The Black-Sealed Letter Part 1

The Black-Sealed Letter.

by Andrew Learmont Spedon.

CHAPTER I.

Old London!--city of cities!--whose foundations were laid when the ancient Briton in his martial glory prowled among the dense forests whose foliage darkened the waters of the Thames, long ere the foot of the adventurous Roman had touched the sh.o.r.es of Albion; or the Dane and Saxon had established themselves within the strongholds of the British isles. Who has not heard of this great old city, teeming with human life, and filled with the extremes of wealth, poverty, righteousness and iniquity? Who has not heard of its eminent statesmen and its distinguished authors:--its time-honored inst.i.tutions of religion, literature and jurisprudence: its antiquated buildings, themselves volumes of history written the eventful finger of time:--its ma.s.sive warehouses; and also its magnificent mansions, wherein peers and princes banquet in luxury:--its club-houses; and its dens of pollution, amid whose shadows the grim spectres of degraded humanity struggle out a wretched existence. Into this great city--wonderful and complicated in itself--the modern Babylon of the world,--gentle reader, now follow me in imagination, and I will introduce you to the subject of the following story.

It is the Sat.u.r.day evening of a chilly night towards the end of November, 1869, that season of the year in which the grey old buildings of London a.s.sume a more sombre aspect than during the sunny days of summer. The twilight had congealed into darkness after a somewhat foggy day, and mantling its shadows around the homes of the dest.i.tute and degraded, tinging the wretched inmates with melancholy, and even making their lives more miserable and less tenacious to the world. The dark streets have been lighted up. The great tide of human beings that have during the day thronged the thoroughfares, has partially subsided; but thousands of pedestrians are still bustling to and fro; while the din of carriages are heard on every street. The provision shops are crowded with noisy customers. The coffee-houses are steaming forth their delicious viands, where throngs of both men and women are greedily satisfying their appet.i.tes: while thousands of ale-houses and gin-h.e.l.ls are pouring forth their poisonous liquids, where crowds of miserably degraded wretches of both s.e.xes in human shape are swallowing down the deadly elements and rioting in h.e.l.lish revelry. Alas! how many a home has been converted into a mad-house, yea, even into a very h.e.l.l, by these dens of pollution, in which dwell the accursed spirit-dealers of iniquity.

Alas! how many a fond wife, with her little ones, perhaps dest.i.tute of every domestic comfort, is at that very moment anxiously awaiting the return of her husband. Hour after hour may pa.s.s away, until the very depths of night appear to grow sad with the dreary sorrow of her heart, and at length he returns--but not as a loving and sober husband; not as a tender and home-providing father; not as a man, with all the n.o.ble attributes of the human nature; not as a Christian, with the spiritual Balm of Gilead, with which to soothe the cankering ills of his household;--no, not as either he returns, but rather as a madman escaped from the prison walls of Bedlam, or as fiend let loose from the nether kennel.

But, nevertheless, there were thousands of happy households that evening enjoying the domestic comforts of a peaceful home,--that place, the dearest of all on earth, when sanctified by the affection of a united, sober, and industrious family. Such was the home and household of Mr.

Charlston.

Mr. and Mrs. Charlston, their two sons and three daughters, were on that night comfortably seated in their little sitting room after tea; the mother and her daughters engaged at needlework; the father and his eldest son, George, reading the newspapers, while Frederick, the younger, was reclining upon a sofa. An infant of a year old was sleeping in a cradle; a little kitten was nestling at its feet, and purring as if trying to soothe the dreamy slumbers of its tender companion.

Mr. Charlston was about fifty-five years of age, in physical appearance tall and nervous; with sharp, prominent features, and well-defined head, denoting energy and perception. His wife was apparently about fifty years; well proportioned in form and feature, her face expressive of sensibility and affection. The little furrows around her dark eyes, and the streaks of gray hairs, had already denoted the footmarks of elder age; nevertheless, she was still possessed of a considerable share of that beauty which in her younger years had distinguished her as the "Belle of Elton," the village in which she had formerly resided. The daughters in appearance somewhat resembled their mother, the eldest of whom was then in her twenty-first year. George, the first-born of the family, was possessed of a robust const.i.tution, of the middle size, and about twenty-six years of age. Frederick in appearance was the very _facsimile_ of his father, with all the finer sensibilities of his mother; yet, apparently possessed of a stern determination of will, amounting to stubborness when actuated by the impulses of a nervous temperament. Mr. Charlston was a hatter by trade; and at the time referred to kept a hat factory of his own in Fleet Street. His industry had placed him in favorable circ.u.mstances. Estimating the value of labor and intellect, he had given his children a tolerably good education, and at a proper age had apprenticed his sons to become tradesmen. George followed the business of his father. Frederick was a cabinet-maker, and at the time referred to had been two years employed as a journeyman.

Neither Mr. Charlston nor his sons were then addicted to intemperance.

Frederick was a strict teetotaller. Occasionally a bottle of ale was partaken of by the others; or when an acquaintance visited the house, or during the Christmas holidays, an additional bottle might be set down to grace the table. They were, however, a sober and industrious family; and when the labours of the day were past, they generally gathered around the household hearth to spend their evenings pleasantly and profitably to themselves.

On the evening referred to, and whilst Mr. Charlston and family were engaged in their respective duties, as described, the door bell was rung. George attended to the signal; and in a few seconds a young man entered the room, signalizing himself in a very familiar but somewhat uncouth manner.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Charlston. How are you Eliza, Amelia, and Charlotte? and you Frederick, old lad? I didn't see you at work to-day.

I thought something was out of joint with you, and I have come on purpose to see. Why what's the matter with your neck? You have it swaddled up as if you were determined to defy the hangman's rope from ever getting a hold of you," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Charles Holstrom.

"Oh, I have only caught a bit of a cold in my throat," replied Frederick; "come Charlie, take a seat by my side and give us your latest news about town."

The husky voice of Holstrom awoke the infant from its peaceful slumber, and the poor thing began to bawl loudly as if startled from either surprise or fear.

Mrs. Charlston lifted it to her knee, and having hushed it into quietness she began feeding it with some cordial food.

"Well, I declare, he has grown to be a big lump of a lad," exclaimed Holstrom. "I dare say, Frederick, you feel conceited enough now to think yourself a degree above such fellows as George and I are, in having graduated as a Batchelor of Arts--I mean--Bachelor of Babies. You will, no doubt hereafter, append B. B. to your name as a t.i.tle of merit; or, Bad Behavior, I should rather have said. However, the initials will stand for both. He's the very picture of yourself, and will soon need a hat as big as his grandpa's."

At this moment the bell was again rung; and shortly afterwards, a graceful looking young woman entered the room. Very politely she shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. Charlston and the others present. She then took the infant, and pressed it lovingly to her bosom, imprinting a few kisses upon its tiny lips. The child in return smiled affectionately, apparently delighted with the caresses of a recognized and familiar friend.

"I say, Clara," exclaimed Holstrom, addressing the young woman, with whom he was apparently acquainted, "I think it would be charitable on your part to spare a few of those luxuriant caresses for poor Frederick; a slight sprinkling of balm from your roseate lips would work wonders as a remedy to his breathing apparatus. Just come and see how many dozen of blankets he has wrapped around his throat: enough, I am sure, to supply the beds of a whole household on a winter's night."

"Why, Frederick, how did you get such a cold in your throat?"

interrogated Clara.

"By sleeping alone during the cold nights of the past week," retorted Holstrom, ere Frederick could get time to breathe out a more respectful answer.

At this moment the subject was immediately dropped through the timely interference of Mr. Charlston, reading a paragraph of interesting news from the _Times_. After an hour's conversation on various topics the young woman arose and announced her intention of leaving; whereupon Holstrom sprang up, bade them all good night and immediately departed.

Clara shortly afterwards left also, promising ere long to repeat her visit. It was customary for Frederick to accompany her home; but on account of his illness that night George offered to convey her to her residence, distant about one mile.

"Thank you, George, for your kind offer," replied Clara; "but there is no necessity to do so to-night; a female acquaintance who accompanied me to a friend's house a few doors from here, is expecting me to call for her, and perhaps I may be detained for some time, therefore, dear George, excuse me."

No sooner had Clara departed than Frederick, disguised himself in his father's old hat, overcoat and m.u.f.fler, and immediately started in pursuit of Clara.

CHAPTER II.

Before proceeding further it is necessary to inform the reader who Clara and Charles Holstrom were; and, also, to narrate the varied and complicated circ.u.mstances of several years preceding this eventful night.

Charles Holstrom was the youngest son of a London tradesman. He had attended school with Frederick, and was now working in the same shop and at the same business with him. He was possessed of a robust physical appearance, somewhat coa.r.s.ely featured;--of a bold, but humorous disposition--at times impertinent, and even repulsive in his manner.

Frederick had really never considered him as a confidential friend; but their long acquaintance with each other, and the many a.s.sociations of their united course in life had induced him to consider Charles as a respected friend rather than a fellow companion; and from these circ.u.mstances alone the Charlstons had received him as an occasional visitor to their house.

Clara Hazledon was the only daughter of a poor but respectable widow with whom the Charlston family had been long acquainted. Previous to their removal to Fleet street they were next door neighbors. Mr.

Charlston and Clara's father had been early companions of each other.

Their children had grown up together, and had been a.s.sociates at the same school, and although now in unequal circ.u.mstances, still looked upon each other as very familiar friends. After the death of Mr.

Hazledon, he having died when the family was young, his wife struggled hard against adversity to bring up her little ones. But five years after the death of her first husband she married another, who, unfortunately turned out to be only a worthless and degraded fellow. Clara, by her expertness at needlework, had procured a good situation in a millinery shop. Her brothers, all younger than herself, were also respectably employed.

Frederick and Clara had been pa.s.sionately fond of each other when children, and as they grew older their affection became more matured; and at length the sympathies of their love were more firmly united by a marriage engagement, the consummation of which was purposed to take place as soon as circ.u.mstances would render it favorably convenient. But the basis of life's future prospects, however substantial it may be, is often undermined by some casual innovation; and there is no earthly hope, however bright its radiance may appear, but is liable to be darkened by some event that may suddenly loom up from the horizon of life. Such was the case amid the quietude of their affections. By some inadvertent impulse of human nature their chast.i.ty was sacrificed, and Frederick and Clara became parents before they had sanctified their affections upon the altar of matrimony.

The event threw a shadow into the homes of both families, and served as food for the tongues of idle gossips among their acquaintances.

Mrs. Charlston and her daughters paid a respectful visit to the house of Mrs. Hazledon--or Mrs. Collins as she was then named,--and with whom Clara was then staying. They carried with them presents of various sorts; and even Mr. Charlston himself, although chagrined at the event, evinced a charitable spirit by placing twenty guineas in the hand of Clara, as a present in behalf of his grandson.

Frederick stole his visits under the secret shades of evening, and showed every expression of sympathy and affection for Clara and the little one; at the same time promising the consummation of their union as soon as circ.u.mstances would conveniently permit. A few weeks after the birth of the child, in December of 1868, Frederick made a tour into Devonshire for the purpose of visiting an uncle residing in the town of Exeter, and also discovering some thriving village or town where he might find ready employment, with the view of eventually establishing himself in business to his own advantage. He at length selected Tiverton as his place of residence, where he procured work at favorable wages.

Elated with success he immediately wrote to his parents, and also penned a lengthy epistle to Clara, describing the place and people in very flattering words, flourishing off with a few epithets expressive of his undying affection for herself and the child; and hoping that in a few months he would have the pleasure of introducing her to a comfortable home, under the happy t.i.tle of Mrs. Frederick Charlston.

Winter pa.s.sed slowly along, during which time letters were frequently sent and received. The first day of May at length came, but no house was apparently provided for Clara and her child. Shortly afterwards Frederick returned home, and made known the intelligence that he had given up the idea of settling in Tiverton as he had decided upon making his future home in Canada, which place had been described by an emigrant agent who had lectured several nights in the town, as one of the finest countries in the world for the workingmen of England; that millions of acres of land were there to be given away, and every actual settler received 100 acres _gratis_. A river one hundred times larger than all the rivers of England put together, ran the whole length of the country, 1500 miles long. There were lakes there so large that even into the smallest of them the whole island of Great Britain might be thrown, and sink beyond recovery. In fact, said he, "it possessed all the facilities and improvements of the 19th century;--equality, independence and wealth awaiting every industrious man who went thither;--it was, indeed, the workshop of the tradesman, the emporium of the trader, and above all, blessed be the fact, _it was the poor man's paradise upon earth_."

Frederick soon discovered that the big bubble he had blown up was likely to be blown down. His mother and sisters strongly objected to his purpose, and begged of him not to bury himself out of the world as long as he had an opportunity of living in it.

"Why, Frederick," exclaimed his father, "were you to go to Canada you would repent of it but once, and that will be as long as you live. You talk of free-lands; why, of what use would they be to you? They might be of service to those who have been long accustomed to outside labor. But for you to go into the dense forests amidst mountains of almost perpetual snow, to chop out for yourself a fortune, or even a livelihood, would be a thousand times worse than banishment to the icy deserts of Siberia. For my sake, and for the love you owe to all that are dear to you in England, I beseech of you to relinquish, at least for the present, your design. Get married at once, and settle down quietly and industriously to work, either at Tiverton or in London, and I will a.s.sist in the furnishing of a house for you and Clara."

Frederick made no satisfactory reply.

On the second evening after he had come home, Charlie Holstrom, having heard of his return, called to see him.

"A thousand welcomes back, old lad," exclaimed H., heartily shaking the hand of his old a.s.sociate. "Why, my dear fellow, I've come over to bid you good bye, as I heard to-day that you are going to the Cannibal Islands."

Mr. Charlston and the others laughed heartily at the expression.

"It is only to Canada that I intend to ship myself," replied Frederick somewhat shyly.

"Worse, and worse!" retorted H. "Why, what do you expect to get there?"

"Get a farm for nothing, and make a fortune in five years," said Frederick.

"If the farm is to be given away for nothing I may venture to say, _it will be worth nothing_," replied H., and continued, "I had an acquaintance who went to Canada a few years ago with 500; and having lived three years upon one of those 'nothing farms' or rather, living upon his money during that time, he returned to England utterly worth _nothing_. Why, Fred! such farms may be suitable enough for men of iron muscles and wooden stomachs, and who can work whether they eat or not;--men who have nothing to lose except their life, and would even sacrifice that for a small amount. But for either you or I to go there in search of a living, or anything else, except death and horror, would be worse for us than hanging; it would eventually result in strangulation by starvation. And besides, as my acquaintance informed me, the woods are infested with wild animals; and if a fellow attempted to venture out at night very possibly his carca.s.s would be very soon deposited in the inside of a dozen of wolves. He further told me that the trees during summer rained down myriads of mosquitoes as large as beetles, with stings like hornets and in the shape of a tube, by which means a dozen of them could suck up a fellow's blood in a night; and were by far a greater plague than the gra.s.shoppers of Egypt. To prevent them from settling upon himself he covered his head and neck with a mask made from deer-skin, in which he cut holes to inhale air and see through; but despite of such precautions they would sometimes force their way through these orifices, and one dart, said he, into a fellow's eye was sufficient to cause a myriad of stars to fly from his winker."

"Well, but that is really horrifying," exclaimed Mrs. Charlston.