The Last of the Foresters Part 95

Roundjacket is the public character when he speaks thus--he is flourishing his ruler. It is only when Miss Lavinia has descended that he ogles that lady. Suddenly, however, he resumes his n.o.ble and lofty carriage, and waves the ruler at his friend, St. Michael--tailor and client--by name, O'Brallaghan.

The crowd pa.s.ses on, with thundering drums and defiant shouts; and our party, from Apple Orchard, having affixed their horses to the wall, near at hand, gaze on the masquerade from Mr. Rushton's office.

We have given but a few words to the strange pageant which swept on through the main street of the old border town; and this because any accurate description is almost wholly impossible. Let the reader endeavor to imagine Pandemonium broke loose, with all its burly inmates, and thundering voices, and _outre_ forms, and, perhaps, the general idea in his mind may convey to him some impression of the rout which swept by with its shouts and mad defiances.

Some were clad in coat and pantaloons only; others had forgotten the coat, and exposed brawny and hirsute torsos to the October sun, and swelling muscles worthy of Athletes.

Others, again, were almost _sans-culottes_, only a remnant being left, which made the deficiency more tantalizingly painful to the eye.

Let the reader, then, imagine this spectacle of torn garments, tattered hats, and brandished clubs--not forgetting the tatterdemalion negro children, who ran after the crowd in the last state of dilapidation, and he will have some slight idea of the masquerade, over which rode, in supreme majesty, the trunk-nosed Mr. O'Brallaghan.

We need not repeat the observations of the ladies; or detail their exclamations, fears, and general behavior. Like all members of the fair s.e.x, they made a virtue of necessity, and a.s.sumed the most winning expressions of timidity and reliance on their cavaliers; and even Miss Lavinia reposed upon a settee, and exclaimed that it was dreadful--very dreadful and terrifying.

Thereat, Mr. Roundjacket rose into the hero, and alluded to the crowd with dignified amus.e.m.e.nt; and when Miss Lavinia said, in a low voice, that other lives were precious to her besides her own--evidently referring to Mr. Roundjacket--that gentleman brandished his ruler, and declared that life was far less valuable than her smiles.

In another part of the room Ralph and f.a.n.n.y laughed and jested--opposite them. Mr. Rushton indignantly shook his fist in the direction of the crowd, and vituperated the Hibernian nation, in a manner shocking to hear.

Verty was leaning on the mantel-piece, as quietly as if there was nothing to attract his attention. He had pushed Cloud through the ma.s.s with the unimpressed carriage of the Indian hunter; and his dreamy eyes were far away--he listened to other sounds than shouts, perhaps to a maiden singing.

The little singer--we refer to Miss Redbud--had been much terrified by the crowd, and felt weak, owing to the recent sickness. She looked round for a seat, and saw none.

The door leading into the inner sanctum of Mr. Rushton then attracted her attention, and seeing a comfortable chair within, she entered, and sat down.

Redbud uttered a sigh of weariness and relief, and then gazed around her.

The curtain was drawn back from the picture--the child's face was visible.

She went to it, and was lost in contemplation of the bright, pretty face; when, as had happened with Verty, she felt a hand upon her shoulder, and started.

Mr. Rushton stood beside her.

"Well, Miss!" he said, roughly, "what are you doing?"

"Oh, sir!" Redbud replied, "I am sorry I offended you--but I saw this pretty picture, and just come to look at it."

"Humph!" growled the lawyer, "nothing can be kept private here."

And, with a softened expression, he gazed at the picture.

"It is very pretty," said Redbud, gently; "who was she, sir?"

The lawyer was silent; he seemed afraid to trust his voice. At last he said:

"My child."

And his voice was so pathetic, that Redbud felt the tears come to her eyes.

"Pardon me for making you grieve, Mr. Rushton," she said, softly, "it was very thoughtless in me. But will you let me speak? She is in heaven, you know; the dear Savior said himself, that the kingdom of heaven was full of such."

The lawyer's head bent down, and a hoa.r.s.e sigh, which resembled the growl of a lion, shook his bosom.

Redbud's eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, do not grieve, sir," she said, in a tremulous voice, "trust in G.o.d, and believe that He is merciful and good."

The poor stricken heart brimmed with its bitter and corroding agony; and, raising his head, the lawyer said, coldly:

"Enough? this may be very well for you, who have never suffered--it is the idle wind to me! Trust in G.o.d? Away! the words are fatuitous!--ough!" and wiping his moist brow, he added, coldly, "What a fool I am, to be listening to a child!"

Redbud, with her head bent down, made no reply.

Her hand played, absently, with the coral necklace; without thinking, she drew it with her hand.

The time had come.

The old necklace, worn by use, parted asunder, and fell upon the floor. The lawyer, with his cold courtesy, picked it up.

As he did so,--as his eye dwelt upon it, a strange expression flitted across his rugged features.

With a movement, as rapid as thought, he seized the gold clasp with his left hand, and turned the inner side up.

His eye was glued to it for a moment, his brow grew as pale as death, and sinking into the old chair, he murmured hoa.r.s.ely:

"Where did you get this?"

Redbud started, and almost sobbing, could not reply.

He caught her by the wrist, with sudden vehemence, and holding the necklace before her, said:

"Look!"

Upon the inside of the gold plate were traced, in almost illegible lines, the letters, "A.R."

"It was my child's!" he said, hoa.r.s.ely; "where did you get it?"

Redbud, with a tremor which she could not restrain, told how she had purchased the necklace from a pedlar; she knew no more; did not know his name--but recollected that he was a German, from his accent.

The lawyer fell into his chair, and was silent: his strong frame from time to time trembled--his bosom heaved.

At last he raised his face, which seemed to have sunken away in the last few moments, and still holding the necklace tightly, motioned Redbud toward the door.

"We--will--speak further of this," he said, his voice charged with tears; and with a slow movement of his head up and down, he again desired Redbud to leave him.

She went out:--the last she saw was Mr. Rushton clasping the necklace to his lips, and sobbing bitterly,

In the outer room they laughed and jested gaily.