbed in him, we couldall see. It was not our affair; yet we might have felt called upon tomake it ours if it had not been for Pere Michaux. He was her constantguardian.
"Erastus went away yesterday in advance of the mail-train. He bade usall good-by, and I am positive that he had no plan, not even a suspicionof what was to follow. We have a new mail-carrier this winter, Denisbeing confined to his cabin with rheumatism. Tita must have slipped awayunperceived, and joined this man at dusk on the ice a mile or two belowthe island; her track was found this morning. Erastus expected to jointhe mail-train to-day, and she knew it, of course; the probability is,therefore, that they are now together. It seems hardly credible that soyoung a head could have arranged its plans so deftly; yet it iscertainly true that, even if Rast wished to bring her back, he could notdo so immediately, not until the up-train passed them. Pere Michauxstarted after them this morning, travelling in his own sledge. He thinks(it is better that you should know it, Anne) that Erastus _is_ fond ofTita, and that only his engagement to you has held him back. Now thatthe step has been taken, he has no real doubt but that Rast himself willwish to marry her, and without delay.
"All this will seem very strange to you, my dear child; but I trust itwill not be so hard a blow as Miss Hinsdale apprehends. Pere Michauxtold me this morning in so many words: 'Anne has never loved the boywith anything more than the affection of childhood. It will be for her arelease.' He was convinced of this, and went off on his journey withwhat looked very much like gladness. I hope, with all my heart, that heis right." Then, with a few more words of kindly friendship, the letterended.
The other envelope bore the rude pen-and-ink postmark of a Northwesternlumber settlement, where travellers coming down, from the North in thewinter over the ice and snow met the pioneer railway, which had pushedits track to that point before the blockade of the cold began.
Tita's letter:
"DEEREST SISTER,--You will not I am sure blaime your little Tita forfollowing the impulse of her _hart_. Since you were hear I have grown upand it is the truth that Rast has loved me for _yeers_ of his own accordand because he could not help it--deerest sister who can. But he neverment to break his word to you and he tryed not to but was devowered byhis love for me and you will forgive him deerest sister will you notsince there is no more hope for you as we were married by Pere Michauxan hour ago who approved of all and has hartily given us hisbennydiction. Since my spiritual directeur has no reproche you will nothave enny I am sure and remain your loving sister,
ANGELIQUE PRONANDO."
"P. S. We go to Chicago to-day. Enny money for _close_ for me could besent to the Illinois Hotel, where my deerest husband says we are tostay.
A. P."
Pere Michaux's letter:
"DEAR ANNE,--It is not often that I speak so bluntly as I shall speaknow. In marrying, this morning, your half-sister Angelique to ErastusPronando I feel that I have done you a great service. You did not lovehim with the real love of a nature like yours--the love that willcertainly come to you some day; perhaps has already come. I have alwaysknown this, and, in accordance with it, did all I could to prevent theengagement originally. I failed; but this day's work has made up for thefailure.
"Angelique has grown into a woman. She is also very beautiful, after apeculiar fashion of her own. All the strength of her nature, such as itis, is concentrated upon the young man who is now her husband. Fromchildhood she has loved him; she was bitterly jealous of you even beforeyou went away. I have been aware of this, but until lately I was notsure of Rast. Her increasing beauty, however, added to her intenseabsorbed interest in him, has conquered. Seeing this, I have watchedwith satisfaction the events of the past summer, and have even assistedsomewhat (and with a clear conscience) in their development.
"Erastus, even if you had loved him, Anne, could not have made youhappy. And neither would you have made him happy; for he isquick-witted, and he would have inevitably, and in spite of all yourtender humility, my child, discovered your intellectual superiority, andin time would have angrily re
sented it. For he is vain; his nature islight; he needs adulation in order to feel contented. On the other hand,he is kind-hearted and affectionate, and to Tita will be a demi-godalways. The faults that would have been death to you, she will neversee. She is therefore the fit wife for him.
"You will ask, Does he love her? I answer, Yes. When he came back to theisland, and found her so different, the same elfish little creature, butnow strangely pretty, openly fond of him, following him everywhere, withthe words of a child but the eyes of a woman, he was at first surprised,then annoyed, then amused, interested, and finally fascinated. Hestruggled against it. I give him the due of justice--he did struggle.But Tita was always _there_. He went away hurriedly at the last, and ifit had not been for Dr. Gaston's illness and his own recall to theisland, it might not have gone farther. Tita understood this as well asI did; she made the most of her time. Still, I am quite sure that he hadno suspicion she intended to follow him; the plan was all her own. Shedid follow him. And I followed her. I caught up with them that very dayat sunset, and an hour ago I married them. If you have not alreadyforgiven me, Anne, you will do so some day. I have no fear. I can wait.I shall go on with them as far as Chicago, and then, after a day or two,I shall return to the island. Do not be disturbed by anything Miss Loismay write. She has been blindly mistaken from the beginning. In truth,there is a vein of obstinate weakness on some subjects in that otherwiseestimable woman, for which I have always been at a loss to account."
Ah, wise old priest, there are some things too deep for even you toknow!
Rast's letter was short. It touched Anne more than any of the others:
"What must you think of me, Annet? Forgive me, and forget me. I _did_try. But would you have cared for a man who had to try? When I think ofyou I scorn myself. But she is the sweetest, dearest, most winninglittle creature the world ever saw; and my only excuse is that--I loveher.
E. P."
These few lines, in which the young husband made out no case forhimself, sought no shield in the little bride's own rashness, but simplyavowed his love, and took all the responsibility upon himself, pleasedthe elder sister. It was manly. She was glad that Tita had a defender.
She had read these last letters standing in the centre of her room,Jeanne-Armande anxiously watching her from the open door. TheFrenchwoman had poured out a glass of water, and had it in readiness:she thought that perhaps Anne was going to faint. With no distinct ideaof what had happened, she had lived in a riot of conjecture for twodays.
But instead of fainting, Anne, holding the letters in her hand, turnedand looked at her.
"Well, dear, will you go to bed?" she said, solicitously.
"Why should I go to bed?"
"I thought perhaps you had heard--had heard bad news."
"On the contrary," replied Anne, slowly and gravely, "I am afraid,mademoiselle, that the news is good--even very good."
For her heart had flown out of its cage and upward as a freed bird dartsup in the sky. The bond, on her side at least, was gone; she was free._Now_ she would live a life of self-abnegation and labor, but withoutinward thralldom. Women had lived such lives before she was born, womenwould live such lives after she was dead. She would be one of thesisterhood, and coveting nothing of the actual joy of love, she wouldcherish only the ideal, an altar-light within, burning forever. Thecares of each day were as nothing now: she was free, free!
In her exaltation she did not recognize as wrong the opposite course shehad intended to follow before the lightning fell, namely, unitingherself to one man while so deeply loving another. She was of so humbleand unconscious a spirit regarding herself that it had not seemed to herthat the inner feelings of her heart would be of consequence to Rast, solong as she was the obedient, devoted, faithful wife she was determinedwith all her soul to be. For she had not that imaginative egotism whichso many women possess, which makes them spend their lives in illusion,weaving round their every thought and word an importance which no oneelse can discern. According to these women, there are a thousandinnocent acts which "he" (lover or husband) "would not for an instantallow," although to the world at large "he" appears indifferent enough.They go through long turmoil, from which they emerge triumphantly,founded upon some hidden jealousy which "he" is supposed to feel, sowell hidden generally, and so entirely supposed, that persons with lessimagination never observe it. But after all, smile as we may, it is onlythose who are in most respects happy and fortunate wives who can soentertain themselves. For cold unkindness, or a harsh and brutal word,will rend this filmy fabric of imagination immediately, never to berewoven again.
Anne wrote to Rast, repeating the contents of the old letter, which hadbeen doomed never to reach him. She asked him to return the wandererunopened when it was forwarded to him from the island; there was a depthof feeling in it which it was not necessary now that he should see. Shetold him that her own avowal should lift from him all the weight ofwrong-doing; she had first gone astray. "We were always like brother andsister, Rast; I see it now. It is far better as it is."
A few days later Pere Michaux wrote again, and inclosed a picture ofTita. The elder sister gazed at it curiously. This was not Tita; and yetthose were her eyes, and that the old well-remembered mutinousexpression still lurking about the little mouth. Puzzled, she took itto mademoiselle. "It is my little sister," she said. "Do you think itpretty?"
Jeanne-Armande put on her spectacles, and held it frowningly atdifferent distances from her eyes.
"It is odd," she said at last. "Ye--es, it is pretty too. But, for achild's face, remarkable."
"She is not a child."
"Not a child?"
"No; she is married," replied Anne, smiling.
Mademoiselle pursed up her lips, and examined the picture with one eyeclosed. "After all," she said, "I can believe it. The _eyes_ aremature."
The little bride was represented standing; she leaned against a pillarnonchalantly, and outlined on a light background, the extreme smallnessof her figure was clearly shown. Her eyes were half veiled by theirlarge drooping lids and long lashes; her little oval face looked small,like that of a child. Her dress was long, and swept over the floor withthe richness of silk: evidently Pere Michaux had not stinted the lavishlittle hands when they made their first purchase of a full-grown woman'sattire. For the priest had taken upon himself this outlay; the "moneyfor close," of which Tita had written, was provided from his purse. Hewrote to Anne that as he was partly responsible for the wedding, he wasalso responsible for the trousseau; and he returned the money which withgreat difficulty the elder sister had sent.
"She must be very small," said mademoiselle, musingly, as they stillstudied the picture.
"She is; she has the most slender little face I ever saw."
"MISS LOIS SIGHED DEEPLY."]
Tita's head was thrown back as she leaned against the pillar; there wasa half-smile on her delicate lips; her thick hair was still braidedchildishly in two long braids which hung over her shoulders and down onthe silken skirt behind; in her small ears were odd long hoops of gold,which Pere Michaux had given her, selecting them himself on account oftheir adaptation to her half-Oriental, half-elfin beauty. Her cheeksshowed no color; there were brown shadows under her eyes. On herslender brown hand shone the wedding ring. The picture was wellexecuted, and had been carefully tinted under Pere Michaux's eye: theold priest knew that it was Rast's best excuse.
Now that Anne was freed, he felt no animosity toward the young husband;on the contrary, he wished to advance his interests in every way that hecould. Tita was a selfish little creature, yet she adored her husband.She would have killed herself for him at any moment. But first she wouldhave killed him.
He saw them start for the far West, and then he returned northward tohis island home. Miss Lois, disheartened by all that had happened,busied herself in taking care of the boys dumbly, and often shook herhead at the fire when sitting alone with her knitting. She never openedthe old piano now, and she was less stringent with her Indian servants;sh
e would even have given up quietly her perennial alphabet teaching ifPere Michaux had not discovered the intention, and quizzically approvedit, whereat, of course, she was obliged to go on. In truth, the old mandid this purposely, having noticed the change in his old antagonist. Hefell into the habit of coming to the church-house more frequently--toteach the boys, he said. He did teach the little rascals, and taughtthem well, but he also talked to Miss Lois. The original founders of thechurch-house would have been well astonished could they have risen fromtheir graves and beheld the old priest and the New England woman sittingon opposite sides of the fire in the neat shining room, which stillretained its Puritan air in spite of years, the boys, and Episcopalapostasy.
Regarding Rast's conduct, Miss Lois maintained a grim silence. Thefoundations of her faith in life had been shaken; but how could she,supposed to be a sternly practical person, confess it to theworld--confess that she had dreamed like a girl over this brokenbetrothal?
"Do you not see how much happier, freer, she is?" the priest would say,after reading one of Anne's letters. "The very tone betrays it."
Miss Lois sighed deeply, and poked the fire.
"Pooh! pooh! Do you want her to be _un_happy?" said the old man."Suppose that it had been the other way? Why not rejoice as I do overher cheerfulness?"
"Why not indeed?" thought Miss Lois. But that stubborn old heart of herswould not let her.
The priest had sent to her also one of the pictures of Tita. One day,after his return, he asked for it. She answered that it was gone.
"Where?"
"Into the fire."
"She cannot forgive," he thought, glancing cautiously at the set faceopposite.
But it was not Tita whom she could not forgive; it was the young mother,dead long years before.
The winter moved on. Anne had taken off her engagement ring, and nowwore in its place a ring given by her school-girl adorers, who hadrequested permission in a formal note to present one to their goddess.As she had refused gems, they had selected the most costly plain goldcirclet they could find in Weston, spending a long and happy Saturday inthe quest. "But it is a wedding ring," said the jeweller.
But why should brides have all the heavy gold? the school-girls wishedto know. Other persons could wear plain gold rings also if they pleased.
So they bought the circlet and presented it to Anne with beating heartsand cheeks flushed with pleasure, humbly requesting in return, for eacha lock of her hair. Then ensued a second purchase of lockets for thishair: it was well that their extravagant little purses were well filled.
To the school-girls the ring meant one thing, to Anne another; shementally made it a token of the life she intended to lead. Free herself,he was not free; Helen loved him. Probably, also, he had alreadyforgotten his fancy for the lonely girl whom he had seen during thosefew weeks at Caryl's. She would live her life out as faithfully as shecould, thankful above all things for her freedom. Surely strength wouldbe given her to do this. The ring was like the marriage ring of a nun,the token of a vow of patience and humility. During all these longmonths she had known no more, heard no more, of her companions of thatsummer than as though they had never existed. The newspapers of Westonand the country at large were not concerned about the opinions andmovements of the unimportant little circle left behind at Caryl's. Theircolumns had contained burning words; but they were words relating to thegreat questions which were agitating the land from the Penobscot to theRio Grande. Once, in a stray number of the _Home Journal_, she found thefollowing paragraph: "Miss Katharine Vanhorn is in Italy at present. Itis understood that Miss Vanhorn contemplates an extended tour, and willnot return to this country for several years. Her Hudson River residenceand her house in the city are both closed." Anne no longer hoped for anysoftening of that hard nature; yet the chance lines hurt her, and gaveher a forsaken feeling all day.
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