University of Virginia Library

17. CHAPTER XVII.

Among the humble dwellings of the more indigent
portion of the population, who inhabit a narrow
street in an eastern section of the city, one neat, but
plain two story cottage, may be observed occupying
the centre of a lot—the front of which, during the
spring and summer, was formerly decorated with a
bed of clover, and skirted by clusters of variegated
flowers, whose fragrance and beauty rendered the
domicil and its adjuncts not unlike an oasis in the
desert, when compared with the dingy dwellings and
their unclean appurtenances that surrounded it.

On a sunny morning in October, a scantily dressed
female might be seen slowly passing through the
gravel walk, that led from the street to the front
door of the cottage, which, being opened at her
knock, she inquired in a feeble but musical voice, if
Miss Samuel was at home. The servant answered
in the affirmative, and introduced the visitor to the
front parlour, whose unostentatious furniture was arranged
with that simple and artless propriety which
is more attractive in its effect than the most laboured
attempt at display.

In a few moments a young lady of about eighteen
years of age entered, and informed the stranger that
she was the person inquired for.

The contrast presented by the appearance of the
two females was marked in the extreme. The lady
known as Miss Samuel was tall and dark eyed, with
bold and striking features, cast in the Roman mould
of the finest order; and the voluptuous outline of her
well-turned limbs, the swelling bust and exquisitely
rounded neck and shoulder indicated high health,
while the free and lively expression of her handsome
countenance attested the absence of all care and
anxiety.

The visitor on the contrary was originally of a
slight frame, which disease or wretchedness had reduced
almost to a skeleton;—and her sunken blue
eye strangely contrasted with the bright sable orb of
her auditor.

“Did you desire to speak with me?” said Miss

Samuel, encouragingly, as she cast a look of pity on
the attenuated being before her.

“My business is with you, Madam,” replied the
party addressed. “I have a communication to
make, which I have never found courage to detail
until this morning. My physician having informed
me that my time on earth is limited, and that recovery
is impossible, I have employed the last few
hours of a wretched existence in cautioning you to
avoid the precipice over which my hopes have been
dashed.”

“I do not understand the purport of your strange
remarks,” said Miss Samuel, with astonishment and
displeasure depicted in her countenance; “but if
they are of the character that your preface purports,
neither my honour nor my dignity will permit their
utterance. What precipice can endanger my happiness
is more than I can divine. If your further
conversation is consistent with that delicacy which
should be the polar star of every virtuous female, I
am willing to listen. If not, the sooner this conference
is closed the better.”

Without replying to these remarks, the stranger,
after a pause, which appeared necessary to give
her strength for a renewal of the conversation,
inquired—

“Are you not acquainted with a young gentleman
calling himself Ernest Stillman? It was of
him I wished to speak.”

On the name of Stillman being pronounced, Miss

Samuel could not conceal her agitation, and with
eager solicitude replied—“What can you mean?
—What of Mr. Stillman?—inform me at once, I
beseech you?”

Heaving a sigh, which appeared to proceed from
the inmost recesses of her heart, the poor female informed
Miss Samuel that the real name of the person
referred to was De Lyle; and that, under the
same assumed name of Stillman, he had many
months previously accomplished her ruin through
the agency of a counterfeit marriage, after which
he had inhumanly deserted and left her a prey to
penury and despair. Long did she mourn his absence,
which too confiding love whispered was the
result of some cruel necessity, until she accidentally
met him in the street, and heard an associate accost
him by the name of De Lyle.

Overwhelmed with doubt and astonishment, she
addressed him by the name of Stillman, but what
language could depict her agitation and surprise
when he replied with the utmost coolness that she
was certainly mistaken in the person, for he had no
recollection of ever seeing her before!

With great difficulty she tottered to her residence,
from which she was soon ejected, in consequence of
her inability to pay her board,—since which she
had been indebted for subsistence to the charity of a
poor but benevolent female who became interested
in her sad fate.

While performing an errand for her kind-hearted

benefactress, she had observed De Lyle enter the residence
of Miss Samuel, and repairing to a station at
the same hour on several succeeding days, she had,
unperceived by him, ascertained the fact of his daily
visits.

On inquiry she learned that Miss Samuel was a
resident of the dwelling he visited, and determined
to apprise her of her danger, but felt unequal to the
task until the physician's sad annunciation stimulated
her resolution, by the certainty that if the revelation
was made, it must be attended to without delay.

It is difficult to depict the varied expression of
Miss Samuel's features during this recital: now
doubt appeared the prominent feeling—again apprehension
and anxiety were in the ascendant—mortification
and wounded pride anon assumed the mastery,
and these were succeeded by other but not less
painful emotions.

Pressing her hand to her forehead, for several moments,
after the speaker had ceased, she at length
replied,

“Madam, I do not doubt that you labour under
some strange mistake in relation to the identity of
the person of whom you speak. That you have
been cruelly deceived by an individual calling himself
Stillman I certainly believe, and can readily credit
the assertion that he strongly resembles a gentleman
of that name who visits this house. Indeed
there is little question that the villain to whom you
allude is aware of this resemblance, and that the assumption

of the name of Mr. Stillman, is the consequence
of that knowledge. However, if you will
furnish me with your address, I will take such measures
to ascertain the facts, as have become necessary
to prevent further misapprehension.”

“Having performed what I considered a solemn
duty, with which no personal considerations are
mingled, I, of course, will not reiterate statements
which have been already correctly given. My
name is Ellen Wilson, and I can be found at No.
— Attorney-street. If you should have farther
occasion for my aid in this unhappy affair, I feel
that the application to be of service must be made
soon, for my time on earth is brief.”

Thus saying, she arose, and with trembling steps
and repressed respiration, left the house.

As she closed the door the tears that Miss Samuel
had with difficulty suppressed during her
stay, burst forth in torrents, and her heart-rending
sighs attested the shock which this development
had given to her whole system.

In the days of youth and innocence, ere we have
become hackneyed in the world's deceptiveness, how
unnatural and improbable seems the charge of
treachery against the object of our love and esteem.
True it is that the mind shudders and repels the
bare imputation—yet it is startling to the sensibility
to think for a moment that he on whom we have
lavished the full measure of our confidence, and
whose example we have proudly followed, can even

in the jaundiced eye of the malicious, or the diseased
heart of the envious, be associated with crimes at
which the soul recoils!

Such were the first sensations of Rachel Samuel
on listening to the story of Ellen Wilson, and it was
not until the sad, low tones of her voice had long
dwelt with painful minuteness, on the enormities of
De Lyle, that the Jewess could at all realize the
possibility of their truth.

“Is this tale indeed true,” she soliloquized—“can
it be possible that the rich treasure of my love has
been squandered on one who desires but to possess it
and then throw it `like a worthless weed away?'
It cannot be. I will not believe it. The girl must
be labouring under some mental hallucination, or
the resemblance of the person of whom she speaks
to Mr. Stillman explains the mystery. Oh, that he
were here now to dispel my doubts.”