Home Influence Part 32

"Mother dearest! what _has_ happened?--that unhappy girl again! I am sure it is. Why do you not cast her off from your heart at once; she will bring you nothing but sorrow for all your love."

"Percy, how can you be so harsh?--how unlike you!" exclaimed Emmeline, indignantly, as Mrs. Hamilton's head, for a few minutes of natural weakness, sunk on her son's encircling arm. "We have all given mamma trouble and pain enough one time or other, and what would have become of us if she had cast us off? and Ellen has no mother, too--for shame!"

"Hush!" answered Percy, almost sternly, for there were times when he could quite throw off the boy. "This is no light or common matter, to affect my mother thus. Shall we send for Mr. Howard, mother?" he continued, fondly; "in my father's absence he is your ablest friend--we can only feel, not counsel."

But there are times when feeling can aid in bringing back control and strength, when counsel alone would seem so harsh and cold, we can only weep before it; and the fond affection of her children, the unusual a.s.sumption of protecting manliness in Percy, so touchingly united with the deep respect that prevented the least intrusive question as to the cause of her distress till she chose to reveal it, gave her power to send back the tears that had escaped at first so hot and fast, and though still holding his hand, as if its very pressure was support, she was enabled calmly to relate the fatal discovery of that evening. Its effect was, in truth, as if a thunderbolt had fallen in the midst of them. An execration, forcibly checked, but pa.s.sionate as his nature, burst from the lips of Percy, as he clamped his arm close round his mother, as thus to protect her from the misery he felt himself. Herbert, with a low cry of pain, buried his face in his hands. Caroline, shocked and bewildered, but her first thought for her mother, could only look at, and feel for her, quite forgetting that her every prejudice against Ellen did indeed seem fulfilled. Emmeline at first looked stunned, then sinking down at Mrs. Hamilton's feet, hid her face on her lap, and sobbed with such uncontrolled violence, that it might have seemed as if she herself, not Ellen, were the guilty cause of all this misery. Miss Harcourt, like Caroline, could only think and feel for Mrs. Hamilton; for she knew so well all the hope, interest, and love which Ellen had excited, and what must be the bitter suffering of this fearful disappointment.

"Do not weep thus, love," Mrs. Hamilton said, addressing Emmeline, after nearly a quarter of an hour had pa.s.sed, and the various emotions of each individual had found vent in words well ill.u.s.trative of their respective characters; all but Emmeline who continued to sob so painfully, that her mother successfully forgot her own sorrow to comfort her. "Ellen is still very young, and though she is giving us all this misery and disappointment now, she may become all we can wish her, by-and-by. We must not give up all hope, because now all my cares seem so blighted. There is some fatal mystery attached to her conduct; for I am indeed deceived if she is not very wretched and there is some hope in that."

"Then why does she not speak?" rejoined Percy, impetuously; for when he found his mother resuming control and firmness, he had given vent to his indignation by striding hastily up and down the room. "What but the most determined hardihood and wickedness can keep her silent, when you promise forgiveness if she will but speak? What mystery can there, or ought there, to be about her, when she has such an indulgent friend as yourself to bring all her troubles to? Wretched! I hope she is, for she deserves to be, if it were only for her base ingrat.i.tude."

"Percy! dear Percy! do not speak and judge so very harshly," interposed Herbert, with deep feeling; "there does, indeed, seem no excuse for her conduct, but if we ever should find that there is some extenuating cause, how unhappy we shall be for having judged her still more harshly than she deserved."

"It is impossible we can do that," muttered Percy, continuing his angry walk. "Nothing but guilt can be the cause of her keeping any thing from my mother. Ellen knows, as we all know, that even error when confessed, has always been forgiven, sorrow always soothed, and every difficulty removed. What can her silence spring from, then, but either defying obstinacy or some blacker sin?"

"It does seem like it, unhappily," rejoined Caroline, but very sorrowfully, not at all as if she triumphed in her own previous penetration; "but she can not persevere in it long. Dear mamma, do not look so distressed: it is impossible she can resist you for any length of time."

"She has resisted every offer of kindness, my dear child, and it is the difficulty as to what course to pursue, to compel submission and confession, that so grieves and perplexes me."

"Let me seek Mr. Howard, dearest mother," answered Herbert; "he is so good, so kind, even in his severest judgments, that I really think Ellen will scarcely be able to persevere in her mistaken silence, if he speak to her."

Mrs. Hamilton paused for some moments in thought.

"I believe you are right, Herbert. If I must have counsel out of my own family, I can not go to a kinder, wiser, or more silent friend. If the fearful shame which I must inflict on Ellen to-night of proving Robert's innocence before my whole household, by the denouncement of her guilt, have no effect in softening her, I will appeal to him."

"Oh, mamma, must this be--can you not, will you not spare her this?"

implored Emmeline, clinging to her mother, in pa.s.sionate entreaty; "it would kill me, I know it would. Do not--do not expose her to such shame."

"Do you think it is no suffering to my mother to be called upon to do this, Emmeline, that you add to it by this weak interference?" replied Percy, sternly, before his mother could reply. "Shame! she has shamed us all enough. There wants little more to add to it."

But Emmeline's blue eyes never moved from her mother's face, and Miss Harcourt, longing to spare Mrs. Hamilton the suffering of such a proceeding, tried to persuade her to evade it, but she did not succeed.

"One word of confession--one evidence that her sin originated in a momentary temptation, that it conceals nothing darker--one real proof of penitence, and G.o.d knows how gladly I would have spared myself and her; but as it is, Lucy, Emmeline, do not make my duty harder."

Few as those words were, the tone that spoke them was enough. No more was said, and Mrs. Hamilton tried, but with very little success, to turn her children's thoughts to other and pleasanter things. Time seemed to lag heavily, and yet when the prayer bell sounded, it fell on every heart as some fearful knell which must have been struck too soon.

All were a.s.sembled in the library, and in their respective places, all but one, and Herbert waited her appearance.

"Tell Miss Fortescue that we are only waiting for her to commence prayers;" and f.a.n.n.y, the young ladies' attendant, departed to obey, wondering at Miss Ellen's non-appearance, but hearing nothing unusual in her mistress's voice. She returned, but still they waited; again the door unclosed, and Emmeline bent forward in an att.i.tude of agony and shame unable even to look at her cousin, whose place was close beside her; but the words she dreaded came not then--Herbert, at his mother's sign, commenced the service, and it proceeded as usual. The fearful struggle in Mrs. Hamilton's gentle bosom, who might read, save the all-pitying G.o.d, whom she so fervently addressed for strength and guidance? The voice of her son ceased, and the struggle was over.

"Before we part for the night," she said, when all but one had arisen, "it is necessary that the innocent should be so justified before you all, that he should no longer be injured by suspicion and avoidance. It is nearly two months since your master a.s.sured you of his own and of my perfect conviction that Robert Langford had told the truth, and that the missing notes had been unfortunately lost by him; not appropriated, as I fear most of you have believed, and are still inclined to do. The complete failure of every search for them has induced a very uncomfortable feeling among you all as to the person on whom suspicion of finding and appropriating them might fall, none but the household frequenting that particular path, and none being able to suppose that the storm could have so dispersed as to lose all trace of them. I acknowledge it was unlikely, but not so unlikely as that Robert Langford should have failed in honesty, or that any of my household should have appropriated or concealed them. All mystery is now, however, at an end; the missing notes have been traced and found; and that all suspicion and discomfort may be removed from among you, it becomes my duty to designate the individual who has thus transgressed every duty to G.o.d and man, not by the sin alone, but by so long permitting the innocent to suffer for the guilty, more especially as that individual is one of my own family"--for one moment she paused, whether to gain strength, or to give more force to her concluding words, no one could tell--"ELLEN FORTESCUE!"

CHAPTER VI.

THE SENTENCE, AND ITS EXECUTION.

The excitement which reigned in the servants' hall, after they had withdrawn, in the most respectful silence, from the library, was extreme. Robert, utterly unable to realize relief in this proof of his own innocence, could only pace the hall in agony, deploring his mad carelessness, which, by exposing to temptation, had caused it all; and Morris and Ellis deepened the remorse by perfectly agreeing with him.

Before they separated, the old steward called them all together; and, his voice trembling with agitation, the tears actually running down his furrowed cheeks, told them that even as their mistress had done her duty to the utmost, ay, more than the utmost by them--for it must have well-nigh broken her heart to do it--a solemn duty was demanded from them to her, and that if either man, woman, or child failed in it, he should know that they had neither feeling, honor, nor grat.i.tude in their hearts, and deserved and should be scouted by them all; and that duty was never to let the event of that night pa.s.s their lips, even to each other. It was enough that all mystery and suspicion had been taken from them, and that time would clear up the remainder; he never would believe the grandchild of his mistress's father, one she had so loved and cared for, could willfully act as appearances seemed to say; that he was sure, one day or other, they would all find there was much more to pity than to blame; and till then, if they had the least spark of generous or grateful feeling, they would forget the whole affair, and only evince their sense of their mistress's conduct, by yet greater respect and attention to their respective duties.

The old man's speech was garrulous, and perhaps often faulty in grammar, but it came from the heart, and so went to the heart at once, and not one held back from the pledge of silence he demanded. There are some who imagine that the refinement of feeling which alone could actuate Morris's speech, and its warm and immediate response, is only to be found among the educated and the rich: how little those who thus suppose understand the human heart! Kindness begets kindness; and if superiors will but think of, and seek the happiness, temporal and eternal, of their inferiors--will but prove that they are considered us children of one common Father--there needs no equality of rank to create equality of happiness, or equality of refined, because _true_ feeling.

The next morning, when Mrs. Hamilton had occasion to speak to Morris about some farm receipts, which had not been forthcoming the preceding day, she recalled him as he was departing; but the words she had to say seemed unusually difficult, for her voice audibly faltered, and her face was completely shaded by her hand. It was simply to ask that which Morris's loving reverence had already done; and when the old man, in those earnest accents of heartfelt respect and kindness which never can be mistaken, related what had pa.s.sed, his mistress hastily extended her hand to him, saying, in a tone he never forgot--

"G.o.d bless you, Morris! I ought to have known your love for your master's house would have urged this, without any request from me. I can not thank you enough." The kiss he ventured to press upon the delicate hand which pressed his rough palm, was not unaccompanied, though he did force back the tear, and most respectfully, yet very earnestly, beseech his mistress not to take on too much. There must be some cause, some mystery; no one belonging to her could so have acted without some very fearful temptation, some very powerful reason, and it would all come straight one day.

But whatever the future, the present was only suffering; for, to obtain a full confession from Ellen, Mrs. Hamilton felt so absolutely inc.u.mbent on her, that she steadily refused to listen to either pity or affection, which could shake her firmness; and the opinion and advice of Mr. Howard strengthened the determination. He had a private interview with Ellen, but it was attended with so very little success, that he left her far more bewildered and grieved than he had sought her; but fully convinced it was mere hardihood and obstinacy, which caused her incomprehensible and most guilty silence. Not even allowing, as Mrs. Hamilton had, that there was any evidence of misery and remorse; perhaps she had been more quiet, more resolutely calm, and if it had not been for the strong appearances against her, he surely must have seen it was the strength and quiet of despair, not the defiance he believed.

"This rebellious spirit must be conquered," he said, on rejoining Mrs.

Hamilton, who, with her children and Miss Harcourt, had most anxiously and yet hopefully awaited the result of his interference. "We should actually be sharing her sin, if we permit her to conquer us by obduracy and self-will. Solitary confinement and complete idleness may bring her to a better temper, and, in fact, should be persisted in, till a full confession be made. If that fail, my dear Mrs. Hamilton, your niece should be banished from Oakwood. She must not remain here, a continual source of anxiety and misery to you, and of successful hardihood to herself; but of that there will be time enough to think when you have an answer from Mr. Hamilton; his judgment from a distance may be wiser than ours on the spot, and irritated as we are by such unaccountable obstinacy in one we have always thought almost too yielding."

And it was this incomprehensible change of character, in seeming, that still more perplexed Mrs. Hamilton, and so made her believe there must be some worse fault, or dangerous entanglement, demanding such resolute pertinacity in concealment.

Closely connected with Ellis's private apartments, and having neither inlet nor outlet, save through the short pa.s.sage opening from her sitting-room, were two small but not uncomfortable apartments, opening one into the other, and looking out on a very pretty but quite unfrequented part of the park. They had often been used when any of Ellis's children or grandchildren came to see her, and were in consequence almost sufficiently habitable, without any further preparation, except the turning one into a sitting-room, which Ellis's active care speedily accomplished. Her mistress inspected them, at her desire, suggested one or two additional comforts, and then held a long confidential conversation with her. She had such perfect confidence in her (for Ellis had been from a child--married, and become mother and widow, and married her children--all as an inmate of the Hamilton family, and had held the confidential post of housekeeper for sixteen years), that she did not hesitate one moment to commit Ellen entirely to her care, at least till she could receive an answer about her from her husband. She depended on her to watch over her health, to see that she took daily exercise with her, in those parts of the park where she was not likely to attract notice, as being with her instead of with any member of her family, and that she took her regular meals; to be with her whenever she took them, and at casual times in the day, not so as to remove the impression of solitude and disgrace, but to be enabled to watch her closely, and the least symptom of a softening spirit to report instantly to her.

"She will, of course, join us in the hours of devotion, though not occupying her usual place, for she who has lowered herself, in the sight of G.o.d and man, beneath the humblest of my domestics, may no longer kneel above them," she said in conclusion. "But of my determination on that point she is already aware; and she will go with us as usual to church; I will have no remark made, further than I can avoid. Be as kind to her as you can, Ellis, consistent with your character as a wise and watchful guardian. G.o.d in mercy grant that her heart may be so softened, that you will not fill that painful position long. And now to see her."

But Percy's watchful care had so quietly interposed, that his mother found herself in their usual sitting-room, and in the midst of them all, before she could seek Ellen; and when, with half reproach, she told him, that she had still a most painful duty to accomplish, therefore he ought not to have prevented it, he answered impetuously--

"Mother, you shall not see Ellen any more alone! she has made you miserable enough already, and each time that she sees you, her deceitful appearance of remorse and suffering, for they _can not_ be real, or she would speak, but add to it; send for her here, and tell her your decision before us all."

And Mrs. Hamilton complied, for she felt as if her firmness would be less likely to fail, than if Ellen attempted any thing like supplication with her alone. But not a word of supplication came. Ellen had answered the summons, by quietly accompanying Ellis, who had been sent for her, to her aunt's presence, pale, indeed, as marble, but so tearless and still, as to seem unmoved. An expression of actual relief stole over her features as she heard her sentence, undisturbed even when told that this would only be, till Mr. Hamilton's sentence came; as, if she continued silent until then, of course whatever severer measures he might dictate would be instantly obeyed. But when Mrs. Hamilton proceeded to say that she intended writing the whole affair to Edward, that his influence might awaken her to a sense of the fearfully aggravated guilt she was incurring by her silence, an expression of the most intense agony succeeded the previous calm, and sinking down before her, Ellen wildly implored--

"Oh, aunt Emmeline, in mercy spare him! do not, oh, do not throw such shame upon him, he who is so brave, admired, honored! do not, oh, if you have any pity left, do not make him hate me, loathe me too, my own only brother! he must throw me off. How can he bear such shame upon his name!

Oh, do with me more than you have said, any thing, every thing, but that. Spare him!"

"Spare him yourself," interposed Percy, sternly.--(He was standing, with his arms crossed, by a window; Herbert was leaning at the back of Mrs.

Hamilton's chair; Caroline and Miss Harcourt trying very steadily to work, and Emmeline bending over a drawing, which her tears were utterly spoiling).--"If the knowledge of your sin make him miserable, as it must, be yourself the one to save him--you alone can. Speak--break this determined and most guilty silence, and his influence will not be needed, and my mother will be silent to him concerning what has pa.s.sed, now and forever, as we will all. If you so love him, spare him the shame you have brought on all of us; if not, it is mere words, as must be the love you have professed all these years for my mother."

Ellen turned her face toward him for a single minute, with such an expression of unutterable misery, that he turned hastily away, even his anger in part subdued, and Mrs. Hamilton could scarcely reply.

"I can not grant your request, Ellen, for to refuse it, appears to me the only means of softening you. It may be a full fortnight before I can write to Edward, for we must receive letters first. If during that interval you choose to give me the only proof of repentance that can satisfy me, or bring the least hope of returning happiness to yourself, I shall now know how to act. I would indeed spare your brother this bitter shame, but if you continue thus obdurate, no entreaties will move me. Rise, and go with Ellis. Punishment and misery, repentance and pardon, are all before you; you alone can choose. I shall interfere no more, till your uncle's sentence comes." And longing to end this painful scene, for her mistress's sake, Ellis led Ellen from the room, and conducted her to the apartments a.s.signed her. She felt much too angry and annoyed at the pain and trouble Ellen, was giving her mistress, to evince any thing like kindness toward her at first, but she had not been under her care above a week before her feelings underwent a complete change.

Suffering as she was enduring, more especially from the conviction, that to every one of those she loved (for affection for each one of the family had now returned with almost pa.s.sionate violence) she must be an object of hate and loathing, yet that her sin was known, was a relief so inexpressibly blessed, she felt strengthened to endure every thing else.

She knew, and her G.o.d knew, the agonized temptation to the momentary act, and the cause of her determined silence. She felt there was strange comfort in that; though she knew no punishment could be too severe for the sin itself, and she prayed constantly to be enabled to bear it, and still not to betray her brother; and the consequence of these pet.i.tions was a calm, gentle, deeply submissive demeanor. Not a murmur ever pa.s.sed her lips, and Ellis scarcely ever saw the signs of tears, which she longed for; for the quiet, but fearfully intense suffering, Ellen's very evident daily portion, alarmed her for its effect upon her always delicate health. As yet, however, there was no outward appearance of its failing, it rather bore up, from the cessation of the nervous dread and constant terror, which she had endured before; and before Mr. Hamilton's letter arrived, a month after the fatal discovery, Ellis had drawn her own conclusions, and her manner, instead of being distant and cold, had become so excessively kind and feeling, that the poor girl felt some heavy change must be impending, she dared not look to the continuance of such comfort.

But Mrs. Hamilton never saw her niece, save when no words could pa.s.s between them; and she could not judge as Ellis did. She could only feel, as each day pa.s.sed, without bringing the desired proof of sorrow and amendment, more and more bewildered, and very wretched. Though, for her children's sake, she so conquered the feeling as, after the first week, to restore cheerfulness, and promote the various amus.e.m.e.nts they had all so enjoyed. Ellen's disappearance had of course to be accounted for, to the intimate friends with whom they so constantly were; but her acknowledgment that she had been disappointed in her, and that her conduct would not allow her any social or domestic indulgence, at least for a time, satisfied the elder members. Annie, for the first time, discovered that Caroline was her match in cleverness, merely from her excessive truth and simplicity, and that, manoeuvre as she might, she could not discover the smallest clew to this sudden mystery. And Mary, for the first time, and on this one subject alone, found Herbert and Emmeline impenetrably reserved.

As soon as Mrs. Langford had been informed by her son, at his mistress's desire, of the unanswerable proof of his innocence, she hastened to the Hall, and requesting a private interview with Mrs. Hamilton, placed at once in her hands all the trinkets and watch, with which she had been at different times intrusted; related all that had pa.s.sed between her and Miss Fortescue, the excessive misery she seemed to be enduring; and confessed that the few pounds she had given her, as the sums obtained by the sale of the trinkets, she had advanced herself, having resolved that nothing should induce her to dispose of them; and that of course it was the difficulty she had in advancing their right value, which had occasioned the length of time that had elapsed since Ellen had first sought her.

"Would it not go far to prove she really did wish to return the money?"

Mrs. Hamilton thought, long after the widow had left her, and the sums she had advanced returned with interest. "Was it to return the fatally appropriated sum, or because she needed more? Ellen had so positively, and with such agony a.s.serted the first, that it was scarcely possible to disbelieve her; but what was this fearful difficulty, this pressing demand by one so young for so much money? Why, if it were comparatively innocent, would she not speak?" The more she thought, the more perplexed and anxious she seemed to become. The act itself of endeavoring to dispose of the trinkets, especially those that had been given and received, as doubly valuable because they had been worn by her mother, would have been sufficiently faulty to have occasioned natural displeasure, but compared with other known and unknown faults, it sunk into almost nothing. Mrs. Hamilton collected them all together, those Mrs. Langford had returned, and the few remaining in her niece's drawer, and carefully put them away, till circ.u.mstances might authorize her returning them to Ellen, and determined on saying nothing more on the subject either to Ellen or her own family.

One thing Ellis reported to her regarding Ellen, which certainly seemed like a consciousness of the wrong she had done Robert, and a wish to atone for it. She begged Ellis so earnestly that she might see him, if it were only for five minutes, that she could not resist her; and when he came, she implored him so touchingly, so pleadingly to forgive her long silence himself, and entreat his mother to do so too; a.s.suring him, that it was the hope of being able to restore the notes to him, without revealing her ident.i.ty, which had caused the silence, that it was scarcely possible to listen to her unmoved. It was no false humility, but the deepest, most unfeigned contrition for having been the cause of injury.

Ten days after Ellen's imprisonment, the letter arrived from Sir Edward Manly, which Mrs. Hamilton had alluded to as necessary to be received, before she could write to her nephew, and the news it brought, though somewhat alloyed, would at another time have been received with the greatest delight. Edward was returning. In three weeks, or a month at the utmost, after the receipt of his commander's letter, he might be with them all; invalided home for a three or four months' leave. There had been another, and rather severe engagement, in which young Fortescue had still more distinguished himself; but from his headlong courage had been severely, but not at all seriously, hurt. Sir Edward intended sending the pirate frigate which they had taken to England, as she was a tight-built, well looking craft enough, he wrote, if manned with honorable men instead of desperate villians; and had nominated Harding and Fortescue to accompany the second lieutenant, as her officers.