University of Virginia Library

11. CHAPTER XI.
THE MUSLIN SCARF.

The mulatto, before proceeding to unfold his plans to his sister for her
aggrandizement, rose from his chair, and took several turns up and down the
room, with the step and air of a man undecided precisely how to broach the
subject upon his mind. At length he threw himself upon a sofa, and said,
in a subdued under-tone:

`Isabel, come here!'

She rose, and sat by his side in silence. He took her hand in his, and
gazing into her face, said,

`I need not tell you, sister, that you are very dear to me. I need not
assure you that I love you better than any thing else on earth! Do you
wish me to assure you of this?'

`No, brother; I know you love me!'

`You do not always feel that I do. The reception you gave me to-night,
at the mantua-maker's, was cold, and almost defying.'

`Because I believed you had placed me there because you had been
angry with me for insisting that you should no more appear in two characters;
one, especially, so low as that you assume at home by day.'

`That which you call assumed, is real! What do I seem to be when I
assume this?' he asked, with a scornful curl of his thin upper lip.

`You appear like one of the degraded class you so heartily despise.'

`Appear! No, that is my real character, sister. I am a mulatto, and one
of the degraded class I despise. As you see me now,' he said, surveying his
fashionably-dressed person, his well-arranged black locks, his mustached lip,
and luxuriant whiskers, `as you behold me now, you see me in my assumed
character!'

`No, this is natural! Education has made a gentleman of you, dear
brother,' she said, with enthusiasm.

`Education! A gentleman! I could laugh at your unmeaning words,
did I not feel them so bitterly. Education has made me a curse to myself.
Instead of making me a gentleman, it has only rendered my degradation more
marked! It has made me feel, with keenest sensitiveness, my debased
position, and — but I will say no more! I cannot speak of this. By-and-bye,
I shall act! I wish now to talk with you. But, touching the low shop
I choose to keep, and the low character I choose at times to fall back upon
— at present I cannot give them up! My shop is a mark — and, under my
humble avocation, as that of Clow, the mulatto's restaurant, I have a cloak
for all the various business that I transact. My shop is a barrier between
me and the law. Few that know me as Felipe Silva, the foreigner, know
me as Philip Clow, the taverner! Of these few, one is dead, and the others
will keep my secret. Not even my own bar-keeper, should he meet me in
my own passage, when I go forth as de Silva, would know I was his
master! Yes, his master! I am his master; and he is white, and I am —
a black!'

`Brother, you are fairer than many men I have —'

`'St! I have heard of white negroes — Albinos they call them; white
even to the hair and eye-lashes. Yet were they less negroes? But let
that pass. By-and-bye, I shall have but one character. At present I must
have two. Hear what I have to say. You are assured that I seek your
good!'

`Yes, Philip.'

`I do. I need say nothing to awaken your pride or ambition! I know
what you feel in reference to your degradation from the accident of birth.
Now, I have a plan by which you can avenge yourself upon the haughty
race that deride such pretensions as ours. You are wondrously beautiful!
Dark as you are, your beauty will command admiration every where! But
those men who admire you would debase you, and make you the slave of
their passions! They would, and will, look upon you only as a rare prize

for their lusts! And why? because you are of the race you are! They
will allow no virtue in its maidens, no honor in its men. He who could ruin
you, would boast of it in the halls of dissipation, and in the walks of fashion!
But your destiny is to be different from that of the daughters of our groveling
race! I have told you why I took you from the retirement and profound
seclusion in which I have kept you, since I saw the first dawning forth
of that beauty which I now behold in its maturity. I foresaw its power.
The time has now come when it should be wielded with all its effect. Will
you second me in any project to place you in a position to which your education
and beauty entitle you?'

`I will, Philip,' she answered earnestly, her dark eyes lighting up.

`While you were at madam's, you were seen by a young gentleman, who
has spoken to me of you, not knowing who you were, but supposing you, as
others have done, to be a Jewess. One of my motives in placing you there
was, that he might see you under those circumstances first. I knew the man
so well, that I was persuaded when the rumor of your beauty, and the mystery
thrown around you by the silence preserved by Madam Anson, reached
him, as I intended it should, at all events, that he would go to see you.
Your beauty ensnared him!'

`Who was he, brother?' asked Isabel, quickly.

`He is a young man who is heir to one of the largest fortunes in the city,
and who belongs to the most aristocratic blood of New England. You shall
soon see him. This man I have destined to be your husband!'

`My husband!' she cried, with a look of surprise.

`Yes.'

`A stranger!'

`He is a white man!' responded Philip, with inimitable irony. `Nay, he
is of the proudest blood of their race!'

`I cannot marry a man I do not love!'

`Thou must learn to love him — for he is to be thy husband, and you are
to be his wife!'

`But does he consent to this strange union?'

`Consent! No, no; not yet — not yet!' answered the mulatto, with a
scornful smile. He knows nothing yet of my plan. Within three days you
shall see him.'

`Where?'

`Not here; for he must not know that you and I are one in blood. He
must not suspect that we are at all known one to the other. I shall leave it
to you, when he does see you again, to follow up your conquest! You must so
fascinate and bewilder his senses, that he shall become your very slave. You
possess the power to do what you will with him, or any gay man of the
world. You must act with the skill of a fisher, and use every glance, and
smile, and word, as links of a chain with which you are to bind him! You
must remember you are to gratify both revenge against the race, and your
ambition to be raised to their level! This idea must not leave your thoughts
for a moment. Be faithful to yourself — to me, and you will be successful.
This man that you must learn to love — or assume to love, I hate, Isabel; for
he has, more than once, shown his contempt for me and my race, though I was
doing him service; and I will never forgive him until I am avenged, by making
my sister his wife! You see that I have many and strong motives; but
I need not press them. You know what I require.'

`But I have never seen him, Philip. Besides, if he so haughtily despises

our race, I begin already to hate with you. How, then, do you command
me to love him?'

`You must act a part. I care not whether you love him or no, so that
you achieve the object I have in view! He is handsome, accomplished, and
as I have said, white and aristocratic, and will one day be wealthy; though
now he is something loose and dissipated.'

`I will see what I can do,' she answered. `Oh, did I know and love this
person, then how cheerfully should I enter into your wishes!'

`Do you love any one?' he asked, with a quick, keen glance at her as
quickly changing face.

`No — that is — no — I do not that I —'

`You have seen some one, then, who has interested your feelings,' he
said, with stern suspicion, his brow darkening.

`No.'

`That faint “no” is not a strong enough negative. Who is this that stands
between me and my hopes and designs?' he cried, pressing his hand upon
her shoulder, and looking as if he would read her soul. Is it one of thy own
accursed and bondage-loving blood?'

`No, brother,' she responded, with an eye that flashed resentment at the
thought.

`Then, 't is worse! for one of thy race might wed thee; but if thou hast
placed thy love on one of the race of those who are our natural foes, thou
art loving one who, knowing it, will think only of making thee his slave!
Speak! Who hast thou dared to fix thy thoughts upon?'

`I know him not; yet I love him, Philip,' she answered firmly. `I have
but thrice spoken to him, or he to me, and then only a passing word.'

`His name?'

`I am ignorant of it.'

`When saw you this person first?'

`Two weeks ago.'

`At Madam Anson's! Fool that I have been, to risk so much. It never
entered my mind that thou mightest be caught in the net I set for others!
What said he? What was his rank — his appearance?'

`A young gentleman, with a fine countenance, and an air manly and
noble!'

`Thou hast his picture, like a true lover, at thy finger's end. I see my
folly! Had he dark hair and eyes?' he asked, quickly. `Was he tall,
with a dark complexion, and very richly dressed, in the extreme of fashion?'

`No. His hair was fair-brown, and his eyes a mild and expressive blue.
His complexion was very beautiful and clear, with the cheeks slightly red,
and colored deeply by the least emotion. His dress was plain, but very
gentlemanly!'

`It was not he, as I hoped,' said the mulatto, in a tone of disappointment.
When saw you this person first?'

`Two weeks since.'

`Where?'

`In this manner,' she said, coloring. `I was seated at the open window
at work sewing, when the wind took my muslin scarf from my neck, and
bore it out, and carried it through the air quite across the crowded street. It
fell fluttering at the feet of a young gentleman —'

`This same one?' quickly interrupted Philip.

`Yes. He was just coming out of the bonnet store opposite. He took it

up, and seeing me at the window looking anxiously after it, he crossed the
street, and as the door was open, he entered, and handed it to me, with a
smile, and some pleasant words upon the accident.'

`What were the words?'

`I have no recollection of them. I only know the tones of his voice were
very agreeable, and lingered long afterward upon my ear.'

`Fool that I have been. Did he leave then?'

`Yes, directly, and passed on.'

`And you were so foolish as to suffer his image, from this little act, to
dwell in your thoughts.'

`I could not help it. Nor did I then suppose there was harm.'

`Great, and, I fear, irreparable harm! But I may blame myself. When
again did you see him?'

`The next day after but one, standing at the window in the upper showroom
of the house over the bonnet-maker's.'

`Did he bow?'

`No.'

`Did he regard you closely?'

`No.'

`And this you called a meeting?'

`It seemed like one to me!'

`It did!' he responded, with a peculiar intonation. Now, the third
meeting?'

`It was three evenings ago, just at twilight. Madam Anson desired me
to cross the street, to purchase a ribbon at the bonnet store, and just as I
was opening the door to enter, he was opening it to pass out. On seeing me
he smiled, bowed, and said,

“`Are you chasing another muslin scarf, miss?”'

`And what reply made you?'

`I do not recollect that I made any. I was surprised and confused. He
directly passed out, without saying anything further.'

`And you have not seen this gentleman since?'

`No.'

`And you confess that on these three occasions he had such a mysterious
power as to win your heart? This is absurd! It is a freak of fancy, and
you must think of him no more, unless, indeed, he prove to be my man; but
that, from your description, is impossible. You think you love, Isabel,' he
continued, in a kinder tone, `where your imagination has only been entertaining
itself. In a few days you will quite forget this person, whom I
should exceedingly like to find out. I ought to be angry; but I will treat
the matter as lightly as it deserves. I am gratified that he seems not to
have discovered your partiality for him; else it would lead to worse still.
But I have all confidence in your discretion!'

`You may have, brother,' she answered, proudly and firmly.

`Are you ready to coöperate with me in reference to the person I spoke
of?'

`I can never give my hand to one, while another has my heart!'

`Are you mad!'

`I will wed this youth, would he wed me, and none other!' she answered,
with a positiveness that surprised him.

He was silent for a few moments, and suppressed, with an effort, his deep
rage and disappointment.

`If you persist in this determination, I will soon correct this fancy of
yours. The young man you love shall die by my hand, ere I am defeated
in my long-cherished purpose!'

`If he dies a violent death, I shall know then on whom to avenge him,' she
answered, with a flashing glance.

Philip well knew the spirit of the young girl before him, and that when
awakened, it was more terrible than his own. He, therefore, concealed his
emotions, and said, mildly,

`Nay, I will not harm him. I will, however, go about to find out who he
is.'

`Beware, lest he come to harm, brother,' she said, in a very determined
and quiet tone of voice.

`I would know who he is.'

`And if he prove well, why not let him take the place of this stranger,
whom I know not! I pledge myself to you, soul and body, that if you give
me leave to cast my net about this noble youth, who has already ensnared
my affections, I will win him, for I shall leave no means untried; for in my
success will be involved my happiness!'

Philip stood a moment in deep thought. Gradually the cloud passed from
his brow, and then he said, with a look less bitter,

`I will think of this. To-morrow I will give you my decision. To bed
now, for it is three hours past midnight!' He gave her a light, conducted
her to the door of an inner room, bade her `good-night,' and turning the
key, went slowly to his own chamber.