Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion Part 33

"My dear sir, a hecatomb would not satisfy Berkeley. I am but his minister, and could not, if I would, arrest his arm. Even now I come by his express directions to ascertain whether any of the rebels may be secreted near your residence. While he does not for a moment suspect your loyalty, yet one of the villains, and he among the foremost in the rebellion, has been traced in this direction."

"Sir," cried Temple, colouring with honest indignation; "dare you suspect that I could harbour a rebel beneath my roof! But remember, that I would as lief do that, abhorrent though it be to my principles, as to harbour a spy."

"My dear sir," said Bernard, softly, "you mistake me most strangely, if you suppose that I could lodge such a suspicion for a moment in my heart; nor have I come as a spy upon your privacy, but to seek your counsel. Sir William Berkeley is so well convinced of your stern and unflinching faith, that he enjoins me to apply to you early for advice as to how I should proceed in my duty."

"Well, my dear boy," said Temple, relapsing into good humour, for he was not proof against the tempting bait of flattery, "you must pardon the haste of an old man, who cannot bear any imputation upon his devotion to the cause of his royal master. While I cannot aid you in your search, my house is freely open to yourself and your party for such time as you may think proper to use it."

"You have my thanks, my dear sir," said Bernard, "and indeed you are ent.i.tled to the grat.i.tude of the whole government. Sir William Berkeley bade me say that he could never forget your kindness to him and his little band of fugitives; and Lady Frances often says that she scarcely regrets the cares and anxiety attending her flight, since they afforded her an opportunity of enjoying the society of Mrs. Temple in her own home, where she so especially shines."

"Indeed, we thank them both most cordially," said Mrs. Temple. "It was a real pleasure to us to have them, I am sure; and though we hardly had time to make them as comfortable as they might have been, yet a poor feast, seasoned with a warm welcome, is fit for a king."

"I trust," said Bernard, "that Miss Virginia unites with you in the interest which you profess in the cause of loyalty. May I hope, that should it ever be our fortune again to be thrown like stranded wrecks upon your hospitality, her welcome will not be wanting to our happiness."

"It will always give me pleasure," said Virginia, "to welcome the guests of my parents, and to add, as far as I can, to their comfort, whoever they may be-more particularly when those guests are among my own special friends."

"Of which number I am proud to consider myself, though unworthy of such an honour," said Bernard. "But excuse me for a few moments, ladies, I have somewhat to say to my sergeant before dinner. I will return anon-as soon as possible; but you know, Colonel, duty should ever be first served, and afterwards pleasure may be indulged. Duty is the prim old wife, who must be duly attended to, and then Pleasure, the fair young damsel, may claim her share of our devotion. Aye, Colonel?"

"Nay, if you enter the marriage state with such ideas of its duties as that," returned the Colonel, smiling, "I rather think you will have a troublesome career before you. But your maxim is true, though clothed in an allegory a little too licentious. So, away with you, my boy, and return as soon as you can, for I have much to ask you."

Released from the restraints imposed by the presence of the Colonel and the ladies, Bernard rubbed his hands and chuckled inwardly as he went in search of his sergeant.

"I am pretty sure we are on the right scent, Holliday," he said, addressing a tall, strapping old soldier of about six feet in height.

"This prejudiced old steed seemed disposed to kick before he was spurred-and, indeed, if he knew nothing himself, there is a pretty little hind here, who I'll warrant is not so ignorant of the hiding-place of her young hart."

"But I tell you what, Cap'n, it's devilish hard to worm a secret out of these women kind. They'll tell any body else's secret, fast enough, but d-n me if it don't seem as how they only do that to give more room to keep their own."

"Well, we must try at any rate. It is not for you to oppose with your impertinent objections what I may choose order. I hope you are soldier enough to have learned that it is only your duty to obey."

"Oh! yes, Cap'n. I've learned that lesson long ago-and what's more, I learned it on horseback, but, faith, it was one of those wooden steeds that made me do all the travelling. Why, Lord bless me, to obey! It's one of my ten commandments. I've got it written in stripes that's legible on my shoulders now. 'Obey your officers in all things that your days may be long and your back unskinned.'"

"Well, stop your intolerable nonsense," said Bernard, "and hear what I would say. We stay here to-night. There is an Indian girl who lives here, a kind of upper servant. You must manage to see her and talk with her. But mind, nothing of our object, or your tongue shall be blistered for it. Tell her that I wish to see her, beneath the old oak tree to night, at ten o'clock. If she refuses, tell her to 'remember Berkenhead.' These words will act as a charm upon her. Remember-Hush, here comes the Colonel."

It will be remembered by the reader that the magic of these two words, which were to have such an influence upon the young Mamalis, was due to the shrewd suspicion of Alfred Bernard, insinuated at the time, that she was the a.s.sa.s.sin of the ill-fated Berkenhead. By holding this simple rod, _in terrorem_, over the poor girl, Bernard now saw that he might wield immense power over her, and if the secret of Hansford's hiding-place had been confided to her, he might easily extort it either by arousing her vengeance once more, or in default of that by a menace of exposure and punishment for the murder. But first he determined to see Virginia, and make his peace with her; and under the plausible guise of sympathy in her distress and pity for Hansford, to excite in her an interest in his behalf, even while he was plotting the ruin of her lover.

With his usual pliancy of manner, and control over his feelings, he engaged in conversation with Colonel Temple, humouring the well-known prejudices of the old gentleman, and by a little dexterous flattery winning over the unsuspicious old lady to his favor. Even Virginia, though her heart misgave her from the first that the arrival of Bernard boded no good to her lover, was deceived by his plausible manners and attracted by his brilliant conversation. So the tempter, with the graceful crest, and beautiful colours of the subtle serpent beguiled Eve far more effectually, than if in his own shape he had attempted to convince her by the most specious sophisms.

CHAPTER XLI.

"Was ever woman in this humour wooed?"

_Richard III._

Dinner being over, the gentlemen remained according to the good old custom, to converse over their wine, while Virginia retired to the quiet little parlour, and with some favourite old author tried to beguile her thoughts from the bitter fears which she felt for the safety of Hansford. But it was all in vain. Her eyes often wandered from her book, and fixed upon the blazing, hickory fire, she was lost in a painful reverie. As she weighed in her mind the many chances in favour of, and against his escape, she turned in her trouble to Him, who alone could rescue her, and with the tears streaming down her pale cheeks, she murmured in bitter accents, "Oh, Lord! in Thee have I trusted, let me never be confounded." Even while she spoke, she was surprised to hear immediately behind her, the well-known voice of Alfred Bernard, for so entirely lost had she been in meditation that she had not heard his step as he entered the room.

"Miss Temple, and in tears!" he said, with well a.s.sumed surprise. "What can have moved you thus, Virginia?"

"Alas! Mr. Bernard, you who have known my history and my troubles for the last few bitter months, cannot be ignorant that I have much cause for sadness. But," she added, with a faint attempt to smile, "had I known of your presence, I would not have sought to entertain you with my sorrows."

"The troubles that you speak of are pa.s.sed, Miss Temple," said Bernard, affecting to misunderstand her, "and as the Colony begins to smile again in the beams of returning peace, you, fair Virginia, should also smile in sympathy with your namesake."

"Mr. Bernard, you must jest. You at least should have known, ere this, that my individual sorrows are not so dependent upon the political condition of the Colony. You at least should have known, sir, that the very peace you boast of may be the knell of hopes more dear to a woman's heart than even the glory and welfare of her country."

"Miss Temple," returned Bernard, with a grave voice, "since you are determined to treat seriously what I have said, I will change my tone.

Though you choose to doubt my sincerity, I must express the deep sympathy which I feel in your sorrows, even though I know that these sorrows are induced by your apprehensions for the fate of a rival."

"And that sympathy, sir, is ill.u.s.trated by your present actions," said Virginia, bitterly. "You would be at the same time the Judean robber and the good Samaritan, and while inflicting a deadly wound upon your victim, and stripping him of cherished hopes, you would administer the oil and wine of your mocking sympathy."

"I might choose to misunderstand your unkind allusions, Miss Temple,"

replied Bernard, "but there is no need of concealment between us. You have rightly judged the object of my mission, but in this I act as the officer of government, not as the ungenerous rival of Major Hansford."

"So does the public executioner," replied Virginia, "but I am not aware that in its civil and military departments as well as in the navy, our government impresses men into her service against their will."

"You seem determined to misunderstand me, Virginia," said Alfred, with some warmth; "but you shall learn that I am not capable of the want of generosity which you attribute to me. Know then, that it was from a desire to serve you personally through your friend, that I urged the governor to let me come in pursuit of Major Hansford. Suppose, instead, he should fall in the hands of Beverley. Cruel and relentless as that officer has already shown himself to be, his prisoner would suffer every indignity and persecution, even before he was delivered to the tender mercies of Sir William Berkeley-while in me, as his captor, you may rest a.s.sured that for your sake, he would meet with kindness and indulgence, and even my warm mediation with the governor in his behalf."

"Oh, then," cried Virginia, trusting words so softly and plausibly spoken, "if you are indeed impelled by a motive so generous and disinterested, it is still in your power to save him. Your influence with the Governor is known, and one word from your lips might control the fate of a brave man, and restore happiness and peace to a broken-hearted girl. Oh! would not this amply compensate even for the neglect of duty? Would it not be far n.o.bler to secure the happiness of two grateful hearts, than to shed the blood of a brave and generous man, and to wade through that red stream to success and fame? Believe me, Mr.

Bernard, when you come to die, the recollection of such an act will be sweeter to your soul than all the honour and glory which an admiring posterity could heap above your cold, insensate ashes. If I am any thing to you; if my happiness would be an object of interest to your heart; and if my love, my life-long love, would be worthy of your acceptance, they are yours. Forgive the boldness, the freedom with which I have spoken. It may be unbecoming in a young girl, but let it be another proof of the depth, the sincerity of my feelings, when I can forget a maiden's delicacy in the earnestness of my plea."

It was impossible not to be moved with the earnest and touching manner of the weeping girl, as with clasped hands and streaming eyes, she almost knelt to Bernard in the fervent earnestness of her feelings.

Machiavellian as he was, and accustomed to disguise his heart, the young man was for a moment almost dissuaded from his design. Taking Virginia gently by the hand, he begged her to be calm. But the feeling of generosity which for a moment gleamed on his heart, like a brief sunbeam on a stormy day, gave way to the wonted selfishness with which that heart was clouded.

"And can you still cling with such tenacity to a man who has proven himself so unworthy of you," he said; "to one who has long since sacrificed you to his own fanatical purposes. Even should he escape the fate which awaits him, he can never be yours. Your own independence of feeling, your father's prejudices, every thing conspires to prevent a union so unnatural. Hansford may live, but he can never live to be your husband."

"Who empowered you to prohibit thus boldly the bans between us, and to dissolve our plighted troth?" said Virginia, with indignation.

"You again mistake me," replied Bernard. "G.o.d forbid that I should thus intrude upon what surely concerns me not. I only expressed, my dear friend, what you know full well, that whatever be the fate of Major Hansford, you can never marry him. Why, then, this strange interest in his fate?"

"And can you think thus of woman's love? Can you suppose that her heart is so selfish that, because her own cherished hopes are blasted, she can so soon forget and coldly desert one who has first awakened those sweet hopes, and who is now in peril? Believe me, Mr. Bernard, dear as I hold that object to my soul, sad and weary as life would be without one who had made it so happy, I would freely, aye, almost cheerfully yield his love, and be banished for ever from his presence, if I could but save his life."

"You are a n.o.ble girl," said Alfred, with admiration; "and teach me a lesson that too few have learned, that love is never selfish. But, yet, I cannot relinquish the sweet reward which you have promised for my efforts in behalf of Hansford. Then tell me once more, dear girl, if I arrest the hand of justice which now threatens his life; if he be once more restored to liberty and security, would you reward his deliverer with your love?"

"Oh, yes!" cried the trusting girl, mistaking his meaning; "and more, I would pledge his lasting grat.i.tude and affection to his generous preserver."

"Nay," said Bernard, rather coldly, "that would not add much inducement to me. But you, Virginia," he added, pa.s.sionately, "would you be mine-would the bright dream of my life be indeed realized, and might I enshrine you in my faithful heart, as a sacred idol, to whom in hourly adoration I might bow?"

"How mean you, sir," exclaimed Virginia, with surprise. "I fear you have misunderstood my words. My love, my grat.i.tude, my friendship, I promised, but not my heart."

"Then, indeed, am I strangely at fault," said Bernard, with a sneering laugh. "The love you would bestow, would be such as you would feel towards the humblest boor, who had done you a service; and your grat.i.tude but the natural return which any human being would make to the dog who saves his life. Nay, mistress mine, not so platonic, if you please. Think you that, for so cold a feeling as friendship and grat.i.tude, I would rescue this skulking hound from the lash of his master, which he so richly deserves, or from the juster doom of the craven cur, the rope and gallows. No, Virginia Temple, there is no longer any need of mincing matters between us. It is a simple question of bargain and sale. You have said that you would renounce the love of Hansford to save his life. Very well, one step more and all is accomplished. The boon I ask, as the reward of my services, is your heart, or at least your hand. Yield but this, and I will arrest the malice of that doting old knight, who, with his fantastic tricks, has made the angels laugh instead of weep. Deny me, and by my troth, Thomas Hansford meets a traitor's doom."

So complete was the revulsion of feeling from the almost certainty of success, to the despair and indignation induced by so base a proposition, that it was some moments before Virginia Temple could speak. Bernard mistaking the cause of her silence, deemed that she was hesitating as to her course, and pursuing his supposed advantage, he added, tenderly,-"Cheer, up Virginia; cheer up, my bride. I read in those silent tears your answer. I know the struggle is hard, and I love you the more that it is so. It is an earnest of your future constancy.

In a short time the trial will be over, and we will learn to forget our sorrows in our love. He who is so unworthy of you will have sought in some distant land solace for your loss, which will be easily attained by his pliant nature. A traitor to his country, will not long mourn the loss of his bride."

"'Tis thou who art the traitor, dissembling hypocrite," cried Virginia, vehemently. "Think you that my silence arose from a moment's consideration of your base proposition? I was stunned at beholding such a monster in the human form. But I defy you yet. The governor shall learn how the fawning favourite of his palace, tears the hand that feeds him-and those who can protect me from your power, shall chastise your insolence. Instead of the love and grat.i.tude I promised, there, take my lasting hate and scorn."

And the young girl proudly rising erect as she spoke, her eyes flashing, but tearless, her bosom heaving with indignation, her nostrils dilated, and her hand extended in bitter contempt towards the astonished Bernard, shouted, "Father, father!" until the hall rung with the sound.

Happily for Alfred Bernard, Colonel Temple and his wife had left the house for a few moments, on a visit to old Giles' cabin, the old man having been laid up with a violent attack of the rheumatics. The wily intriguer was for once caught in his own springe. He had overacted his part, and had grossly mistaken the character of the brave young girl, whom he had so basely insulted. He felt that if he lost a moment, the house would be alarmed, and his miserable hypocrisy exposed. Rushing to Virginia, he whispered, in an agitated voice, which he failed to control with his usual self-command,