Adeline Mowbray Part 32

But her consternation cannot be expressed, when she found that Berrendale imputed her tears to tender anguish at the idea of parting with him: and when, his vanity being delighted by this homage to his attractions, he felt all his fondness for her revive, and, overwhelming her with caresses, he declared that he would reject the offer entirely if by accepting it he should give her a moment's uneasiness; Adeline, shocked at his error, yet not daring to set him right, could only weep on his shoulder in silence: but, in order to make real the distress which he only fancied so, she enumerated to herself all the diseases incident to the climate, and the danger of the voyage. Still the idea of Berrendale's departure was so full of comfort to her, that, though her tears continued to flow, they flowed not for his approaching absence. At length, ashamed of fortifying him in so gross an error, she made an effort to regain her calmness, and found words to a.s.sure him, that she would no longer give way to such unpardonable weakness, as she could a.s.sure him that she wished his acceptance of his father-in-law's offer, and had no desire to oppose a scheme so just and so profitable.

But Berrendale, to whose vanity she had never before offered such a tribute as her tears seemed to be, imputed these a.s.surances to disinterested love and female delicacy, afraid to own the fondness which it felt; and the rest of the evening was spent in professions of love on his part, which, on Adeline's, called forth at least some grateful and kind expressions in return.

Still, however, she persisted in urging Berrendale to go to Jamaica: but, at the same time, she earnestly begged him to remember, that temperance could alone preserve his health in such a climate:--'or the use of pepper in great quant.i.ties,' replied he, 'to counteract the effects of good living?'--and Adeline, though convinced temperance was the _best_ preservation, was forced to give up the point, especially as Berrendale began to enumerate the number of delicious things for the table which Jamaica afforded.

To be brief: Berrendale, after taking a most affectionate leave of his wife and child, a leave which almost made the mulatto his friend, and promising to allow them 200, a-year till he should be able to send over for them, set sail for Jamaica; while Adeline, the night of his departure, endeavoured, by conjuring up all the horrors of a tempest at sea on his pa.s.sage, and of a hurricane and an earthquake on sh.o.r.e when he arrived, to force herself to feel such sorrow as the tenderness which he had expressed at the moment of parting seemed to make it her duty to feel.

But morning came, and with it a feeling of liberty and independence so delightful, that she no longer tried to grieve on speculation as it were; but giving up her whole soul to the joys of maternal fondness, she looked forward with pious grat.i.tude to days of tranquil repose, save when she thought with bitter regret of the obdurate anger of her mother, and with tender regret of the lost and ever lamented Glenmurray.

Berrendale had been arrived at Jamaica some months, when Adeline observed a most alarming change in Savanna. She became thin, her appet.i.te entirely failed, and she looked the image of despondence. In vain did Adeline ask the reason of a change so apparent: the only answer she could obtain was, 'Me better soon;' and, continuing every day to give this answer, she in a short time became so languid as to be obliged to lie down half the day.

Adeline then found that it was necessary to be more serious in her interrogatories; but the mulatto at first only answered, 'No, me die, but me never break my duty vow to you: no, me die, but never leave you.'

These words implying a wish to leave her, with a resolution not to do so how much soever it might cost her, alarmed in a moment the ever disinterested sensibility of Adeline; and she at length wrung from her a confession that her dear William, who was gone to Jamaica as a servant to a gentleman, was, she was credibly informed, very ill and like to die.

'You therefore wish to go and nurse him, I suppose, Savanna?'

'Oh! me no wish; me only tink dat me like to go to Jamaica, see if be true dat he be so bad; and if he die, I den return and die wid you.'

'Live with me, you mean, Savanna; for, indeed, I cannot spare you.

Remember, you have given me a right to claim your life as mine; nor can I allow you to throw away my property in fruitless lamentations, and the indolent indulgence of regret. You shall go to Jamaica, Savanna: Heaven forbid that I should keep a wife from her duty! You shall see and try to recover William if he be really ill,' (Savanna here threw herself on Adeline's neck,) 'and then you shall return to me, who will either warmly share in your satisfaction or fondly sooth your distress.'

'Den you do love poor Savanna?'

'Love you! Indeed I do, next to my child, and,--and my mother,' replied Adeline, her voice faltering.

'Name not dat woman,' cried Savanna hastily; 'me will never see, never speak to her even in heaven.'

'Savanna, remember, she is my mother.'

'Yes, and Mr Berrendale be your husban; and yet, who dat love you can love dem?'

'Savanna,' replied Adeline, 'these proofs of your regard, though reprehensible, are not likely to reconcile me to your departure; and I already feel that in losing you--' Here she paused, unable to proceed.

'Den me no go--me no go:--yet, dearest lady, you have love yourself.'

'Aye, Savanna, and can feel for you: so say no more. The only difficulty will be to raise money enough to pay for your pa.s.sage, and expenses while there.'

'Oh! me once nurse the captain's wife who now going to Jamaica, and she love me very much; and he tell me yesterday that he let me go for nothing, because I am good nurse to his wife, if me wish to see William.'

'Enough,' replied Adeline: 'then all I have to do is to provide you with money for your maintenance when you arrive; and I have no doubt but that what I cannot supply the tawny boy's generous patroness will.'

Adeline was not mistaken. Savanna obtained from her son's benefactress a sum equal to her wants; and almost instantly restored to her wonted health, by her mind's being lightened of the load which oppressed it, she took her pa.s.sage on board her friend's vessel, and set sail for Jamaica, carrying with her letters from Adeline to Berrendale; while Adeline felt the want of Savanna in various ways, so forcibly, that not even Editha could, for a time at least, console her for her loss. It had been so grateful to her feelings to meet every day the eyes of one being fixed with never-varying affection on hers, that, when she beheld those eyes no longer, she felt alone in the universe,--nor had she a single female friend to whom she could turn for relief or consolation.

Mrs Beauclerc, to whose society she had expected to be restored by her marriage, had been forced to give up all intercourse with her, in compliance with the peremptory wishes of a rich old maid, from whom her children had great expectations, and who threatened to leave her fortune away from them, if Mrs Beauclerc persisted in corresponding with a woman so bad in principle, and so wicked in practice, as Adeline appeared to her to be.

But, at length, from a mother's employments, from writing, and, above all, from the idea that by suffering she was making some atonement for her past sins, she derived consolation, and became resigned to every evil that had befallen, and to every evil that might still befall her.

Perhaps she did not consider as an evil what now took place: increasing coldness in the letters of Berrendale, till he said openly at last, that as they were, he was forced to confess, far from happy together, and as the air of Jamaica agreed with him, and as he was resolved to stay there, he thought she had better remain in England, and he would remit her as much money occasionally as his circ.u.mstances would admit of.

But she thought this a greater evil than it at first appeared; when an agent of Berrendale's father-in-law in England, and a friend of Berrendale himself, called on her, pretending that he came to inquire concerning her health, and raised in her mind suspicions of a very painful nature.

After the usual compliments:--'I find, madam,' said Mr Drury, 'that our friend is very much admired by the ladies in Jamaica.'

'I am glad to hear it, sir,' coolly answered Adeline.

'Well, that's kind and generous now,' replied Drury, 'and very disinterested.'

'I see no virtue, sir, in my rejoicing of what must make Mr Berrendale's abode in Jamaica pleasant to him.'

'May be so; but most women, I believe, would be apt to be jealous on the occasion.'

'But it has been the study of my life, sir, to endeavour to consider my own interest, when it comes in compet.i.tion with another's, as little as possible;--I doubt I have not always succeeded in my endeavours: but on this occasion I am certain that I have expressed no sentiment which I do not feel.'

'Then, madam, if my friend should have an opportunity, as indeed I believe he has, of forming a most agreeable and advantageous marriage, you would not try to prevent it?'

'Good heavens! sir,' replied Adeline; 'What can you mean? Mr Berrendale form an advantageous marriage when he is already married to me?'

'Married to you, ma'am!' answered Mr Drury with a look of incredulity.

'Excuse me, but I know that such marriages as yours may be easily dissolved.'

At first Adeline was startled at this a.s.sertion; but recollecting that it was impossible any form or ceremony should have been wanting at the marriage, she recovered herself, and demanded, with an air of severity, what Mr Drury meant by so alarming and ill-founded a speech.

'My meaning, ma'am,' replied he, 'must be pretty evident to you: I mean that I do not look upon you, though you bear Mr Berrendale's name, to be his lawful wife; but that you live with him on the same terms on which you lived with Mr Glenmurray.'

'And on what, sir, could you build such an erroneous supposition?'

'On Mr Berrendale's own words, madam; who always spoke of his connexion with you, as of a connexion which he had formed in compliance with love and in defiance of prudence.'

'And is it possible that he could be such a villain?' exclaimed Adeline. 'Oh my child! and does thy father brand thee with the stain of illegitimacy?--But, sir, whatever appellation Mr Berrendale might choose to give his union with me to his friends in England, I am sure he will not dare to incur the penalty attendant on a man's marrying one wife while he has another living; for, that I am his wife, I can bring pretty sufficient evidence to prove.'

'Indeed, madam! You can produce a witness of the ceremony, then, I presume?'

'No, sir; the woman who attended me to the altar, and the clergyman who married us, are dead; and the only witness is a child now only ten years old.'

'That is unfortunate!' (with a look of incredulity) 'but, no doubt, when you hear that Mr Berrendale is married to a West Indian heiress, you will come forward with incontrovertible proofs of your prior claims; and if you do that, madam, you may command my good offices:--but, till then, I humbly take my leave.'--Saying this, with a very visible sneer on his countenance he departed, leaving Adeline in a state of distress--the more painful to endure from her having none to partic.i.p.ate in it,--no one to whom she could impart the cause of it.

That Mr Drury did not speak of the possible marriage of Berrendale from mere conjecture, was very apparent; and Adeline resolved not to delay writing to her husband immediately, to inform him of what had pa.s.sed, and put before his eyes, in the strongest possible manner, the guilt of what he was about to do; and also the utter impossibility of its being successful guilt, as she was resolved to a.s.sert her claims for the sake of her child, if not for her own. This letter she concluded, and with truth too, with protestations of believing all Mr Drury said to be false: for, indeed, the more she considered Berrendale's character, the more she was convinced that, however selfish and defective his disposition might be, it was more likely Mr Drury should be mistaken, than Berrendale be a villain.

But, where a man's conduct is not founded on virtuous motives and immutable principles, he may not err while temptation is absent; but once expose him to her presence, and he is capable of falling into the very vices the most abhorrent to his nature: and though Adeline knew it not, such a man was Berrendale.

Adeline, having relieved her mind by this appeal to her husband, and being a.s.sured that Berrendale could not be married before her letter could reach him, as it was impossible that he should dare to marry while the mulatto was in the very town near which he resided, felt herself capable of attending to her usual employments again, and had recovered her tranquillity, when an answer to her letter arrived; and Adeline, being certain that the letter itself would be a proof of the marriage, had resolved to show it, in justification of her claims, to Mr Drury.

What then must have been her surprise, to find it exactly such a letter as would be evidence against a marriage between her and Berrendale having ever taken place! He thanked her for the expressions of fond regret which her letter contained, and for the many happy hours which he owed to her society; but hoped that, as Fate had now separated their destinies, she could be as happy without him as she had been with him; and a.s.suring her that he should, according to his promise, regularly remit her 150 a-year if possible, but that he could at present only inclose a draft for 50.

Adeline was absolutely stupified with horror at reading this apparent confirmation of the villany of her husband and the father of her child; but roused to indignant exertion by the sense of Berrendale's baseness, and of what she owed her daughter, she resolved to take counsel's opinion in what manner she should proceed to prove her marriage, as soon as she was a.s.sured that Berrendale's (which she had no doubt was fixed upon) should have taken place; and this intelligence she received a short time after the mulatto herself, who, worn out with sorrow, sickness, and hardship, one day tottered into the house, seeming as if she indeed only returned to die with her mistress.

At first the joy of seeing Savanna restored to her swallowed up every other feeling; but tender apprehension for the poor creature's health soon took possession of her mind, and Adeline drew from her a narrative, which exhibited Berrendale to her eyes as capable of most atrocious actions.