University of Virginia Library

14. CHAPTER XIV
The Mediation.

The emotion of Mademoiselle Livaudais, and its cause, were clearly
apparent to Josephine, who felt happy that she should be able to inform
Hastings that she, whom he so idolized, still remembered him with
tenderness.

`You will remain with me to-night, Captain,' said Mr. Livaudais,
after a slave had handed them wines, coffee, and other refreshments,
upon the piazza,—the planter's parlor.

`No,' replied Marshall, who had risen to go, `I must be on board
my brig to-night. I nevertheless thank you for your hospitality.'

`Well if you must go, I will drive you down to the water-side—the
evening is so pleasant.'

When they were seated in the carriage, and were passing out of the
grounds by star-light, Mr. Livaudais said,

`Pray, Captain Marshall, will you tell me the name of the brave
officer whom the Marquis has lauded so high to me for saving his
daughter, and whom you and she have both praised so warmly.'

`I fear, sir, when you have heard his name, that you will cease to
admire him.'

`I cannot see why I should,' answered Mr. Livaudais, with surprise.
`I have a great desire to see him and know more of him; and to tell you
the truth, I have become so much interested in him, that I am resolved,
with your permission, to take him back to the house with me in the
carriage.'

`Nothing would give him more pleasure than to go, I assure you, sir.
But there is a cloud hanging over my young friend.'

`Indeed! But it cannot be serious, or you would not retain him as
an officer.'

`He is a native of New York, and the son of a wealthy and highly

esteemed merchant, who left him, two years since, a large fortune. At
the time, he was a midshipman in the navy. Upon hearing of his
father's decease and the fortune that was left him, he resigned his
position in the navy, where he had been very popular for his many fine
traits of character. After assuming the control of his fortune, he
travelled, and, among other places, visited a celebrated watering place.
There he fell in with a very charming Southern girl, an only daughter
and an heiress. He loved her and devoted himself to her, feeling the
sweet assurance that his love was reciprocated. Her father was
attached to him, and love and fortune seemed to smile upon him. But
before he could summon courage fairly to propose for her hand, she left
and returned south. He then resolved to follow her and declare his
passion, with a well based hope that he would not sue in vain. He
reached New York, where he was detained by the arts of a set of those
fashionable harpies that are always found in the train of a young man
of fortune. They persuaded him to gamble, and robbed him of half
his fortune. He awoke from the spell which had involved him, too
late. Ashamed to pursue his original intention with the loss of
character and estate, both of which he held when he last met her,
he fell into despondency and despair, and driven on by a reckless sense
of dishonor and lost happiness, he plunged headlong into dissipation,
and in a few months was ruined. At that time I was in New York. I
was standing in a restaurant, when I saw a young man rush past me
with wild looks and an air of phrenzy. I followed him, for as he had
just descended from a gambling room, it occurred to me that he was
going to destroy himself. I was right in my conjecture. He was
making his way to the harbor to throw himself in, when I overtook him,
spoke to him kindly, and by degrees got his ear and his confidence.
He told me his whole story, and throughout all, his chiefest misery was
the reflection that he had lost the maiden without whose love life was
wretchedness. He told me he had been an officer in the navy. I saw
that he might yet be restored to society, and as I wanted a first
lieutenant, I offered him the berth. He accepted, and has been with
me ever since, and has proved to be the best officer I ever saw on the
deck of a ship. He is a finished seaman, and as brave as Nelson.
We have taken several prizes, and he has been enriched again by them;
and we also captured, mainly through his skill and courage after they
had boarded us, a large brig of war. These vessels I have sent into
Vera Cruz, retaining, however, a fifth of all specie I found on board
for my own use and that of my officers and crew, according to a special
provision made by me with the Government. You already know, from
the lips of the Marquis, his gallant conduct in saving his daughter's
life.'

`All that you say only increases my interest in him. It is not an
unusual thing for young men left with large fortunes, to fall into
temptation and excesses, and finally be plunged into poverty. But it is
unusual for them to rise again as you represent this young officer to
have done. This circumstance shows a right heart and a right head at
bottom, and he is deserving of the esteem and the confidence of the
world for the exercise of such rare moral energies.'

`I am delighted to hear you give expression to such sentiments, sir,'
answered the Captain, `but you do not judge as you would do were
you interested. Suppose that it was your daughter, Monsieur, whom
my young officer had fallen in love with, and he should now, after such
a fall and rise, come and acknowledge his errors and solicit her hand.'

`I would not turn him off. It should make no difference with me,
provided she loved him.'

`But she does love him, I am confident.'

`Who loves him? Loves who?' exclaimed Mr. Livandais, with
surprise.

`Your daughter, sir. She loves my lieutenant, the hero of your
admiration.'

`Who then is your lieutenant?' demanded Mr. Livandais, the truth
suddenly flashing upon his mind.

`Henry Knox Hastings, sir,' answered Marshall, quietly.

`What! The young gentleman whom I knew at Saratoga—who
—why, impossible! I was told, or rather it was written to me, that
`he had fled to England.'

`No, sir, he is the first officer of that brig of war,' responded
Marshall, pointing to the vessel, which they were very near, the light
of which streamed brightly across the waters to the bank.

The planter was silent for a few moments. He did not break the
silence until the carriage stopped opposite the brig. Marshall feared
that all hope for his friend was gone.

`Captain Marshall,' at length said Mr. Livaudais, as the Captain
was about to leave the carriage, `I have been thinking upon what you
have told me. I am willing to forget the past, and to receive Mr.
Hastings as if nothing had happened, provided my daughter has
sufficient regard for him still, to render such a course agreeable to
her.'

`Sir, you have filled me with joy. My dear Harry will go into
raptures at this happy result of my negotiation. I will be sure for her,
that your daughter still loves him. Women do not easily forget a
lover.'

`Well, I am not sure she has forgotten him; on the contrary, it is my
belief she will not need any urging. I knew Mr. Hastings very well
at Saratoga, and was pleased with his attentions to Auguste; for I saw
that he was a young man possessed of admirable qualities, and likely to
render her happy if she should marry him. His family I knew to be
unexceptionable, having met his father on several occasions. But just
before I left Saratoga, some rumors reached me that he was very fond
of play. This alarmed me, for I knew that the father who gave his
daughter to a gamester, gave her to ruin, and woe, and infamy. I took
steps to satisfy myself as to the truth of the rumor. I found to my
regret, that he did play and that be lost much money at it. Although
he had not actually proposed for my daughter's hand, it was an understood
affair, and I resolved at once to quit Saratoga. I did so,
abruptly. The next I heard of Mr. Hastings was, that he was running
an extravagant career of dissipation in the city, and that he was wholly
indifferent to reputation and public opinion.'

`This proceeded from despair and remorse, sir.'

`Repentance and reform, and humble acknowledgment to me and my
daughter, would have been a wiser and better course.'

`But he felt that having lost half his fortune, he could not conscientiously
present himself to you for an alliance with your daughter.'

`I think I can understand his feelings, Captain, but I regret he
should have entertained such; for fortune on his side, when Auguste
has so much, would have been no object. By and by news came to us
that he was lost,—that he had ruined himself, and fled to Europe.
I confess to you that this news brought out fully and convincingly
to myself the painful fact that Auguste had all along deeply loved

him. I thought it would have killed her, at first. But in a few days
she called her pride to her aid and rallied, especially when I told
her that he was evidently unworthy of her, or he could never have
degraded himself in her eyes; for the opinion of a woman who is
beloved, is to the lover a breastplate of proof against vice and all
manner of temptation. Since then I have all I could to make her
forget him, and I have very nearly succeeded.'

`She still loves him. Josephine has been sounding her, and she
assures me that her love is still all his; that in relation to his conduct
grief and pity, not resentment, have place in her emotions.'

`I cannot then resist her wishes, if they should prove favorable to
his reception. In the meanwhile, I will freely receive Mr. Hastings as
a friend. He has sufficiently atoned for his past follies, and there is
little fear of his ever repeating them. The respect for him and esteem
which your narrative inspired me with, before I knew that the person
you spoke of was he, shall not now be lessened with this knowledge.
Are you going on board now?'

`Yes. My boat is putting off. I shall be a bearer of good news.'

`I will go on board with you.'

`Better still!'

The boat soon reached the shore, and the Captain and Mr. Livaudais
entered it and were rowed to the brig's gangway.

`There he stands with the lantern in his hand,' said Marshall, as they
came near, in a whisper.

`I recognize his features. It is he,' answered Mr. Livaudais, in the
same under tone.

`What good news, my dear Marshall? Ah, you have one with
you!' asked and exclaimed Hastings in the same breath. As he let
the rays of the light fall upon the form and features of the stranger, he
started back with confusion and surprise at seeing that it was Mr.
Livaudais.

`Harry, do not be alarmed,' said Marshall, in a gay cheery tone, as
they got on deck. Mr. Livaudais, allow me to make you acquainted
with Mr. Hastings. Mr. Hastings, Mr. Livaudais.'

`I am happy to meet you again, sir,' said the Louisianian, in a
cordial, frank tone, giving his hand to Harry. `Come, sir, I want you
to go ashore with me.'

`I hardly know how to meet you again, sir,' began Harry.

`Not a word. I know all, bad and good. Your friend, the Captain,
has been an eloquent advocate.'

`Am I indeed then received by you, Mr. Livaudais, as formerly?'
asked Harry, with trembling joy.

`Yes, with me. But I promise only for myself. You will have to
ask Auguste, in person, for her sentiments upon the matter.'

It would be difficult to describe Harry's joy. He could hardly
realize that such happiness was his. He went into the cabin to make a
hurried toilette, and as he did so, Marshall explained how everything
had been managed ashore by himself and Josephine to bring about this
agreeable crisis in his affairs.