University of Virginia Library

17. XVII.
FAUSTINA CONSOLES HERSELF.

The long, dreary night! how could she endure it?
Never a woman of courage, or of resources within herself
against ennui, no wonder that the coming lonesome
hours were awful as phantoms to her. She gazed out
of the windows; the moonlight and the stillness were
chill and forbidding. She could not content herself
a moment with the old lady; Ebby was no comfort;
and Melissa, who knew her secret, she was beginning to
hate and fear. She went to her chamber; its solitariness
was intolerable; a gust from the door, as she closed
it, extinguished her light, and the moonshine came between
the curtains like the face of a ghost.

Pitiful for one who at all times loved company so
well, and was never willingly alone an hour in her life!
What would she not resort to for relief from her own
fears and imaginings? She would have swallowed
laudanum, if she had had any. She thought of a bottle
of brandy in the kitchen closet. That would do. She
would stupefy herself.

Melissa was in the kitchen, suffering great distress of
mind at the occurrences of the evening.

“O Mis' Dane!” she exclaimed, “ain't it too bad he
has to go to jail! And we know he didn't take the
money!”

“Hold your tongue!” said Faustina. “Of course he
didn't; and they can't do anything with him.”

“Can't they?” cried Melissa, eagerly; for she had
felt the remorse of an accomplice in sharing Faustina's
secret. “Oh, I'm glad!”

“You stupid girl!” — Faustina seized her arm. “Melissa!
Melissa!” in a menacing whisper, “hear what I
say! As you value your oath, as you value your life,
never breathe a syllable of what you know!”

“La, ma'am!” — with open-mouthed astonishment,—
“what will happen to me if I do?”

“You will die! You will die a most sudden and
dreadful death!”

“La, ma'am! will I though? Oh dear!” And Melissa
began to whimper with fright, thinking her mistress
must surely be in league with supernatural avengers.

“There! stop crying! They shan't hurt you, if you
mind me.” There was something awfully suggestive in
the indefinite, mysterious plural they. “Only keep your
oath, Melissa! An oath's a shocking thing to break.
Nobody is safe afterwards.”

“Why, what happens to 'em?”

“Some are sent to prison, — lucky if they ever get out
again. Some are struck by lightning. Some are murdered
in broad daylight, nobody ever knows how. Some
are found dead in their beds, though as well the night

before as you are this minute. A great many disappear,
and are never heard of again; — it's supposed the goblins
catch them.”

“Oh, la, ma'am! how you scare me!”

“You needn't be scared, only keep your oath. Remember!
Now go and put Ebby to bed, and see to the
old woman. I can't, — I'm sick. Where's that brandy?”

The brandy was got. Melissa was gone. And Faustina
in her madness began to drink. She placed the
bottle on the table, with water and sugar, and sat down,
deliberately and systematically to lay siege to the castle
of oblivion, of which drunkenness opens the gates.

“Hillo! by George, I cotched ye at it this time!”

Faustina started up with trepidation; but when she
saw what visitor had entered so softly as to stand beside
her before she was aware, she was pacified, and sat
down again.

“I've an excruciating toothache, Tasso! I was putting
a little brandy into it.”

“I've an excruciating toothache, too,” said Tasso.
“I'd like to put a little brandy into mine.”

The liquor had begun to do its office. Faustina was
delighted to have company. She was social; she was
ardent; she wrung Tasso's hand confidentially, and
brought him a glass from the closet.

“Seein' Abel's off, thought I'd drop in. Hi, hi!
'tain't a bad joke after all! Got him up 'fore the justice!
Couldn't help laughing!” And Tasso illustrated
with a giggle, which he quenched with a dash of sweetened

brandy and water. “That's good liquor, I swow!”
He smacked, and filled again, confirming his verdict, —
being no doubt a discriminating judge of strong waters;
for he had tended bar in Boston till he was suspected of
pilfering from the drawer, when he retired at his employer's
urgent request, second by a boot which
accelerated his progress down the stairs. He had lost
his situation, but retained his taste.

“It's dreadful, Tasso!” said Faustina. “He won't
come home to-night, I suppose. Oh, I'm so glad you've
come; it's so horrible lonesome here! Let's go into
the sitting-room; for Melissa'll be back in a minute.
Bring the sugar.”

“Toothache hain't a chance in this house,” observed
Tasso, smilingly holding up the bottle to the light.

“Come! I've so many things to tell you!” And
Faustina led the way, carrying the pitcher of water
and the candle.