University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.

The golden sun of an autumn evening was just withdrawing his level
beams of light from amid the woodlands of Hoboken, leaving behind, the
softly gathering shadows of twilight, when a boat, rowed by a single oarsman,
and containing two gentleman, landed at the base of a rock, under the
covert of a vast oak. They were Edward Austin and Frederick Levis.—
The former, wrapped in a cloak, walked silently along the shore towards a
level area by the water-side, in which stood a monument erected to one
who had fallen on the spot where it stood, a victim to the laws of honor,
falsely so called. A lingering sun-beam still lighted up the summit, but
disappeared a moment after Edward's eye had rested upon it. He sighed,
for he believed and hoped that it was the last sunlight he should ever behold.
Levis followed him with a case beneath his arm, and a small sword carefully
wrapped up and disguised in paper.

`It was a curious whim of Frazier to choose sunset!' he said, `But I
suppose it is that escape may be more easily effected, with a night before
one, in case the affair should draw blood. Ah! they are there! I thought
the four oared boat that landed a quarter of a mile above us, must have
been their party. There is with Frazier, Wittlesey and Dr McDonald!'

As he spoke, the three persons named appeared in a path leading from a
group of trees, and took up a position a few paces from the monument.
Levis, placing his case of pistols on the ground, opened it, and laid them
out; he also unrapped the shining sword and tried its elastic temper by a
few thrusts in the air. De Wittlesey then came forward, and Levis met
him, they bowed formally and proceeded to preliminaries. Wittlesey tossed
a dollar into the air, and to Levis fell the choice of positions. He looked
around and resolved to place his principal with the rocks and trees for a
back ground, so that Frazier would have to stand with the bright river
which reflected the glowing sky behind him, bringing his person into full
relief. Ten paces were then paced off by Levis, and the places where each
was to stand indicated by a little stick stuck in the green sward.

These matters being arranged, which Edward stood alone observing,
with folded arms and an air of gloomy abstraction, the two seconds proceeded
to load the pistols under each others supervision. This done they
measured the swords against each other by laying them side by side, and
having ascertained that they were of equal length they declared that they
were ready for their principals to take their places.

Levis placed a pistol in Edward's hand. He took it mechanically.

`Throw off your cloak, my dear Austin! You seem to forget!'

`Oh, ah! true!' he said with a smile of derision, and a look of ghastly
despair.

`Pray be cool and calm,' said Levis who began to think Austin might be
a coward.

`Cool? Look at me in the eyes! are they shrinking think you! Behold
my hand as I thus level my arm, does it shake? Does my voice tremble?
Oh, no!' he laughed hollowly; I wish it did!

Frazier shook hands gaily with his surgeon, took his position, received
his cocked weapon from his second's hand, and examined the lock with the
most perfect coolness. The surgeon retired a little from the line of fire,
and De Wittlesey stood near by him. Levis shook hands with Edward, but
shrunk from the look of anguish and woe he fixed upon him as he said in
a deep, but tremulous voice,

`Farewell! good night! Forever good night! night, night, NIGHT, forever
night!'

`Are you ready?' cried Wittlesey, to whom it had fallen to give the word.

`Ready,' responded Frazier firmly.

`Ready,' echoed Edward mechanically.

`Fire! one, two, three!'

Frazier raised his pistol at the word `fire,' levelled it, and lingered till the
word `three' (between which words they must fire, or not at all,) hoping to
draw his antagonists fire first; but seeing Edward did not raise his weapon,
and supposing him waiting for the same, he fired at the word `three.'
At the instant, he drew the trigger, Edward raised his weapon and discharged
it towards the river, when the ball from Frazier's pistol striking the upraised
weapon in his hands shattered the stock, and hurled it from his
grasp.

`Folly, Austin,' cried Levis with surprise and indignation. `Why were
you so insane as to throw away your shot?'

`I do not wish to do murder in cold blood! Oh, no! I have done murder
enough!' he answered hoarsely. `If I should kill him, even brandy would not
make me forget! It will not make me forget, Harry, poor Harry! I can't live
and think! And Roundy too!'

`For Heaven's sake, Austin, what is the matter!'

`Nothing, nothing! where are the swords? Be ready with them. Do you
not see 'tis growing night! Darkness comes to witness our doings! The
swords, I say!'

Levis handed him his sword with a look of surprise. He could not account
for conduct, the secret of which was hid from his knowledge in the
depths of the broken and wrecked bosom before him. He knew that it
was not cowardice, for from first to last, Edward had not shown fear.

`He is a strange fellow! One would think he came here to be shot! He
seems a misanthrope who is weary of life, and would make Frazier his executioner!
Gentlemen are you ready?'

The two combatants advanced and crossed blades with a clash. Edward
was a good small-swordsman, having had a great deal of practice with foils
in college. Frazier in his attitude and parries showed himself a master of
the weapon. He was remarkably cool. Edward was no less composed,
but it was a stern and terrible composure. They exchanged a few passes,
and then each retreated a pace. As they did so, Edward beckoned to
Levis.

`Sir, if I fall, you will find a package of letters in my desk, at my room.
Deliver them as addressed.'

He again assumed his position, and their swords rung and struck fire.

`I must needs make seeming effort, or he will not press me, and give me
the death I covet,' he said within himself; and then so closely did he engage
and urge his antagonist that for a few moments Levis was sure that
Frazier would fall.

All at once a quick, loud cry of exultation escaped from Frazier; Edward's
sword flew from his hand and he reeled and fell his whole length
upon the sward. Levis was at his side in an instant, and supporting his
head upon his knee. The surgeon also hastened to his succor. Frazier
stood by, with a flushed cheek, sparkling eyes, and compressed lips, very
deliberately wiping the ensanguined point of his sword, by thrusting it into
the earth.

`The steel has penetrated his heart! He is dead already,' said the surgeon
in tones of surprise and pity.

Dead, say you!' demanded the murderer, changing color.

`Dead Sir.'

`Fly, Frazier!' exclaimed Wittlesey. `This is no place for us.'

Levis seeing that his principal was dead, let his head lay upon the ground,
and rose to his feet.

`He is gone, Doctor!' he said, shaking his head.

`Gone!' answered the surgeon, in a tone of compassion. A noble young
man. I knew him slightly. Not a more promising person in town! 'Tis a
pity!'

`He was engaged and soon to be married too, to the rich Miss Laurens,'
said Levis. `It is a confounded unfortunate affair. But he had something
on his mind, that led me to believe he wished to fall! And, poor fellow,
there he lies!

`Doctor,' said De Wittlesey, we are going to cross the river. Will you
accompany us? We have no time. We intend to take the early five o'clock
boat for Boston, till the affair is blown over.'

`Yes. I can do nothing here! I will go.'

`For God's sake gentleman, don't leave me here with the corpse,' cried
Levis.

`There is no alternative! You have a boat and oarsmen. They must do
for you. We can't wait,' answered Wittlesey whose voice, looks and manner
betrayed alarm and a selfish desire of personal security.

The three hastened to the boat and soon put off and were lost in the
darkness that was rapidly falling over land and wate. Levis hurried away
from the fatal spot, leaving the body of the unfortunate Edward stretched
out along and cold upon the ground. In a few moments Levis returned
with the two men and they bore the body to the boat and put off from the
shore, leaving the scene of such deeds of violence as had just been enacted
there, reposing quiet and still beneath the stars and deep blue sky. The
darkness covered the blood upon the green sward, and hid the passiontrampled
ground. But the cry of blood went up from the steeped earth to
the ear of the Invisible, and the recording angel wrote down another murder
upon the page of the record of human crimes!

It was a melancholy half hour for Levis while the boat was reaching the
city from the duelling ground; for with all that levity and selfishness of
character which belongs to men of his class, he could not but deeply lament
the untimely end of his friend; and especially as he believed he had
thrown his own life away, rather than fallen in a fairly contested and equal
field.

Landing at the foot of Hammersley street, he despatched one of the men
for a coach, and placed the body in it. He resolved to drive directly to the
house of Mr. Laurens, instead of to the hotel, which would be too public
for himself; as it was necessary for his own safety that he should not be
known to have been concerned in this fatal affair. He had secured the services
of the boatmen by large bribes, and the coachman's secrecy and services
had also to be secured by the same means.

Having placed the body in the coach, he paid them and gave them orders
to drive with it to No — Carrol Place. `When you get there, one of you
go and ring the bell, ask for Mr. Laurens, and give him this card. He will
take care of the body!'

Levis had written upon a card with pencil, as well as he could, under a
lamp-post that stood not far from the lauding as follows:

Anne Laurens was in the drawing-room reading aloud from the evening

paper to her father. She was nervous and anxious; for she had not seen Edward
that day, when it was his duty, even if he had not been in the habit of
calling daily, to wait upon her to inquire about her health, after having been
with her the previous night at the play. But she had neither seen him, nor
had a line from him. Mr. Laurens had taken a cold by the previous night's
exposure, and could not go out, or she would have urged him to call and
see if Edward was ill. She feared indeed that this was the reason she did
not see him, as he had appeared to her far from well when he left her after
seeing her home.

Evening had come, and now she thought that he would certainly come if
he were not really ill. Her father, seeing her anxiety, got her to read the
newspaper to him; but she read without her thoughts, until she lighted
upon a very touching account of the suicide of Harry Collins, which she
read with emotion.

`Collins! The same young gentleman that dined and took wine with us
yesterday! Is it possible?' exclaimed Mr. Laurens, and he caught the paper
from her. The paragraph was in substance like that Edward had read, and
which had driven him to the anguish and remorse which led him, along
with a stinging sense of lost self-esteem, to throw away his life! It however
contained in addition this to sentence.

`We learn that the unfortunate young officer was seen taking wine at table
with two gentlemen, one of whom, by his age and standing in society
should have known better than to place the tempting wine-cup in the hands
of young men. If old respectable men must drink wine, let them drink it
alone, not where their example will lead young men astray. It has been
asserted by a friend of the deceased Mr. Collins, who sat near him, that he
had not touched wine when he left the table, but that he afterwards was
seen seated half an hour taking wine with these persons!'

`My God! That alludes to me! I am the man! cried Mr. Laurens with
a groan of anguish. `Anne I have done my part to kill that young man!
This is horrible! I never before conceived that I have been doing wrong in
taking wine! But see what it has brought this poor young man to! But
then. I did not take the first glass of wine with him!'

`Who did?' asked Anne pale and trembling at this self-condemnation of
her parent.

Mr. Laurens would have recalled his last words, but it was too late. He
had to reply, but saw at once in what position it would place one so dear to
her.

`It was Edward! He asked him to take a glass of wine with us! But—
he nor I did'nt know—

`Oh, my father, my father! Do not speak one word more! I cannot bear
this! who first taught Edward? You—I alone are guilty! He, he is innocent!
We are—

The street bell sharply rung.

`It is he! Oh, I trust he has not heard of this poor young man's fate! It
would drive him to despair!'

`Mr. Laurens, here is a card for you!' said Plato, pale and trembling.

`From him!' she cried with a glow of pleasure, and extending her
hand.

Mr. Laurens read the first line and suddenly covered his face.

`Father! what is it?' she cried, `Is he ill?'

He recovered himself, and read again. His face was like marble. She
stood with folded hands and eager looks, and scarcely less pale than he,
from anticipation of some evil.

`Anne!' he said extending his hands; `Anne, my child, God has judged
me! Read, read, for I—I cannot tell it you!'

We forbear pursuing the painful scene that followed! The pen fails us in

the attempt to describe the horror and anguish, the remorse and despair—
the utter woe of that hour!

The body of the murdered young man was laid out and coffined; and
the next day but one, it was born to the tomb, followed by a broken-hearted
mother, by a maiden with a wild brain, and reason wandering, and by an
old gentleman who seemed the very picture of despair and remorse, and
who ceased not to weep like a child, and at intervals call down upon himself
the curses of divine vengeance.

`As the hearse returned from the place of sepulture, it was detained a
moment by a crowd gathered around something on the ground. It was the
body of a dead man. He had been ejected, a few moments before, from a
miserable rum hole on the corner of the next alley, and being too much intoxicated
to take care of himself, he had fallen down and lay in the sewer
with his head against a lamp post, when a cart, driven by a drunken carman
in turning the corner had struck him with the wheel in the brenst,
thrown him down and passed over his head mangling it in the most shocking
manner.

The body was taken to the dead house in the Park, and in his pocket was
found the stopper of a Hunting Flask (that having been long since sold for
rum,) on which was engraven the name of `Ralph Waldron, from his friend
W. De Wittlesey.' The same afternoon a pine coffin received the remains
of the young huntsman who had thus fallen a victim to intemperance, and
his body was taken to the Potter's field and thrown into a grave promiscuously
with the miserable dead of that week; for there were none to care
for him in the tomb of his family, which remained yet ignorant of his miserable
end.

Roundy, the faithful and simple Roundy, recovered after a long time,
only with life, and the loss of his leg which it was found necessary to amputate.
He never ceases to mourn his young master's death. Those who
feel an interest in him, are informed that he is now returned to his native
town, and that the thin, slender, skeleton-looking man with a wooden leg,
and a melancholy aspect, who keeps a little cake shop near the village Inn,
is the individual in question.

Mr. Laurens began rapidly to fail. Wine was recommended and prescribed
by his physicians, to revive his strength; bul he firmly refused to touch
it, saying that death was preferable to existence, prolonged by that which
had been the death of Edward; for he had learned by the letters left by
Edward, the whole history of his temptations, just as the reader has learned
them, and knew that he had placed in his hand the cup which had been
drugged with his death. In two months, he followed to the tomb his victim!

Poor Anne never recovered her reason. She remained a few months an
inmate of the asylum at Bloomingdale, and, at length died, in her last
words denouncing herself as the murderer of Edward.