University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.

During the whole of the day succeeding the
insurrection, our hero lay in the most precarious
and dangerous state; and the violent inflammatory
action produced by several large sabre wounds so
much unsettled his reason, that the surgeon was
compelled still farther to deplete his already exhausted
frame. Towards night his mind recovered
its powers, but his strength was still gone, and he
lay upon his couch in all the helplessness of infantile
impotency; and toward evening, exhausted by
the previous night of turmoil and strife, succeeded
by a day of feverish restlessness, he at length fell
asleep.

There was one never-wearying eye that watched
the fitful slumbers of the invalid. Conscious,
perhaps, that Bacon could never be more to her
than a friend and protector, Wyanokee delighted
in rendering him those quiet, but constant and
indispensable services which his situation required.
Not a change of his ever-varying countenance, as
the workings of a diseased and excited imagination,
were from time to time portrayed upon his pale
and already attenuated features, escaped her, while
her own beautiful and expressive countenance, vividly
displayed, in rapid and corresponding changes,

her sympathy with the sleeping sufferer. If
any one approached the door, her keen glance immediately
arrested the intruder, her finger upon
her lip, and a frown upon her brow, in her powerful
and national pantomimic token of silence.
If the eye of the sleeper opened for an instant in
bewildered amazement at the difference between
the real scene before him, and the one from which
in sleeping fancy he had just escaped; her wild
and imaginative susceptibilities were instantly on
the alert.

The mind of the aboriginal, even when partially
cultivated, is overcome with superstitious reverence
and awe, in the presence of one under the
excitement of a diseased imagination. Such had
been the state of feeling with Wyanokee during the
whole of Bacon's mental hallucinations throughout
the day, and now as she watched at his bedside,
during his uneasy slumbers, her keen perceptions
were tremulously alive to each successive
demonstration. There was one member of the
family, however, who entered and departed from
the room unchallenged—Virginia! At this moment
she entered—her own tender sympathies wrought
upon by all the late harassing events; although
differing in their developments and cause in some
respects, they were in no wise inferior in degree to
those of her protegée. She moved with noiseless
step and suppressed respiration until she stood
over the couch of the wounded youth. Long and

feelingly she gazed upon the sharp and pallid
features; there was naught of passion in that gaze
—it was pure and heavenly in its origin, as in its
motive. Her moistened eye, with a movement
almost peculiar to the sick room, or the funeral
chamber, turned slowly upon her attendant. No
melting and sympathizing tear softened the brilliant
and penetrating eye which met her gaze;
there was excitement, deep excitement, but not
the mellowed emotion of regulated sympathy; in
Wyanokee, the imagination controlled the heart
—in Virginia, the heart subdued and softened the
imagination.

There was something touchingly beautiful in the
moral development of these two young and innocent
hearts. There was a mutual instinctive
understanding of each, with regard to the position
of the other, in relation to the wounded youth before
them; yet it had never been admitted even to
their own consciousness, because they had never
analyzed their own feelings, and circumstances as
yet had never openly betrayed them to each other.
As they mutually exchanged glances, something like
an electric thrill passed chilly through their veins,
but it was only for an instant; the reasoning faculties
of the mind examined it not—they were not
in a situation to examine it—imagination controlled
the whole mental organization of the one, and
the tenderest and purest emotions of the heart that
of the other. Virginia came to relieve the faithful

and indefatigable Indian maiden, and as the
only practicable means, sent her under some pretext
to her mother. She now occupied a seat near
the foot of the couch, in full view of the sleeper's
countenance, faintly illuminated by the subdued
rays of a shaded lamp. She had watched the varying
and magnetic vibration of muscle and nerve for
nearly an hour, when the eyes of the sleeping
youth slowly and wildly opened upon her in a
bewildered stare, and at length he spoke.—

“The senses are not the only vehicles for communicating
passing events to the mind,” said he,
his voice already hollow and sepulchral from the
previous excitement of the brain. Virginia understood
him not, but supposed that his mind was
again wandering, but it was not so; his mental
perceptions were preternaturally clear, as they
sometimes are after painful cerebral excitements.

She made him no answer, hoping that he would
again close his eyes to repose. But he continued,
“How else can we gain knowledge of things
which have transpired when all the senses are
shut up in profound slumber? Just now I slept
deeply, but not soothingly, and I thought I was
on the brink of destruction, from which none but
you could save me, and that wyanokee persisted
in attempting the rescue, and the more she struggled
the more irremediable became my difficulties.
At length you appeared upon the scene, leaning
upon your mother's arm, and she carried away
Wyanokee while you redeemed me from destruction.

This is indeed no farther true than that you
have taken the place of your attendant, and that
your mild sympathizing countenance is far more
genial to my present weakened state, than her
wild and startling glances. But does it not seem
as if my mental perceptions had caught a glimpse
of passing events without the intervention of the
animal senses?”

Virginia put her finger upon her lip and shook
her head, to remind her charge that strict silence
was enjoined. For this there were other motives
acting upon her perturbed feelings besides the injunction
of the surgeon, had they been wanting.

The invalid closed his eyes, and in a short time
seemed to sleep more calmly and soundly than he
had yet done. It being the portion of the night
through which Virginia had insisted upon watching,
she moved quietly to a couch by the window
looking upon the river and the blue hills beyond,
and threw herself upon it and gazed out at the enchanting
scene. Her own flower garden lay beneath
the window, stretching away towards the
river, and ornamented midway with a tasteful little
summer-house designed by herself, and decorated
by the hands of the ingenious youth who now
lay so helpless before her. The air was balmy
and serene, and redolent of the richest perfumes of
fruits and flowers just bursting into maturity with
the advancing summer. Millions of stars twinkled
in the high cerulean arch of heaven, and were
reflected back from the broad expanse of waters

beneath, with an enchanting brilliancy. The
murmuring waters of the Powhatan rippled alogn
the sandy shore with a melancholy monotony, indescribably
soothing to her harassed and troubled
mind. The various noises of the busy world around
were one by one sinking into silence. Occasionally
the profound stillness which succeeded, disturbed
by the distant bark of a watch-dog, or the
more rural cackling of geese, faded away in the
distance so imperceptibly as to leave the mind at
a loss to know whether they were real sounds, or
those associations with the scene which the imagination
often conjures up to bewilder us on such
occasions. Her eyes were half closed for a moment
under these soothing and seducing influences,
and the next, quickly opened to catch the fiery
track of some darting meteor as it winged its way
through the starry heavens, or to follow the humbler
lights borne through the air by myriads of
fire flies which brilliantly floated upon the transparent
atmosphere. A wild and startling note from
some beast of prey, as it roamed through the
trackless and unsubdued forests beyond the river,
occasionally struck upon her ear, and ever and
anon she turned her eyes toward her sleeping
charge, and all the painful and harassing feelings
of the last few days returned. It was like awaking
from a delicious dream, to the stern reality of
some pressing and constantly obtrusive misfortune.
Her previous life had been tranquil and unruffled;
until now her spirits buoyant and elastic. Suddenly
the scene had changed, and all the unmarked
and unrecorded pleasures of her youthful years
were lost in the cares and troubles of the present.
She imagined herself the most irremediably wretched
being in existence. So new was unhappiness to
her, that the slight cloud which now hung between
her and the happiness she had enjoyed seemed
fearfully dark and lowering.

But again the soothing influences of the scene
without imperceptibly stole upon her senses, and
she fell into a slumber. Her imagination, now
uncontrolled by the sterner qualities of mind,
mingled the images retained from the stirring
events of the last few days in the most fantastic
forms. She saw her mother enter the garden with
a slow and solemn step, clad in the habiliments of
the grave.

Her form was aerial and graceful, and her features
supernaturally beautiful and glorious. Presently
this figure was met by another of colossal
proportions, approaching the summer house from
the opposite end of the garden; his step was grand
and majestic, and his countenance stern and warlike.
He was clad in complete armour, and his
mailed heel as it struck the gravel, sent the blood
cold to her heart, and at once convinced her of the
reality of the scene. As the figures met they
paused and seemed to hold communion for a time,
and then pursued their way together; but when
they returned to view, the relations of the parties
were changed, the colossal figure was using the most

violent gesticulation, to which his companion seemed
to bow her head in meekness and submission,
but not in conviction. At this the other suddenly
sprang forward, seized his victim, and was about
to leap the garden walls when an attempt to scream
dispelled the illusion. Virginia opened her eyes
and glanced around the room to assure herself of
the reality of the scene before her. The wounded
youth still slept soundly, and the lamp still threw
its flickering shadows on the wall. By a slower
and more cautious movement of the eyes she next
examined the garden without; all was still and
quiet as the grave, and gazing long and abstractedly
upon the little arbour she again gave way to
the exhaustion of her physical powers, and again
the same figures rose upon her fancy. Now all
doubt of their reality was discarded from the very
circumstance of the former's having proved a delusion.
She knew the other was a dream, but this
she felt was truth, and she even went so far as to
reason in her mind upon the strange coincidence
of the dream, and the present real scene. The
gigantic figure was now clad in the gray garb of
the Recluse, his limbs manacled with chains, while
her mother knelt apart in the attitude of deep and
unutterable wo. A crowd was gathered round as
if to witness a public execution; soldiers and citizens,
knights and nobles mingled in the confused
throng. The criminal was kneeling upon his coffin,
the cap was drawn over his face, and the fatal
word was given! She awoke with the sound of
firearms still ringing in her ears, and the piercing
shrieks of the female figure thrilling through her
veins.

It may be readily imagined that her startled perceptions
were by no means tranquillized on perceiving,
as she opened her eyes, the shadows of moving
figures upon the wall before her. In order to see
from whom these reflections came she must turn her
head and look in the direction of the opposite wall,
but for her life she dared not move! Terror chained
her to the couch. At length the shadows moved
towards the door! By a desperate effort she
turned her head in that direction, and to her amazement
beheld her mother dressed in white, exactly
as she had seen her in her dream, slowly and steadily
leaving the apartment. She clasped her hand
to her forehead and endeavoured to recall her bewildered
senses. The confused images of her slumbering
and waking perceptions were so inextricably
mingled together that for a time she was utterly
at a loss to know whether the whole was real
or a dream. Certainly the actors were the same,
and the impressions continuous. She had not long
lain in this bewilderment when she heard the door
leading into the garden, just beneath her window,
softly opened, and her mother in a few moments
walked down the avenue in the very direction she
had before seen her take.

Her eyes were intently riveted upon the movements
of her parent, until they were hid from her
view by the intervening trees and shrubbery.

But she removed them not—they were still fixed
upon the spot where she had last seen her, until
her white robes emerged here and there from the
foliage, when her eyes instinctively followed her,
straining her already weakened organs to catch the
slightest change of position, and seemingly desirous
to penetrate the sombre shadows of the night,
whenever the figure upon which she gazed was
lost to view. At length the door again softly
opened beneath her window; and she saw the figure
no more. But a very few moments elapsed, however,
before another appeared upon the scene, of
far more gigantic proportions and questionable business
at that place and hour. It was the same
figure which she had before seen associated with
the one which had just departed; and now that she
really saw them in flesh and blood, she was more
than ever at a loss to know which and how many
of her visions of the night were real and which
illusory.

The one now before her eyes was clad in his
usual, half puritanical, half military tunic, and as
usual he was fully armed, but the weapons hung
quietly by his side; his arms were folded upon
his breast, and his whole carriage and demeanour
was subdued, sad, and melancholy. He stood leaning
against the vine-clad column of the arbour,
with his eyes intently fixed upon the spot where
the preoccupant of the scene had disappeared. His
chest heaved with emotion, which ever and anon

found vent in laboured respirations of unspeakable
misery.

At this moment a fierce watch-dog sprung at the
intruder with savage ferocity, and to one less accustomed
to danger in all its shapes, would doubtless
have proved a formidable foe; but in an instant
a heavy blow from his iron sheathed sabre laid the
animal struggling at his feet. He stood leaning
upon his weapon for an instant, and then moved
slowly away until he came near the river, when he
laid his hand upon the palisade running along the
foot of the garden, and leapt upon the beach like
a youth of twenty. In a short time Virginia saw
his boat upon the water, his gigantic form rising
and bending to his work with desperate and reckless
efforts, the frail bark gliding over the smooth
waters, “like a thing of life,” until it faded away
in the distance to a mere speck.

Her eye followed the receding object as it became
more and more indistinct, until a mere undefined
point was left upon the retina, her own
voluntary powers sinking more deeply in repose
from the intentness with which she pursued the
single object.

How long she slept she knew not, but when
she awoke the horizontal rays of the rising sun
were beaming through the parted curtains, and the
misty drapery from the river was rolling over the
hills, and pouring through the intervening valleys
in thousands of fantastic forms, weaving, here a

rich festoon round the summit of one blue hill,
and there spreading out a curtain of mellow tints
before another.

The cool and invigorating morning breeze from
the river, joined to the effects of her last refreshing
and uninterrupted sleep, completely dispelled
the shadowy illusions of the night, and she
arose comparatively cheerful and happy. She
was frightened when she cast her eyes upon the
couch of the sufferer and found him awake, to
think how much and how long she had neglected
him. There was one indefatigable and untiring
nurse watching by the bedside, however! She
had stolen in unperceived during the night, and
now sat upon an humble seat at the foot of the
couch; her eye as brilliant as if it was not subject
to the ordinary fatigues of humanity. The invalid
too had slept soundly, and awakened this morning
refreshed and invigorated, and with all his
inflammatory symptoms much abated.

With all these cheering influences around her,
Virginia's countenance would have been soon clad
in her wonted smiles, had it not been for an unbidden
scene which every now and then was conjured
up before her imagination, in which those
near and dear to her were principal actors. But
these, painful and inexplicable as they seemed to
her, were far from being well defined in her own
mind. For her life, she could not separate the
real evidences of her drowsy senses from the
vivid images of her imagination. She was firmly

impressed, however, with the belief, that some
parts of them were true and real transactions! She
firmly believed that she had seen her mother and
the Recluse during the night—not together certainly,
but near the same spot and in quick succession;
and she as firmly believed that she had seen
the latter disable the watch-dog, mount over the
palisade, and hurry away in his boat. So much was
indeed true; her mother had actually visited the
wounded youth during the night, and she had actually
walked in the garden, and the Recluse was
actually there, but no meeting took place, except
in the imagination of the worn-out maiden.

She entered the breakfast room with these various
impressions, real and imaginary, curiously
mingled and confused, and bearing upon her own
countenance an expression of embarrassment not
less surprising to her mother, who was the first
person she encountered. Twenty times she was
on the point of asking her mother whether she had
walked in the garden during the night, but as often
a strange embarrassment came over her, resulting
partly from what she thought she had seen, and
partly from words dropped by the Recluse in her
hearing—the whole confused, unarranged and undigested—the
latter perhaps being entirely unrecognised
by her consciousness, but still operating imperceptibly
upon her conduct. She was not a
little astonished, therefore, when her mother came
directly to the point occupying her own thoughts
at the moment, saying, as she approached her, and

affectionately smoothed down the clustering ringlets
upon her brow. “You slept upon your post
last night, my dear daughter? Nay—no excuses
—there needs none. You wanted rest, little less
than he whom you watched.”

“I did not sleep so soundly as you imagine, my
dear mother; I saw you, methought, either sleeping
or waking, and to speak truly, I scarcely know
which state I was in;” and as she spoke she cast a
searching glance at her mother, but her countenance
was calm and unruffled as she replied,
“You must have been sleeping, my dear Virginia;
I stooped over you and kissed your cheek as you
slept.”

“And did you not walk in the garden?”

“Yes I did! is it possible you saw me and
spoke not?”

“I did see you, dear mother, but I was afraid to
speak.”

“Afraid to speak! Oh! you were afraid of
waking Nathaniel?”

“No! no! I was frightened at the appearance
of your companion in the garden.”

“My companion in the garden! my poor child,
you must indeed have dreamed; I had no companion
in the garden.”

Mr. Fairfax coming in at this moment, Virginia
hastily took her chair at the head of the table, and
busily commenced her duties at the table, her
thoughts all the while occupied upon any thing
else.

“What a strange being is that Recluse,” said
Mr. Fairfax, with apparent non chalance, “have
you ever seen him, my dear?” addressing his wife.

Virginia dropped the plate she was in the act of
handing to her father and was seized with, to her
parents, the most unaccountable embarrassment.
She endeavoured to make some excuse in order, as
she supposed, to hide her mother's inevitable confusion.
But the latter calmly replied, “No, my
dear, I have never seen him. I have always had
some curiosity to behold him, but now that he has
proved himself such a public benefactor, I shall
not be satisfied till the wish is gratified. Nathaniel
had before excited us much by his account of
him, but now I suppose the whole city will be
eager to pay him their respects.”

Virginia stared at her mother during this speech
in the most undisguised astonishment, until she
saw the calm serenity of her countenance—the
expression of truth and sincerity, which had never
deceived her, so strongly portrayed there, when
she was again lost in bewilderment, which lasted
throughout the meal. Her parents, however, were
too much engaged with their own subject of discourse
to observe her unusual abstraction, and the
meal therefore and the dialogue came to a close
without any farther development pertaining to
our narrative.