 | CHAPTER XIX. Elinor Wyllys, or, The young folk of Longbridge |  |
19. CHAPTER XIX.
“Tout est perdu fors l'honneur!”
François I.
Hazlehurst's friends, fully aware of the importance of
the cause to his interests, had followed the trial with great
anxiety. Mrs. Stanley, Mrs. Robert Hazlehurst, Miss Wyllys,
and Mrs. Creighton were regularly informed of the
events which had passed whenever the court adjourned.
The young ladies at Wyllys-Roof, Elinor, Jane, and Mary
Van Alstyne were obliged to wait longer for information;
they had received, however, regular reports of the proceedings
by every mail; they had learned that the trial had
closed, and were now waiting most anxiously for the final
decision of the jury.
“I had no idea the trial would last so long; had you?”
observed Mary Van Alstyne, as the three friends were sitting
bring them the important news.
“Yes; grandpapa told me that it might possibly last a
week.”
“I don't see why they cannot decide it sooner,” said Jane;
“anybody might know that sailor could not be William
Stanley. Poor Harry! what trouble he has had with the
man ever since he came home!”
At that moment carriage-wheels were heard approaching;
Elinor ran to the window.
“They are coming!” she cried; and in another instant
she was on the piazza, followed by Mary and Jane.
Two carriages were approaching the door.
“Here they are—all our friends!” exclaimed Mary Van
Alstyne, as she recognized in the first open wagon Mr.
Wyllys and Ellsworth, and in the barouche behind, the
ladies, including Mrs. Creighton; while Harry himself sat
at the side of the coachman.
Elinor was on the last step of the piazza, looking eagerly
towards the faces of her friends as they advanced.
“Grandpapa!” she exclaimed, looking all anxious curiosity,
as the wagon stopped.
Mr. Wyllys smiled, but not triumphantly.
Ellsworth shook his head as he sprang from the wagon
and took her hand.
“Can it be possible!—Is the suit lost?” she again exclaimed.
“Only too possible,” replied Mr. Ellsworth. “The jury
have given a verdict for the plaintiff, in spite of our best
endeavours.”
Elinor turned towards Harry, and offered him both her
hands. Hazlehurst received them with feeling, with emotion.
“I can't acknowledge that I am such a poor forlorn fellow
as one might fancy,” he said, smiling, “while I have still
such kind and warm friends.”
Elinor blushing to find herself between the two gentlemen,
The countenance of the latter lady showed evident
traces of the painful feelings she had experienced at the decision.
Mrs. Creighton too looked a little disturbed; though
graceful as ever in her manner, she was not easy; it was
clear that she had been much disappointed by Harry's defeat.
“I am grieved to hear the bad news, Mr. Hazlehurst!”
said Mary Van Alstyne.
“Poor Harry—I am so sorry for you!” exclaimed Jane,
looking very lovely as she raised her eyes to her kinsman's
face.
“Ellsworth, can't you manage to lose all you are worth
and a little more?” said Harry, smiling, after having thanked
the ladies for their kind reception.
“As I could not keep your property for you with the best
will in the world, no doubt I could get rid of my own too,”
replied his friend.
When the whole party assembled in the drawing-room,
nothing was talked of for a while but the trial. It appeared
that the jury had been fifteen hours considering their verdict.
The doors of the court-room had been crowded by people
curious to learn the decision of the case, and when the jury
entered the court with their verdict there was a rush forward
to hear it.
“Verdict for the plaintiff—” was announced by the clerk
in a loud voice, in the usual official manner.
“Clapp was standing near me at the moment,” said Harry,
“there was a flash of triumph in his face as he turned towards
me. The sailor actually looked bewildered for an
instant, but he soon appeared very well satisfied. As for
myself, I honestly declare that I expected such would be the
result.”
“It was too late to write to you, my child,” said Mr.
Wyllys; “we only heard the verdict in time to prepare for
leaving town in the morning's boat. And now, Nelly, you
must give us some consolation in the shape of a good dinner.”
It was very evident that although everybody endeavoured
to wear a cheerful face, the defeat had been much felt by
Mrs. Stanley, Mr. Wyllys, and Ellsworth. Hazlehurst himself
really appeared better prepared for the misfortune than
any of the party; in fact he conceived Mrs. Stanley's position
to be more painful than his own, though so much less
critical in a pecuniary view. Mrs. Creighton was certainly
neither so gay, nor so easy as usual in her manner; one
might have fancied that she felt herself in an unpleasant and
rather an awkward position—a very unusual thing for that
lady. It might have struck an observer that she wished to
appear as amiable as ever to Harry, but she did not succeed
entirely in concealing that her interest in him was materially
diminished, now that he was no longer Mr. Stanley's heir.
It was only by trifling shades of manner, however, that this
was betrayed; perhaps no one of the circle at Wyllys-Roof
remarked it; perhaps it was not lost upon Hazlehurst; there
seemed to be an occasional expression in his eye which said
so.
After the party had separated to prepare for dinner, Elinor
joined her aunt, and learned many farther particulars of the
trial.
“Is there no hope, Aunt?—can nothing be done—no new
trial?”
“I am afraid not. The gentlemen are to hold several
consultations on that point, however, but they seem to agree
that little can be done. Both your grandfather and Harry
were determined to go on if there were the least probability
of success; but Mr. Grant, Mr. Ellsworth, and several other
gentlemen say they can give them no grounds for encouragement;
the trial was perfectly regular, and they think an
appeal for a new trial would be rejected; and even if it
were granted, they see no reason to hope for a different
verdict.”
“And yet there cannot be a doubt, Aunt, to us at least,
that this man is an impostor!” exclaimed Elinor.
“No, not to us certainly; but it was not possible to place
the proofs of this as clearly before the court as they have
appeared to us. Harry says he was afraid from the beginning
that this would be the case.”
“How well he bears it!” exclaimed Elinor. “And Mrs.
Stanley, she can scarcely speak on the subject!”
“She feels it most keenly. Would you believe it, my
child, when we arrived on board the boat this morning, we
found Mr. Clapp and this man already there; and at a
moment when Mrs. Stanley and I were sitting alone together,
the gentlemen having left us, and Mrs. Creighton being with
another party, they came and walked up and down before
us. Mr. Clapp took off his hat, and running his hand
through his hair, as he does so often, he said in a loud voice:
`Well, Mr. Stanley, when do you go to Greatwood?' Happily,
Harry saw us from the other side of the deck, and he
instantly joined us. Of course we did not mention to him
what had passed; and although Mr. Clapp was noisy and
vulgar, yet he did not come so near us again.”
“What a miserable man he is!” exclaimed Elinor. “And
is it possible that sailor is going to take possession of my
uncle Stanley's house immediately?”
“I do not know, my child. Everything has been left in
the hands of Robert Hazlehurst and Mr. Grant, by our
friends.”
Already had Elinor's mind been busy with planning relief
for Hazlehurst; if he were now worse than penniless, she
was rich—it would be in her power to assist him. The point
itself had been long since settled by her, but the manner in
which it was to be done was now to be considered. She
was determined at least that her old playfellow should have
the use of any sum he might require, under the circumstances
that would be the easiest and most acceptable to himself.
Her grandfather must make the offer; they would either
wait until he returned from the cruise in the Petrel, or possibly
it would be better to write to him while absent.
Elinor had, perhaps, been more disappointed by the verdict
than any one, for she had been very sanguine as to the result;
she had not conceived it possible that such gross injustice
could triumph.
But, alas, how imperfect is merely human justice in its
best form! It is a humiliating reflection for the human race,
that Justice, one of the highest attributes of Truth, should
have so little power among men; that when guided by human
reason alone she should so often err!
To guard faithfully the general purity of Justice, to watch
that her arm is neither crippled by violence nor palsied by
fear, that her hands are not polluted by bribery, nor her ears
assailed by flattery, is all that human means can do; but wo
to the society where this duty is neglected, for disgrace and
general corruption are then inevitable.
It was a day of movement at Wyllys-Roof; after the
arrival of the party from Philadelphia there were constant
communications with their neighbours at Broadlawn, as the
long talked of cruise of the Petrel had been only postponed
for Harry's return, and young de Vaux was now all impatience
to be off. When Elinor went down for dinner she found
Ellsworth and Harry on the piazza playing with Bruno, the
fine Newfoundland dog which Hazlehurst had given her when
he first went abroad.
“He is a noble creature!” exclaimed Ellsworth.
“I am making friends with Bruno again, you see,” said
Harry as Elinor drew near. “What would you say if I
coaxed him off to the Petrel with me to-morrow?”
“You are very welcome to his company for the voyage,
if you can persuade him to go. Down Bruno, down my
good friend,” she said, as the dog bounded towards her; “I
wish you would remember that a thin white dress must be
treated with some respect. Are you really going to-morrow?”
she added, turning to Harry.
“Yes; we are under sailing orders. I have just been
over to look at the Petrel, and everything is ready. De
has been collected for some days. I found Smith the conchologist,
and Stryker, at Broadlawn.”
“Has your course been finally settled?” asked Ellsworth.
“Yes; we are to circumnavigate Long-Island.”
“You will have an agreeable cruise, I dare say, with a
pleasant set of messmates; Hubert de Vaux is a good fellow
himself, and Stryker is in his element on such occasions.”
“We are to have Charlie Hubbard too, and Harman Van
Horne.”
“How long will you be gone?” said Elinor.
“Some ten days, or a fortnight at the very farthest.”
“Can we see anything of Mr. de Vaux's boat from here?”
asked Mrs. Creighton, stepping on the piazza.
“Only her masts; in this direction, near the grove,” replied
Harry. “She is a schooner, and a beautiful craft, too.”
“Miss Wyllys, you should coax Mr. de Vaux to give the
ladies a pic-nic when he returns,” said Mrs. Creighton.
“No doubt he would be happy to do so, if you were to
express the wish,” said Elinor.
“Unfortunately I shall not be here. Wyllys-Roof is a
dangerous place, one always stays here too long; but I cannot
positively afford more than a day or two at present; I
have promised to be in town on Thursday.”
Elinor expressed her regrets very hospitably; and they
were soon after summoned to dinner.
In the evening, Hubert de Vaux and the gentlemen from
Broadlawn, engaged for the cruise, walked in. Charlie
Hubbard was there too; he had remained in Philadelphia
during the whole trial, and had just returned home that
morning.
“And so you are positively going to-morrow,” said Mr.
Wyllys to young de Vaux.
“Positively; at six in the morning.
“Is it part of your plan, to stow yourselves away at night
in the Petrel?”
“The Petrel's cabin is not to be despised, I assure you,
sir. It has six as good berths as those of any North-River
sloop that ever carried passengers in days of yore. But we
shall only sleep on board occasionally, for the fun of the
thing.”
“At what places do you intend to put into port?”
“We are going to shoot for a day or two on Long-Island;
and we shall let the Yankees have a sight of the Petrel, at
New Haven, Sachem's-Head, and Nantucket.”
“I have no doubt you will have a pleasant excursion.”
“Our only difficulty at present seems the prospect of too
much comfort,” said Charlie. “Mrs. de Vaux expressed
some fears of a famine at Longbridge in consequence of this
cruise, we carry off such a stock of provisions.”
“Not a bit too much; people always want twice as much
on a party of pleasure as at other times,” said Hubert de
Vaux.
The plan of the cruise was talked over in all its details,
and the whole party seemed pleased with the idea. Young
Van Horne, now a practising physician in New York, was
delighted with the prospect of a week's liberty; Mr. Smith,
the conchologist, hoped to pick up some precious univalve
or bivalve; Charlie talked of taking a sketch of Cape Cod;
Harry declared he was determined to enjoy the trip, as the
last holiday he could allow himself for a long time; and Mr.
Stryker promised himself the best of chowders, a sea-dish
in which he professed himself to be a great connoisseur.
Mrs. Creighton indeed declared, that he looked upon that
season as lost, in which he could not make some improvement
in his celebrated receipt for chowder. Whether it was
that this lady's gaiety and coquetry instinctively revived in
the company of so many gentlemen, or whether she felt
afraid of Mr. Stryker's keen, worldly scrutiny, her manner
in the evening resumed entirely its wonted appearance; she
was witty, graceful, piquant, and flattering as ever, and quite
as much so with Hazlehurst as with any.
“What do you say to a game of chess, Mrs. Creighton?”
asked Mr. Wyllys.
“With pleasure, sir; I am always at your service. Not
that it is very pleasant to be beaten so often, but I really think
I improve under your instructions. You are so much interested
yourself that you inspire others.”
“You must allow me, Mrs. Creighton, to suggest something
for your improvement,” said Mr. Stryker.
“And what is it, pray?”
“You talk too much; you make yourself too agreeable
to your adversary—that is not fair.”
“Oh, it is only a ruse de guerre; and Mr. Wyllys beats
me nine games out of ten, in spite of my chattering.”
“No doubt; but if you could make up your mind to be
less charming for half an hour, you might have the honours
of the game oftener.”
“I must gain the battle my own way, Mr. Stryker, or not
at all.”
“I leave you to your fate, then,” said the gentleman,
turning away.
Charlie, Elinor, Harry, and Jane were quietly talking together;
Jane having now resumed her place in the family
circle. They were speaking of Charlie's sketches, and the
young widow asked if he ever painted portraits now; Miss
Wyllys wished to have her's taken, before she left them to
return to her parents.
“You do paint portraits,” said Elinor; “I have seen those
of your mother and Miss Patsey.”
Charlie changed colour, and hastily denied any claim to
be called a portrait-painter.”
“Yet it would be pleasant,” said Elinor, “to have a picture
of my cousin painted by you.”
Jane observed she should like to have Elinor's, by the
same hand.
“Oh, my portrait would not be worth having,” said Elinor,
smiling; “certainly not if taken by an honest artist.”
“You will both, I hope, fare better from the hands of Mr.
I— or Mr. S—,” said Charlie, with some little embarrassment.
Mr. Ellsworth, who had been standing near the group, now
asked Elinor to sing.
“What will you have?” she replied, taking a seat at the
piano.
“Anything you please.”
“Pray then give us Robin Adair, Miss Elinor,” said
Charlie.
Elinor sang the well-known song with greater sweetness
than usual—she was decidedly in good voice; both Charlie
and Harry listened with great pleasure as they stood by her
side. Jane was also sitting near the piano, and seemed more
interested in the music than usual; it was a song which the
young widow had so often heard, in what she now looked
back to as the happy days of her girlhood. More than one
individual in the room thought it charming to listen to Elinor
and look at Jane, at the same instant. Several of the gentlemen
then sang, and the party broke up cheerfully.
Little was it thought, that never again could the same
circle be re-united at Wyllys-Roof; all who crossed the
threshold that night were not to return.
| CHAPTER XIX. Elinor Wyllys, or, The young folk of Longbridge | |