 | CHAPTER VIII. Ormond, or, The secret witness |  |
8. CHAPTER VIII.
Such were the facts circumstantially communicated
by Sarah. They afforded to Constance a
theme of ardent meditation. The similitude between
her own destiny and that of this unhappy
exile, could not fail to be observed. Immersed
in poverty, friendless, burthened with the maintenance
and nurture of her father, their circumstances
were nearly parallel. The catastrophe
of her tale, was the subject of endless but unsatisfactory
conjecture.
She had disappeared between the flight of
Baxter and the dawn of day. What path had she
taken? Was she now alive? Was she still an inhabitant
of this city? Perhaps there was a coincidence
of taste as well as fortunes between them.
The only friend that Constantia ever enjoyed,
congenial with her in principles, sex and age,
was at a distance that forbad communication.
She imagined that Ursula Monrose would prove
worthy of her love, and felt unspeakable regret
at the improbability of their ever meeting.
Meanwhile the dominion of cold began to be
felt, and the contagious fever entirely disappeared.
The return of health was hailed with rapture,
by all ranks of people. The streets were
once more busy and frequented. The sensation
of present security seemed to shut out from all
hearts the memory of recent disasters. Public
entertainments were thronged with auditors. A
new theatre had lately been constructed, and a
company of English Comedians had arrived during
the prevalence of the malady. They now
overflowing.
Such is the motly and ambiguous condition of
human society, such is the complexity of all effects
from what cause soever they spring, that
none can tell whether this destructive pestilence
was, on the whole, productive of most pain or
most pleasure. Those who had been sick and
had recovered, found, in this circumstance, a
source of exultation. Others made haste, by new
marriages, to supply the place of wives, husbands
and children, whom the scarcely extinguished
pestilence had swept away.
Constance, however, was permitted to take
no share in the general festivity. Such was the
colour of her fate, that the yellow fever, by affording
her a respite from toil, supplying leisure
for the acquisition of a useful branch of knowledge,
and leading her to the discovery of a
cheaper, more simple, and more wholesome method
of subsistence, had been friendly, instead of
adverse, to her happiness. Its disappearance,
instead of relieving her from suffering, was the
signal for the approach of new cares.
Of her ancient customers, some were dead, and
others were slow in resuming their ancient habitations,
and their ordinary habits. Meanwhile
two wants were now created and were urgent.
The season demanded a supply of fuel, and her
rent had accumulated beyond her power to discharge.
M`Crea no sooner returned from the
country, than he applied to her for payment.
Some proprietors, guided by humanity, had remitted
their dues, but M`Crea was not one of
these. According to his own representation, no
man was poorer than himself, and the punctual
payment of all that was owing to him, was no
He was aware of the indigence of the Dudleys,
and was therefore extremely importunate for payment,
and could scarcely be prevailed upon to
allow them the interval of a day, for the discovery
of expedients. This day was passed by
Constantia in fruitless anxieties. The ensuing
evening had been fixed for a repetition of his
visit. The hour arrived, but her invention was
exhausted in vain. M`Crea was punctual to the
minute. Constance was allowed no option. She
merely declared that the money demanded she
had not to give, nor could she foresee any period
at which her inability would be less than it then
was
These declarations were heard by her visitant,
with marks of unspeakable vexation. He did
not fail to expatiate on the equity of his demands,
the moderation and forbearance he had hitherto
shewn, notwithstanding the extreme urgency of
his own wants, and the inflexible rigour with
which he had been treated by his creditors. This
rhetorick was merely the prelude to an intimation
that he must avail himself of any lawful means,
by which he might gain possession of his own.
This insinuation was fully comprehended by
Constance, but it was heard without any new
emotions. Her knowledge of her landlord's character
taught her to expect but one consequence.
He paused to observe what effect would be produced
by this indirect menace. She answered,
without any change of tone, that the loss of habitation
and furniture, however inconvenient at
this season, must be patiently endured. If it
were to be prevented only by the payment of
money, its prevention was impossible.
M`Crea renewed his regrets that there should
be no other alternative. The law sanctioned his
claims and justice to his family, which was already
large, and likely to increase, required that
they should not be relinquished, yet such was the
mildness of his temper and his aversion to proceed
to this extremity, that he was willing to
dispense with immediate payment on two conditions.
First, that they should leave his house
within a week, and secondly, that they should put
into his hands some trinket or moveable, equal
in value to the sum demanded, which should be
kept by him as a pledge.
This last hint suggested an expedient for obviating
the present distress. The lute with which
Mr. Dudley was accustomed to solace his solitude,
was, if possible, more essential to his happiness
than shelter or food. To his daughter it
possessed little direct power to please. It was
inestimable merely for her father's sake. Its intrinsic
value was at least equal to the sum due,
but to part with it was to bereave him of a good,
which nothing else could supply. Besides, not
being a popular and saleable instrument, it would
probably be contemptuously rejected by the ignorance
and avarice of M`Crea.
There was another article in her possession, of
some value in traffic, and of a kind which M`Crea
was far more likely to accept. It was the miniature
portrait of her friend, executed by a German
artist, and set in gold. This image was a
precious though imperfect substitute for sympathy
and intercourse with the original. Habit had
made this picture a source of a species of idolatry.
Its power over her sensations was similar
to that possessed by a beautiful Madonna over the
heart of a juvenile enthusiast. It was the mother
taught her to consider as beneficial or true.
She perceived the necessity of parting with it
on this occasion, with the utmost clearness, but
this necessity was thought upon with indescribable
repugnance. It seemed as if she had not
thoroughly conceived the extent of her calamity
till now. It seemed as if she could have endured
the loss of eyes with less reluctance than the loss
of this inestimable relique. Bitter were the tears
which she shed over it as she took it from her bosom,
and consigned it to those rapacious hands,
that were stretched out to receive it. She derived
some little consolation from the promises of
this man, that he would keep it safely till she was
able to redeem it.
The other condition, that of immediate removal
from the house, seemed at first sight impracticable.
Some reflection, however, shewed her,
that the change might not only be possible but
useful. Among other expedients for diminishing
expence, that of limiting her furniture and dwelling
to the cheapest standard, had often occurred.
She now remembered, that the house occupied
by Monrose, was tenantless; that its antiquity,
its remote and unpleasant situation, and its small
dimensions, might induce M`Crea, to whom it
belonged, to let it at a much lower price than
that which he now exacted. M`Crea would
have been better pleased if her choice had fallen
on a different house, but he had powerful though
sordid reasons for desiring the possession of this
tenement. He assented therefore to her proposal,
provided her removal took place without
delay.
In the present state of her funds this removal
was impossible. Mere shelter, would not suffice
during this inclement season. Without fuel,
There was nothing, convertible into
money, but her lute. No sacrifice was more
painful, but an irresistible necessity demanded
it.
Her interview with M`Crea took place while
her father was absent from the room. On his return
she related what had happened, and urged
the necessity of parting with his favorite instrument.
He listened to her tale with a sigh. Yes,
said he, do what thou wilt, my child. It is unlikely
that any one will purchase it. It is certain
that no one will give for it what I gave: but thou
may'st try.
It has been to me a faithful friend. I know
not how I should have lived without it. Its notes
have cheered me with the sweet remembrances
of old times. It was, in some degree, a substitute
for the eyes which I have lost, but now let
it go, and perform for me perhaps the dearest of
its services. It may help us to sustain the severities
of this season.
There was no room for delay. She immediately
set out in search of a purchaser. Such an one
was most likely to be found in the keeper of a
musical repository, who had lately arrived from
Europe. She entertained but slight hopes that
an instrument, scarcely known among her neighbours,
would be bought at any price, however
inconsiderable.
She found the keeper of the shop engaged in
conversation with a lady, whose person and face
instantly arrested the attention of Constance.
A less sagacious observer would have eyed the
stranger with indifference. But Constance was
ever busy in interpreting the language of features
and looks. Her sphere of observation had been
narrow, but her habits of examining, comparing
sphere. These habits were eminently strong,
with relation to this class of objects. She delighted
to investigate the human countenance, and
treasured up numberless conclusions as to the coincidence
between mental and external qualities.
She had often been forcibly struck by forms
that were accidentally seen, and which abounded
with this species of mute expression. They
conveyed at a single glance, what could not be
imparted by volumes. The features and shape
sunk, as it were, into perfect harmony with sentiments
and passions. Every atom of the frame
was pregnant with significance. In some, nothing
was remarkable but this power of the outward
figure to exhibit the internal sentiments.
In others, the intelligence thus unveiled, was remarkable
for its heterogenious or energetic qualities;
for its tendency to fill her heart with veneration
or abhorrence, or to involve her in endless
perplexities.
The accuracy and vividness with which pictures
of this kind presented themselves to her
imagination, resembled the operations of a sixth
sense. It cannot be doubted, however, that much
was owing to the enthusiastic tenor of her own
conceptions, and that her conviction of the truth
of the picture, principally flowed from the distinctness
and strength of its hues.
The figure which she now examined, was small
but of exquisite proportions. Her complexion
testified the influence of a torrid sun, but the
darkness veiled, without obscuring, the glowing
tints of her cheek. The shade was remarkably
deep, but a deeper still was required to become
incompatible with beauty. Her features were irregular,
but defects of symmetry were amply
supplied by eyes that anticipated speech and positions
was inadequate.
It was not the chief tendency of her appearance
to seduce or to melt. Her's were the polished
cheek and the mutability of muscle, which
belong to woman, but the genius conspicuous in
her aspect, was heroic and contemplative. The
female was absorbed, so to speak, in the rational
creature, and the emotions most apt to be excited
in the gazer, partook less of love than of reverence.
Such is the portrait of this stranger, delineated
by Constance. I copy it with greater willingness,
because if we substitute a nobler stature,
and a complexion less uniform and delicate, it
is suited, with the utmost accuracy, to herself.
She was probably unconscious of this resemblance,
but this circumstance may be supposed to influence
her in discovering such attractive properties
in a form thus vaguely seen. These impressions,
permanent and cogent as they were, were gained
at a single glance. The purpose which led her
thither was too momentous to be long excluded.
Why, said the master of the shop, this is lucky.
Here is a lady who has just been enquiring for an
instrument of this kind. Perhaps the one you
have will suit her. If you will bring it to me, I
will examine it, and if it is compleat, will make
a bargain with you.—He then turned to the lady
who had first entered, and a short dialogue in
French ensued between them. The man repeated
his assurances to Constance, who, promising
to hasten back with the instrument, took her
leave. The lute, in its structure and ornaments,
has rarely been surpassed. When scrutinized by
this artist, it proved to be compleat, and the
price demanded for it was readily given.
By this means the Dudleys were enabled to
change their habitation, and to supply themselves
with fuel. To obviate future exigences, Constantia
betook herself, once more, to the needle.
They persisted in the use of their simple fare,
and endeavoured to contract their wants and methodize
their occupations, by a standard as rigid
as possible. She had not relinquished her design
of adopting a new and more liberal profession,
but though, when indistinctly and generally considered,
it seemed easily effected, yet the first
steps which it would be proper to take, did not
clearly or readily suggest themselves. For the
present she was contented to pursue the beaten
tract, but was prepared to benefit by any occasion
that time might furnish, suitable to the execution
of her plan.
| CHAPTER VIII. Ormond, or, The secret witness | |