The Monctons Volume I Part 21

"Not under the same provocation?"

"I have done so under worse."

"G.o.d in Heaven!--how is that possible?"

"It is true."

"I won't believe it," said I, turning angrily upon the pillow. "It is not in human nature; and few can rise above the weakness of their kind."

"Listen to me, Geoffrey," said Harrison, seating himself on the side of the bed. "You wished very much at one time to learn from me the story of my past life. I did not think it prudent at that time, and while under Robert Moncton's roof, to gratify your curiosity. I will do so now, in the hope of beguiling you out of your present morbid state of feeling, while it may answer the purpose of teaching you a good, moral lesson, which I trust you will not easily forget.

"Man's happiness depends in a great measure on the sympathy of others.

His sufferings, by the same rule, are greatly alleviated when contrasted with the miseries of his neighbours, particularly if their sorrows happen to exceed his own.

"Much of my history must remain in the shade, because time alone can unravel the mystery by which I am surrounded; and many important pa.s.sages in my life, prudence forces me to conceal. But, my dear fellow, if my trials and sufferings will in any way reconcile you to your lot, and enable you to bear with fort.i.tude your own, your friend will not have suffered and sinned in vain."

George adjusted my pillows, and gave me my medicine, stirred the fire to a cheerful blaze, and commenced the narrative that for so many months I had so ardently longed to hear.

HARRISON'S STORY.

"Perhaps, Geoffrey, you are not aware that your grandfather left Sir Robert Moncton, the father of the present Baronet, guardian and trustee to his two sons, until they arrived at their majority; Edward at the time of his death, being eighteen years of age, Robert a year and a half younger.

"What tempted Geoffrey Moncton to leave his sons to the guardianship of the aristocratic father, from whom he had parted in anger many years before, no one could tell.

"The Baronet was a very old man, and was much respected in his day; and it is possible that the dying merchant found by experience, that he could place more reliance on the honour of a gentleman, than in a man of business. Or it might be, that on his death-bed he repented of the long family estrangement, and left his sons to the care of their grandfather, as a proof that all feelings of animosity were buried in his grave.

"Sir Robert's eldest son had been dead for some years, and the present Baronet, who resided with his grandfather, was just two years older than your father, and for several years the cousins lived very amicably beneath the same roof--were sent to the same college in Oxford to finish their studies and mingle in the same society.

"It was unfortunate for your father, who had too little ballast to regulate his own conduct, that he contracted the most ardent friendship for the young Alexander, who was a gay, reckless, dissipated fellow, regarding his wealth as the source from which he derived all his sensual pleasures, and not as a talent committed to his stewardship, of which he must one day give an account.

"Sir Alexander's early career, though not worse than that of many young men of the same cla.s.s, was unmarked by any real moral worth. His elegant person, good taste, and graceful manners, won for him the esteem and affection of those around him. Frank, courteous, and ever ready to use his influence with Sir Robert, in mitigating the distress of his poor tenants, he was almost adored by the lower cla.s.ses, and by whom, in return, they were treated with a degree of familiarity, much beneath his position as a gentleman. From this extravagant, kind-hearted, and popular young man, Edward Moncton contracted those habits which terminated in his ruin.

"Congeniality of mind strongly attached the cousins to each other; and I am certain that Sir Alexander truly loved the frank, confiding, careless Edward Moncton, while he equally disliked the cold, calculating, money-getting propensities of his brother Robert. Robert possessed a disposition not likely to forget or forgive a slight; and he deeply resented the preference shown to his brother; and his hatred, though carefully concealed, was actively employed in forming schemes of vengeance.

"You well know, how Robert Moncton can hate; the depths of guile, and the slow, smooth words, with which he can conceal the malignity of his nature, and hide the purposes of his heart. He had a game too to play, from which he hoped to rise up the winner; and to obtain this object he alternately flattered and deceived his unconscious victims.

"The particulars of your father's quarrel with Sir Alexander I never knew; it took place just before the young men left college and became their own masters; but it was of such a nature that they parted in anger, never to meet again.

"Shortly after this quarrel old Sir Robert died; and Alexander Moncton came in for the estates and t.i.tle. Your father and uncle, both being now of age, entered upon the great business of life. Your father resumed the business bequeathed to him by his father, and your uncle entered into partnership with the firm, of which he now stands the head and sole proprietor.

"Several years pa.s.sed away. The only intercourse between the families was through Sir Alexander and his cousin Robert, who, in spite of the young Baronet's aversion, contrived to stick to him like a bur, until he fairly wriggled himself into his favour. At thirty, Sir Alexander still remained a bachelor, and seemed too general an admirer of the s.e.x to resign his liberty to any particular _belle_.

"About this period of my story one of Sir Alexander's game-keepers was shot by a band of poachers, who infested the neighbourhood. Richard North, the husband of Dinah, had made himself most obnoxious to these lawless depredators, and thus fell a victim to his over-zeal.

"Sir Alexander considered himself bound in honour to provide for the widow and her daughter of his faithful servant, particularly as the former had been left without any means of support. Both mother and daughter were received into his service--Dinah as housekeeper at the Hall, and her daughter Rachel as upper chamber-maid.

"Dinah, at that period, was not more than thirty-four years of age, and for a person of her cla.s.s was well educated, and uncommonly handsome. I see you smile, Geoffrey, but such was the fact.

"Rachel, who was just sixteen, was considered a perfect model of female beauty, by all the young fellows who kept Bachelors' Hall with Sir Alexander. The young Baronet fell desperately in love with his fair dependent, and the girl and her mother entertained hopes that he would make her his wife. Pride, however, hindered him from making her Lady Moncton. In order to break the spell that bound him he gave the mother a pretty cottage on the estate, and a few acres of land rent-free, and went up to London to forget, amid its gay scenes, the bright eyes that had sorely wounded his peace.

"Dinah North was not a woman likely to bear with indifference the pangs of disappointed ambition. She bitterly reproached her daughter for having played her cards so ill, and vowed vengeance on the proud lord of the manor, in curses loud and deep.

"Rachel's character, though not quite so harshly defined, possessed too much of the vindictive nature of the mother. She had loved Sir Alexander with all the ardour of a first youthful attachment. His wealth and station were nothing to her--it was the man alone she prized. Had he been a peasant, she would have loved as warmly and as well. Lost to her for ever, she overlooked the great pecuniary favours just conferred upon her mother and herself, and only lived to be revenged.

"It was while smarting under their recent disappointment that these women were sought out and bribed by Robert Moncton to become his agents in a deep-laid conspiracy, which he hoped to carry out against Sir Alexander and his family.

"Robert Moncton was still unmarried, and Dinah took the charge of his establishment, being greatly enraged with her beautiful daughter for making a run-away match with Roger Mornington, Sir Alexander's huntsman, who was a handsome man, and the finest rider in the county of York.

"After an absence of five years, Sir Alexander suddenly returned to Moncton Park, accompanied by a young and lovely bride. During that five years, a great change had taken place in the young Baronet, who returned a sincere Christian and an altered man.

"Devotedly attached to the virtuous and beautiful lady whom he had wisely chosen for his mate, the whole study of his life was to please her, and keep alive the tender affections of the n.o.ble heart he had secured.

"They loved, as few modern couples love; and Sir Alexander's friends, and he had many, deeply sympathized in his happiness.

"Two beings alone upon his estate viewed his felicity with jealous and malignant eyes--two beings, who, from their lowly and dependent situations, would have been thought incapable of marring the happiness which excited their envy. Dinah North had been reconciled to her daughter, and they occupied the huntsman's lodge, a beautiful cottage within the precincts of the park. Dinah had secretly vowed vengeance on the man who, from principle, had saved her child from the splendid shame the avaricious mother coveted. She was among the first to offer her services, and those of her daughter, to Lady Moncton. The pretty young wife of the huntsman attracted the attention of the lady of the Hall, and she employed her constantly about her person, while in cases of sickness, for she was very fragile, Dinah officiated as nurse.

"A year pa.s.sed away, and the lady of the manor and the wife of the lowly huntsman were both looking forward with anxious expectation to the birth of their first-born.

"At midnight, on the 10th of October, 1804, an heir was given to the proud house of Moncton; a weak, delicate, puny babe, who nearly cost his mother her life. At the same hour, in the humble cottage at the entrance of that rich domain, your poor friend, George Harrison (or Philip Mornington, which is my real name) was launched upon the stormy ocean of life."

At this part of Harrison's narrative I fell back upon my pillow and groaned heavily.

George flew to my a.s.sistance, raising me in his arms and sprinkling my face with water.

"Are you ill, dear Geoffrey?"

"Not ill, George, but grieved: sick at heart, that you should be grandson to that dreadful old hag."

"We cannot choose our parentage," said George, sorrowfully. "The station in which we are born, const.i.tutes fate in this world; it is the only thing pertaining to man over which his will has no control. We can destroy our own lives, but our birth is entirely in the hands of Providence. Could I have ordered it otherwise, I certainly should have chosen a different mother."

He smiled mournfully, and bidding me to lie down and keep quiet, resumed his tale.

"The delicate state of Lady Moncton's health precluding her from nursing her child, my mother was chosen as subst.i.tute, and the weakly infant was entrusted to her care. The n.o.ble mother was delighted with the attention which Rachel bestowed upon the child, and loaded her with presents. As to me, I was given into Dinah's charge, who felt small remorse in depriving me of my natural food, if anything in the shape of money was to be gained by the sacrifice. The physicians recommended change of air for Lady Moncton's health; and Sir Alexander fixed on Italy as the climate most likely to benefit his ailing and beloved wife.

"My mother was offered large sums to accompany them, which she steadfastly declined. Lady Moncton wept and entreated, but Rachel Mornington was resolute in her refusal. 'No money,' she said, 'should tempt her to desert her husband and child, much as she wished to oblige Lady Moncton.'

"The infant heir of Moncton was thriving under her care, and she seemed to love the baby, if possible, better than she did her own. Sir Alexander and the physician persuaded Lady Moncton, though she yielded most reluctantly to their wishes, to overcome her maternal solicitude, and leave her child with his healthy and affectionate nurse.

"She parted from the infant with many tears, bestowing upon him the most pa.s.sionate caresses, and pathetically urging Rachel Mornington not to neglect the important duties she had solemnly promised to perform.

"Three months had scarcely elapsed before the young heir of Moncton was consigned to the family vault; and Sir Alexander and his wife were duly apprised by Robert Moncton, who was solicitor for the family, of the melancholy event. That this child did not come fairly by his death I have strong reasons for suspecting, from various conversations which I overheard when a child, pa.s.s between Robert Moncton, Dinah North, and my mother.

"The news of their son's death, as may well be imagined, was received by Sir Alexander and Lady Moncton with the most poignant grief; and six years elapsed before she and her husband revisited Moncton Park.

"My mother was just recovering from her confinement with a lovely little girl--the Alice, to whom you have often heard me allude--when Sir Alexander and Lady Moncton arrived at the Hall. They brought with them a delicate and beautiful infant of three months old.