 | CHAPTER V. Koningsmarke, the long Finne |  |
5. CHAPTER V.
“Most heart-commanding faced gentlewoman, even as the
stone in India called basilinus hurts all that look on it, and
as the serpent in Arabia called smaragdus delighteth the sight,
so does thy celestial, orb-assimilating eyes both please, and,
pleasing, pain my love-darted heart.”
Euphues, and his England.
When Shadrach Moneypenny had gathered
himself together, and departed for Coaquanock,
the Heer and his little party, being left alone,
drew into a circle, and began to compare notes
one with another. Perhaps one of the most
pleasing results of the meeting of long separated
friends is this mutual interchange of the relations
of past events. Our little self-love is gratified
in telling all that has happened to us, and
our curiosity, perhaps a better feeling, feasted
with the chronicle of what has befallen others.
Alternately the hero and the auditor of these
domestic legends, each one enjoys a temporary
hour of supremacy, and all are pleased, because
all have their turn in talking. The happy
Heer, seated between his daughter and the
questioned, and answered, and listened, and
talked, like a boy; for the return of his darling
had made him feel young again.
The party consisted only of the three, with
the occasional intrusion of the Frizzled Head,
and her likely grandson, who, under various
pretences, went and came, without having any
positive errand to justify the intrusion. The
good aunt Edith was, as usual, lying abed, too
sick even to admit of a visit from her niece,
which she feared might agitate her so much
that she would not be able to attend a prayer
meeting on the ensuing evening. The worthy
Dominie Kanttwell, too, was either engaged, or
pretended to be so, and came not to congratulate
the Heer on the return of his only child
from captivity among the wild men of the
woods. Indeed, it was shrewdly suspected, that
the good man, as well as aunt Edith, were both
somewhat mortified at the failure of their favourite
doctrine of temporal judgments, on this
occasion, as exemplified in the happy return
of Christina; and there were those who did not
scruple to insinuate, that the Dominie was sorely
wounded in spirit, at the downfall of a
plan for benefiting the church, which depended
alteration in the Heer's will, which he did
not despair of bringing about in time.
“Ah! poor Ludwig!” cried the Heer, as
Koningsmarke related the manner in which he
had cheated the savages of their bloody feast—
“ah! brave, merry, thoughtless, swearing
rogue! he lived only for the present breath he
drew, and thought not of the next moment, much
less of the morrow. Jolly Varlett! he was
as brave as the great Gustavus, not to mention
another person, whose name it would not become
me to utter, being that self-praise is but
another name for self-blame. He used to say,
that a man who feared not what the present moment
could bring, yet shrunk from the next,
was like a superstitious blockhead, that would
wrestle with flesh and blood, and run away from
his own shadow. Honest Wolfgang Langfanger
and he could never agree, for Wolfgang
thought nothing of the present, I mean in a
worldly point of view, while Ludwig held, that
in the firm of Past, Present, and Future, the first
and the last were little more than sleeping partners.
Ah! pleasant, merry Varlett! would I
could hear him swear again! But now,” continued
the Heer, addressing himself to Koningsmarke—“now
didst thou live, and how did my poor little girl
endure the savage thraldom—hey? Thy hand
is not so soft nor so white as it used to be, my
daughter,” said he, as he pressed it tenderly in
his own.
This led to a recapitulation of the events detailed
in our preceding chapters, in which Christina
and Koningsmarke, alternating, related their dangers
and sufferings, omitting certain tender
scenes, only interesting to the performers. The
Heer alternately laughed and wept. As they
related the adventures of Lob Dotterel's wig, and
the adoption of that trusty officer into the tribe
of the Muskrats, he indulged in bursts of merriment,
and ever after called him by the name of
the Jumping Sturgeon. The sufferings of his
dear child melted his heart; and when she told
him of the kindness of little Aonetti, the Deer
Eyes, he declared his determination to have her
sought out, and brought to Elsingburgh, that
he might reward her, by the affection of a father,
for her goodness to his daughter. Christina,
however, for some reason or other, which, as she
did not avow, we should hold ourselves guilty of
betraying her confidence if we disclosed, did
not second this motion, and the good Heer was
her adopted sister.
“And now,” exclaimed the Heer, when they
had finished the relation of their adventures—
“and now, Koningsmarke, my dear son, for such
thou hast been to me, tell me how I may best reward
thee, for having saved the life of my child,
and oftentimes watched over her safety in the
desolate wilderness. I have wealth, more than
enough for my wants, speak, and as much of it
is thine as shall place thee above the world.”
Koningsmarke replied not, but shook his head,
looked at Christina, and sighed.
“No?” said the good Heer, answering his
look and shake of the head, “No? thou art
proud, then, and disdainest to be repaid for thy
kindness to an old man and his daughter with
money. But remember, I am at least thy debtor
for a handful of Mark Newby's halfpence,” added
he, smiling.
“Money cannot repay me for what I have
done for thy daughter,” rejoined Koningsmarke,
with an air and tone of melancholy pride.
“No? Der teufel! but—what? thou holdest
thy favours above all price then?”
“None think less than I do of what I have
affair.”
“Well, then, I have some influence with the
great Gustavus, who, no doubt, remembers the
good service I did him, in taking a corporal's
guard. I will use it in thy behalf, and intreat
him, as I am old and feeble, and wish for retirement,
to appoint thee my successor in the
government of New Swedeland—hey?”
The Long Finne again shook his head, and
was silent.
“What, then, du galgen schivenkel,” exclaimed
the Heer, waxing wroth apace—“what! then
thou disdainest my friendship, and contemnest
my gratitude? Harkye, henkers knecht, be
pleased to comprehend, that I hold when a man
refuses to be repaid for favours he confers, he
cancels the obligation. Lookye, Long Finne—
am I not old enough to be thy father? am I
not the representative of the great Gustavus?
am I not obliged to thee for the safety of my
only child? 'Sfoot, sir—and dost thou dare to
tell me, thus to my face, that it is not thy pleasure
to be rewarded? Now mark me, youngster—either
name thy reward, or fight me to-morrow
norning, with good broad swords. I'll
teach thee to encumber me with a load of gratitude
great horse, and then refuse to assist me in getting
rid of it. Come, stripling, name thy reward,
or shalt smoke for it to-morrow.”
Koningsmarke dropped on his knee, and, taking
the hand of Christina, pressed it to his lips
and his heart.
“I deserve her not—I ask her not—I dare not
ask you for her. But, Oh! Heer—if she owes her
life to me, as well as to thee—if I have watched,
and toiled, and fought for her—if I have borne
her in my arms, when her own limbs refused to
support her, through the irksome wilderness—
if I have been to her as a brother, to you as a
son—think what I could wish—not what I ask,
or deserve as a recompense—the only recompense
you can bestow, or I accept.”
“What! henckers knecht—my daughter, hey?
By the glory of the immortal champion, Gustavus,
but that is indeed cancelling the obligation!
Thou first gavest me my daughter, and
now thou wilt take her away again. Thou
wouldst rob me of the treasure thou hast just
found and restored to me?”
“Not rob thee, Heer; I would wish to double
the blessing, by adding to the solace of a
grateful son.”
“And thou wouldst not ask her to abandon
her poor old father?”
“No—we would live and die with thee. Thy
house should be our home; and, if it so pleased
Heaven, our graves should be close to
thine.”
“Sayest thou, coward! ha! thou hadst rather
marry, then, than meet my old rusty broad
sword? well, thou art a prudent young stripling
after all. Christina, hast got a fever, for within
these last fifteen minutes, thy pulse hath
risen to a truly alarming pitch? Christina,
what shall I say to this worthy lad, who so well
understandeth the value of his services? truly,
honest Finne, thou shalt be made superintendant
of the Indian trade, being as thou so well
comprehendest the mysteries of bargaining.”
If a young woman can possibly be brought
to say yes, to such a question as that of the
Heer, it must be when she is alone with the person
that asks it, unless we are mistaken in our
recollection of the pure and delicate Dan Cupid,
that whilome used to fan the flame of love in
female hearts. Christina replied not.
“Well,” said the Heer, silence gives consent.
not ready to devote thyself to the wishes of one,
who gave thee life, and of that good-looking
youth, who hath preserved it more than once.
Here, Long Finne, here is her hand; if she dissents,
she has only to signify so much by withdrawing
it.”
Christina did not withdraw her hand, although
her pale cheek, and trembling frame, bore testimony
that though she gave herself to Koningsmarke,
it was not with that ample trust, that
boundless confidence, that unshrinking, measureless
hope, with which the ardent, inexperienced
maid so often throws herself, her virtues, her
wealth, and her beauty into the bosom of man.
“This day shall be kept as the happiest of my
life,” cried the Heer. “It is—yes, it is the day
I was married, the day of thy birth, Christina;
the day too in which God gave thee to me a second
time, that I might secure thy happiness by
giving thee to one whom Providence made the
instrument of thy preservation. Blessed be this
day!”
“It is the day of thy wife's death, too!” exclaimed
the Frizzled Head, who was always
flitting about like the bird of night, and always
croaking. “It is the day of thy wife's death; thy
lift the shroud and come among you, would hold
up her bloodless hand, and shriek in ghostly accents
against this unhappy union; forbidden by
the memory of the past, the auguries of the
future. I, that know what thou, Heer, knowest
not—I, that have seen what thou didst not
see, I tell thee, Heer, I tell thee, weak maiden,
and,” holding up her withered finger in scorn,
to Koningsmarke, “I tell thee, that rather
than this accursed marriage shall take place,
I will say what shall blast thy purpose and
send thee wandering again to another new
world, if such there be. Better be dead than
wedded thus.
“Housekeeper of Satan!” answered the
Heer, “avaunt, fly, skip—herald of wrath and
abomination! When was it that I was ever inclined
to be merry, that thou didst not essay to
turn my gayety into gloomy forebodings? when
did I ever open my heart to the memory of
past, or the anticipation of future happiness,
that thou camest not, like the raven, to croak
me into fancied misery? when did the sun shine
ever warm on my heart, that thou didst not
come and freeze it stiff and cold? Away, and
howl in churchyards, at midnight; scream into
silent with that eternal clapper of thine, or speak
to be understood, or”—
“I do howl in the ears of guilt, and I speak
to be understood by those I wish to understand
me. Those now hear me, who know full well
what I mean, yet dare to despise my warnings;
who would rush into each other's arms, even
though the grave of a mother lay between them
and their desires; who—but the time is not yet
come, that I must and will speak out.”
“Then, in the name of Heaven, be quiet till
then, and do not mar this happy hour. I would
thou wert silent, even as the grave thou speakest
of; for thy talking is worse than the screech-owl,
the wolf, and the Indian, a joining in
concert with the midnight storm. How is it,
that thou wouldst mar the happiness of thy master
and young mistress?”
“I mar their happiness!” retorted the Snow
Ball; “I seek to prevent their misery; to save
virtue from the contamination of vice; to revenge
the death of her, who, of all thy colour and thy
race, was the only one whose kindness was never
accompanied by insult—whose benefits were never
cancelled by capricious tyranny. Heer, why
do I take an interest in the prosperity of thy
not that thou art, in the language of thy haughty
race, my master, but because thou wert the husband
of the kindest being that ever breathed the
breath of life. Daughter of my mistress, why do I
watch over thy welfare? It is not that thou
art the child of my master, and I thy slave,
but that she was thy mother, and that with her
latest breath she besought me to be unto thee a
watchful and devoted servant, to see that no
harm fell upon thy innocent head. Such I
have been—such I will be, until I join my mistress,
where I may be permitted, though black
as ink, to say to her snow-white spirit, I did my
duty to her at least.”
“The yellow plague sieze thee, thou incomprehensible
riddle of darkness,” cried the Heer.
“Begone, for I swear to thee, Snow Ball, the
Long Finne shall marry my daughter, though
thou talkest thyself white in the face. To-morrow
shall be the day, and then, when I have secured
my girl a protector in weal and wo, in
storm and sunshine, I am ready to obey that call
which, sooner or later, brings all mankind to
their last muster. Depart in peace, old sinner,
and hold thy peace, if such a matter be possible.”
“I go,” replied the Frizzled Head, without moving
a step. “Heer! Heer! thou wilt remember,
when I am dead, in sorrow and remorse,
that I warned thee, yet thou wouldst not listen.
When the storm comes, and thou and thine
shall be laid low in the dust, thy roots bare,
and thy branches broken, like the trees after a
whirlwind, then thou shalt weep, and tear thy
gray hairs, and call upon the mountains to fall,
the rocks to cover thee: but it will be vain.
Thou shalt invoke death, but he will not come;
thou shalt seek the grave, but it will not open to
thee; thou shalt live, despairing, until thy legs
shall refuse to carry thee, thy hands to lift themselves
to thy head, and thy mind and body become
those of the helpless infant.”
During this mysterious colloquy, Christina
had remained speechless and motionless, her cold
and almost lifeless hand grasped in that of Koningsmarke,
who himself remained silent, as if overawed
by the horrible fluency of the sable prophetess.
There is something allied to the sublime in futurity;
and even the strongest mind, fortified by the
consciousness of innocence, involuntarily shrinks
when the veil is withdrawn, and renders the homage
of its fears, where it refuses that of its
faith.
“Daughter of the kindest mistress that ever
fell to one of our unhappy race,” resumed Bombie
of the Frizzled Head, addressing Christina,
“wilt thou devote thy virtue, thy beauty, thy
life, to this man, who—”
“Who twice saved mine,” hastily interrupted
Christina; “I am bound by my faith to do so.
When we parted, never expecting to meet again;
when he was going to be tortured at the stake,
for having sought to restore me to my father;
and when it seemed hardly within the compass
or the power of fate to restore him to me, or me
to my home, I promised to be his, if we ever lived
to return hither. I will keep my word, let
what will follow; I will pay the debt of gratitude
I owe him, though it be at the price of a
broken heart, a blasted fame; yea! even though
my mother's spirit should—” Here the poor
maiden covered her face with her hands, and
became choked with her rising emotions.
“Then be the curse of thy mother on thy
head, and on the heads of all that shall be born
of thee, as the curse of Cain was upon him and
all his posterity—”
Here Christina uttered a shriek, and fell insensible
into the arms of her father. The Heer
raved in agony. “To-day,” he cried, “the
ere yet I had kissed and blessed her, thou—thou,
black and malignant devil, hast destroyed
her. But thou shalt pay for this, thou and all
thy accursed race.”
“Better thus—better dead, than to live as
thou mayst yet live to see her, with a blighted
cheek, a broken heart, and a conscience gnawed,
morning, noon, and night, sleeping and
waking, by the worm that never dies,” replied
the sybil.
What more she would have said was interrupted
by the intrusion of Lob Dotterel, followed
by a number of the villagers, having in custody
the body of that likely fellow Cupid. Their
presence turned the current of Bombie's feelings
into another channel, and the disclosures that
followed led to consequences which will be related
in the succeeding chapters.
| CHAPTER V. Koningsmarke, the long Finne | |