Lily Pearl and The Mistress of Rosedale Part 22

"My mother is a widow in humble circ.u.mstances--"

"Do you imagine that I would burden yourself or your mother?"

"Not that," she interrupted. "I was only thinking of the change from a home of luxury to one of only comfort, yet very peaceful and dear, at least to me. But it would be delightful if I could make them as happy and joyous in _my_ humble home as they have made me in theirs. Will they let me try?"

"Has no one but the three you have mentioned added a morsel to your enjoyment since you have been an inmate of this home?"

The blood rushed to her cheeks and brow and she struggled to liberate herself that he might not look so intently down into her swimming eyes, which she well knew would tell him more than she would have him know.

"Then there was no one else! Well--take them; I will consign them to your care until the detestable struggle is over! When this is done I will relieve you. Bertha is a true rebel and will have no fears in remaining where she is."

The voice of the speaker was low and tremulous as he uttered these words, and Anna thought that she had never before seen his face so pale and thin. He had permitted her to rise and she now stood before him. Did she love him? She had asked herself that question many months previously, and although her lips were prompt in their denial her heart had remained silent. It throbbed now as she met his troubled gaze and beheld the look of sorrow on his face. It was for a moment only. For the first time her eyes fell upon his military dress; it was a rebel uniform! A flood of recollections rolled in upon her in deadly combat.

Would that hand which had so lately touched her cheek spill the life-blood of those who were so dear to her? The thought sent the blood back to her heart and left cheek and lip pallid and cold! With an involuntary shudder she laid her trembling hand on his shoulder and tried to speak, but the words died on her pale lips. George St. Clair pa.s.sed his arm about her and drew her to a seat on the sofa. "You are ill; sit here until I procure some water!"

"No, no; I am not ill; it is over now. You came to talk to me about going home. It is very kind of you"; and, rising, she extended her hand.

He took it tenderly in his as she continued: "I joyfully accept the charge you have placed in my care, and will endeavor to be to them all you could wish; and now, before our last farewell, make me one promise, will you." Her lips quivered, but with an effort she thrust back the tears that were welling up from her full heart, while her hand lay motionless in his. "It is this: Should one or both of my brothers, through the fickleness of war, be thrown into your power, that you will let the memories of the last eighteen months soften your heart with mercy toward them."

"Has this uniform converted me into a monster? I do not wonder? Yet I promise you all and more! G.o.d only knows what those memories of which you speak will do with me. Now we will go and talk the departure over with the rest, yet not with that pale face, Anna. It would add a new pang to the sorrows of my parents, who are now unhappy with the prospects of expulsion, as they term it. Have you not one kind word for me now that we are so soon to part, perhaps never to meet again? O, Anna, I had torn from my life's history several pages which I had determined to read to you to-day, but cannot now." He raised her hand to his lips. "Farewell! we will go. To-morrow, no doubt, you will be busy; the next day we must be in Charleston to intercept a New Orleans steamer going north. This route will be a little longer but more agreeable, as every train is thoroughly searched for any who may be going thither with more information concerning our plans than would be desirable. Again farewell." He dropped her hand and left the room.

Anna sank down again on the sofa, and for a few moments gave vent to her pent-up tears. The succeeding day was full of sadness and bustle. Many tears were shed, and presentiments indulged in. The invincible Bertha alone stood firm and apparently unmoved. Only once did the son and brother appear with the family. He came to dinner, but disappeared as soon as it was over. Anna tried to think of her home, where she would soon be, of the joy of her fond mother at the reunion, but it was piercing the cloud to draw the sunshine from beyond.

In one week the little party arrived safely in Washington; from there they took the cars for Baltimore, and thence to New York.

A few miles back from the n.o.ble old Hudson stands a pleasant little village, nestled in among the green hills and wide-spreading trees, cosy and quiet, excepting where the rapid stream comes rushing down through the valley, turning in its course two huge splashing wheels that never grow weary as they keep on with their work, propelling the machinery of the ma.s.sive cotton mills which were the life and pride of the inhabitants for many miles around. It looked calm and peaceful as seen from the deck of the steamer, where Anna was sitting, and her heart bounded with ecstacy as the pleasant remembrances of her home life came sweeping over her. She had been sitting with the hand of Ellen St. Clair clasped tightly in her own, apparently listening to her exclamations of delight at the grand scenery through which they were pa.s.sing, while in truth she was harkening to other voices that came up from the past, and gazing on the many sweet faces that filled her heart with a new joy, and drew back for a while the dark curtains that seemed to hang between her and the shadowed future.

"I declare, I do not believe you have heard one word I have been saying." This from Ellen at last. "All of that ecstasy is wasted; and I indulge in it so seldom! Tell me, Anna, what were you thinking about?"

"Of home, dear Ellen, and how happy we will all be together."

"But Father thinks we may better take rooms at the hotel; he is afraid."

"I understand all. They will be better acquainted with our habits soon, and, it may be, will think more leniently of us; but I am responsible for your safe-keeping, you know, and could not think of extending my care over more than a mile to the hotel." Anna smiled, while Ellen's laugh reached the parents who were sitting some distance from them.

"They are happy, wife," suggested Mr. St. Clair, "and I reckon we might as well be so too, and make the best of circ.u.mstances."

The little circle in the widow's cottage would have been happy, yes joyous, had there not been two vacant chairs at the evening gatherings and at the morning devotions, while the sound of war came to them from the distance, telling of bloodshed, of anguish, of heart-strings breaking and homes made desolate forever. It was sad; but the widow never ceased to pray, and with her pet.i.tions there went up a meed of praise that He had given her the power to offer, on the altar of sacrifice, her first born, with his brother, both true and n.o.ble.

Colonel St. Clair's letters were frequent, and although full of love and solicitude for his parents and Ellen, he had never more than casually mentioned the name of Anna in any of them. But his sister was with her and she was happy. Having never herself known the love of a sister, she fancied that in this dear friend she had at last found a recompense for her years of unsatisfied longing. Milton has said "The happiness of a nation consists in true religious piety, justice, prudence, temperance, fort.i.tude, and the contempt of avarice and ambition; they in whom these virtues dwell eminently need not kings to make them happy; but are the architects of their own happiness, and whether to themselves or others are not less than kings." And we add, the country who has these virtues and lives upon the principles emanating therefrom needs not war to wipe out injustice and wrong.

CHAPTER XXII.

LEADING HER ON.

The path downward is easy of descent, even though the end thereof be eternal ruin! There were thousands at the time of which we are writing (as well as in all stages of human life) who threw themselves from the lofty pinnacle of true n.o.bility to grovel awhile in the slough of wickedness, then perish forever! How terrible must be the awakening of such a soul, if the kind Ruler should ever permit the awakening to come, and yet worse, sadly worse, would be the unconscious sleep that plunges its victim over the precipice of ruin to be aroused at last beyond the boundaries of hope!

One night after the first signal defeat of the southern army, which seemed to dim for awhile the bright halo of victory that had darted up the horizon from northern skies, a circle of ladies were gathered in a s.p.a.cious parlor in Charleston, doubtless for business purposes, and those of no ordinary character, if we should judge by the earnest debates that were carried on in one corner by a group apart from the rest, or by the sage countenances and serious deportment of the others.

One of the number, a tall lady in black, had arisen from her seat on the sofa, where she had been discussing for a long time some important subject in which all appeared particularly interested, and was now walking with measured tread and folded arms up and down the long parlors, seemingly unconscious of the low buzz of subdued voices which fell on her ear at every turn, for her dark, keen eyes had never once been raised from the carpet on which she was treading.

Just outside of the window stood a large magnolia tree whose upper branches reached the narrow opening made by letting down the window to admit the fragrant air from the blossoms outside. To-night this had not been neglected, and as the heavy lace curtains were pushed slightly to one side a pair of dark, wondering eyes peered down upon the scene below. In the kitchen another group had gathered; their faces were darker and their clothing coa.r.s.er and homelier than those upon which the slave boy was gazing from his elevated seat in the magnolia tree, but the all-absorbing subject had fired the blood and quickened the pulse alike of each. Harry had determined to learn as much as possible about the excitement, and his heart had beat rapidly as he listened to much that had been said by those who had occupied the sofa directly under the window; but he could hear little now and he waited impatiently for the return of the princ.i.p.al speaker who provokingly continued her thoughtful promenade. He was thinking of the light, frail mulatto girl down stairs who was nervously waiting for his appearance and the new secret he was to confide in her; and the half hour seemed to extend to an interminable length.

It ended at last. The tall figure reseated itself in the chair, and the eager face of the listener pressed hard to the frame of the window that his ear might not lose a word.

"Yes; _I will go!_" were the first that reached him.

"You have decided n.o.bly!" exclaimed several in a breath.

"It is just what I knew you would do after deliberating upon it!"

replied the one who seemed to be particularly addressed. "You are so much better fitted for the mission than any one present! Your queenly bearing and imperious manners would command the confidence and respect of strangers. Then your acquaintance in Washington would so materially a.s.sist you! It has been proven that our army must act with skill as well as power, and as the colonel says, 'we _must_ learn something of their plans before they are brought against us, if we are to overthrow them.'

For this you are well adapted as you will have no trouble in mingling with the most refined, or in select circles where such things are ably discussed." Mrs. Belmont had been sitting during this speech seemingly absorbed in her meditations, but the listener outside lost not a word.

"You will disguise yourself in some way, I suppose," suggested another.

Mrs. Belmont aroused herself at this.

"I will take one hundred dollars only of the money subscribed, and will return to this house one week from to-day without a card and my name shall be 'Mrs. Southey.' If Harry does not recognize me I shall feel secure. His keen eyes and quick perceptions would penetrate my mask I know if it could be done. I intend it shall be complete, but this shall be my test!"

An approving hum went round the circle. "But supposing he _should_ know you?" suggested the mistress. "I fear that half-blooded rascal--he knows altogether too much if I can read aright the merry twinkle in his eyes and the inquiring look with which he scrutinizes every stranger who visits here. But we will try him. We must not shrink from any imaginary ill when you are to risk so much for our good," continued the lady.

Harry gave a low chuckle as he thought, "Neber you fear dis chile; he won't know nothin' dis time su' as de worl'! Jus' you watch his eye when Mrs.--Mrs.--what de name; well, 'twant Belmont, dat's sartin!

He-he--reckon dis 'half-blood rascal' got 'nuf dis time!" And the nimble figure scrambled noiselessly down to the ground and darted away to find Nelly who was anxiously waiting for him.

"O Harry!" she exclaimed as he caught her in his arms; "I was _so_ 'feared you'd be wanted! I heard de bell ring and de ladies are agoin'!"

"Let 'em go, Nelly; you'll be a lady some day jes' as good as any on 'em! I heered lots and we's goin' t' be free! Hurrah!"

"O Harry, hush; somebody'll hear ye, sartin'."

"Oh I could yell jus' like de sojers! Hurrah! But dis chile's got to wait; de good time's comin', Nelly, de good time's comin'; but dar's de bell--dat means dis rascal, su'," and away the light figure bounded, leaping up two steps at once as he proceeded to the upper hall where some ladies were standing ready to take their departure.

"Where were you, boy, to make Mrs. Belmont wait so long? I rang twice,"

exclaimed the mistress, as he came slowly into their presence.

"'Spects I must 'a' fell asleep Missus. Didn't hear only dis once."

"You had better keep awake another time. Now hand the ladies to their carriages, and see if you cannot be as polite as your young master would be if he were here." There was a hearty laugh as the servant opened the door, bowing most obsequiously as several pa.s.sed out before him, he following to do the honors of the "young gentleman."

At the appointed time Mrs. Belmont appeared at the door of her friend, and was ushered into the parlor by the facetious Harry, who bowed as unconcernedly as the lady herself could desire. Upon extending his hand for the card he was supposed to expect, she said, blandly: "Tell your mistress that Mrs. Southey is waiting for her"; and bowing low the servant left the room to obey her command. On the staircase he halted to perform several ludicrous gyrations, while the merry twinkle in his eyes laughed itself out, and when he reached his lady's private boudoir they told no tale of inward excitement.

"Mis' Southey is a waitin', Missus." The sharp eyes of the mistress were upon him, but he remained unmoved, whistling a few low notes at the same time beating a subdued tattoo upon the door.

"Mrs. Southey?" repeated the lady, without removing her gaze, but not a muscle moved in the face she was scanning.

"Tell her to come to me," she continued, and the servant departed. Great would have been the chagrin of the mistress had she seen the humble slave boy as he descended to the parlor below. Catching a glimpse of Nelly at the farther end of the long hall, he threw himself into the most laughable contortions, which provoked in her convulsive chuckles at the same time adding a reproof by a dubious shake of the head. In a few moments more the door closed behind Mrs. Belmont as she entered her friend's room and the two were alone together.