The Last of the Foresters Part 84

"But you must see many n.o.ble things, sir, too,--a great deal of goodness, you know."

"Well, sir, so I do. I don't deny it. There are _some_ men who are not entirely corrupt,--some who do not cheat systematically, and lie by the compa.s.s and the rule. But these are the exceptions. This life and humanity are foul sin from the beginning. Trust no one, young man--not even me; I may turn out a rogue. I am no better than the rest of the wretches!"

"Oh, Mr. Rushton!"

"There you are with your exclamations!"

"Oh, I'm sure, sir--"

"Be sure of nothing; let us end this jabber. How is your mother?" said Mr. Rushton, abruptly.

"She's very well, sir."

"A good woman."

"Oh, indeed she is, sir--I love her dearly."

"Hum! there's no harm in that, though much selfishness, I do not doubt--all humanity is narrow and selfish. There are some things I procured for her."

And Mr. Rushton pointed to a large bundle lying on the chair.

"For _ma mere_!" said Verty.

"Yes; I suppose that, in your outlandish lingo, means _mother_. Yes, for her; the winter is coming on, and she will need something warm to wrap her--poor creature--from the cold."

"Oh, how kind you are, Mr. Rushton!"

"Nonsense; I suppose I am at liberty to spend my own money."

Verty looked at the lawyer with a grateful smile, and said:

"I don't think that what you said about everybody's being selfish and bad is true, sir. You are very good and kind."

"Flummery!" observed the cynic, "I had a selfish motive: I wished to appear generous--I wished to be praised--I wished to attach you to my service, in order to employ you, when the time came, in some rascally scheme."

"Oh, Mr. Rushton!"

"Yes, sir; you know not why I present that winter wardrobe to your mother," said the lawyer, triumphantly; "you don't even know that it is my present!"

"How, sir?"

"May I not stop it from your salary, I should like to know, sir?"

And Mr. Rushton scowled at Verty.

"Oh!" said the young man.

"I may do anything--I may have laid a plot to have you arrested for receiving stolen goods," said the s.h.a.ggy cynic, revelling in the creations of his invention; "I may have wrapped up an infernal machine, sir, in that bundle, which, when you open it, will explode like a cannon, and carry ruin and destruction to everything around!"

This terrific picture caused Verty to open his eyes, and look with astonishment at his interlocutor.

"I may have bought them in to spite that young villain at the store. I heard him," said Mr. Rushton, vindictively--"yes, distinctly heard him whisper, 'There's old Rushton again, come to growl, and not buy anything.' The villain! but I disappointed him; and when he said, "Shall they be sent to your office, sir?" in his odious obsequious voice, I replied, 'No, sir! I am not a dandy or fine gentleman, nor a woman;--you, sir, may be accustomed to have your bundles _sent_--I carry mine myself.' And so, sir, I took the bundle on my shoulder and brought it away, to the astonishment of that young villain, who, I predict, will eventually come to the gallows!"

And the lawyer, having grown tired of talking, abruptly went into his sanctum, and slammed the door.

Verty gazed after him for some moments with a puzzled expression--then smiled--then shook his head; then glanced at the bundle. It was heavy enough for two porters, and Verty opened his eyes at the thought of Mr. Rushton's having appeared in public, in the town of Winchester, with such a ma.s.s upon his back.

"He's very good, though," said Verty; "I don't know why he's so kind to me. How _ma mere_ will like them--I know they are what she wants."

And Verty betook himself to his work, only stopping to partake of his dinner of cold venison and biscuits. By the afternoon, he had done a very good task; and then mounting Cloud, with the bundle before him, he took his way homeward, _via_ Apple Orchard.

CHAPTER LIX.

THE PORTRAIT SMILES.

Our fine Virginia autumn not only dowers the world with beautiful forests, and fresh breezes, and a thousand lovely aspects of the beautiful world--fine golden sunsets, musical dawns, and gorgeous noontides full of languid glory;--it also has its direct influence on the mind.

Would you dream? Go to the autumn woods; the life there is one golden round of fancies, such as come alone beneath waning forests, where the glories of the flower-crowned summer have yielded to a spell more powerful, objects more enthralling--because those objects have the charm of a maiden slowly pa.s.sing, with a loveliness a thousand times increased, and sublimated, to the holy skies.

Would you have active life? That is there too--the deer, and sound of bugles rattling through the trees, and rousing echoes which go flashing through the hills, and filling the whole universe with jubilant laughter. Every mood has something offered for its entertainment in the grand autumns of our Blue-Ridge dominated land: chiefly the thoughtful, however, the serene and happy.

You dream there, under the boughs all gold, and blue, and crimson.

Little things which obscured the eternal landscape, pa.s.s away, and the great stars, above the world, come out and flood the mind with a far other light than that which flowed from earthly tapers and rushlights.

The heart is purer for such hours of thought; and as the splendid autumn marches on with pensive smiles, you see a glory in his waning cheek which neither the tender Spring, nor the rich, glittering Summer ever approached--an expression of hope and resignation which is greater than strength and victory. Ah, me! if we could always look, like autumn, on the coming storms and freezing snows, and see the light and warmth beyond the veil!

Verty went on beneath the autumn skies, and through the woods, the rustle of whose leaves was music to his forest-trained ear; and so arrived at Apple Orchard as the sun was setting brightly behind the pines, which he kindled gloriously.

Redbud was seated at the window; and the kind eyes and lips brightened, as the form of the young man became visible.

Verty dismounted and entered.

"I am very glad to see you!" said Redbud, smiling, and holding out her small hand; "what a sweet evening for your ride home."

Redbud was clad with her usual grace and simplicity. Her beautiful golden hair was brushed back from the pure, white forehead; her throat was enveloped in a circlet of diaphanous lace, and beneath this, as she breathed, the red beads of the coral necklace were visible, rising and falling with the pulsations of her heart. Redbud could not have very readily explained the reason for her fancy in wearing the necklace constantly. It was one of those caprices which every one experiences at times;--and so, although the girl had quite a magazine of such ornaments, she persisted in wearing the old necklace bought from the pedlar. Perhaps the word Providence may explain the matter.

To the girl's observation, that he had a fine evening for his ride homeward, Verty replied--Yes, that he had; that he could not go by, however, without coming to see her.

And as he uttered these words, the simple and tender glances of the two young persons encountered each other; and they both smiled.

"You know you are not very well," added Verty; "and I could'nt sleep well if I did not know how you were, Redbud."

The girl thanked him with another smile, and said:

"I believe I am nearly well now; the cold I caught the other day has entirely left me. I almost think I might take a stroll, if the sun was not so low."