University of Virginia Library

11. CHAPTER XI.
THE RETURN.

The joy of Nelson Osborne at hearing
the order, at length given by the sorrowing
commander of the sloop-of-war, to
weigh anchor and continue on the voyage,
was very great. He felt that now
his triumph was complete; that Blanche
Talbot was to be his own. He laughed
secretly as he heard the officers and men
lament the loss of the noble young man,
and speak of him in terms of the warmest
praise. He felt that he had no more to
fear from so formidable a rival, who had
already, ere half the term of their probation
had expired, had acchieved honors
sufficient to win him the hand of Blanche
Talbot.

`No one will ever know or suspect the
part I have had in this matter,' he said,
within himself; `and as he will never
live to return to claim her, of course
Blanche is bound to be mine.'

Osborne had now only one draw back
to his satisfaction; and this was the
time that would elapse, a year and a
half, before he should dare to present
himself before the old captain and ask
the hand of his daughter. Till that time
should arrive he felt indifferent as to the
performance of his duty; `for,' thought
he, `in the death of Worthington every
thing is acchieved at my hands.'

The sloop sailed round the Horn and
was absent for nearly a year longer, a
year most irksome to Nelson Osborne.
At length it returned to New York bringing
him home in irons for having, by
force of arms, resisted his superior officer.
He was sentenced to receive thirty
nine lashes the day of the sloop's arrival
in port, and to be infamously turned
ashore in citizen's garb.

For some weeks he wondered about
the city, the hanger on of the docks and
taverns, and finally stealing from a land-lord,
he was arrested and imprisoned
for four months. When he was discharged
the war was drawing to a close
and he resolved that he would prepare to
present himself in his native town, and
also prepare a story of his deeds in the
war, that should carry credit with it to
the old captain. He reached Boston by
working his passage on a coasting vessel
and there, with the proceeds of a gold
watch he had stolen from the captain of
the trader, he purchased a suit of infantry
uniform of a lieutenant's grade, having
been so fortunate, as he conceived it
to be, to see a lieutenant Osborn reported
for his gallantry at the late battle of
New Orleans.

`It is my own name without the (e)
and I will use it, for the owner will
never call for it, at least till I have got
Blanche on the strength of it. And it
is very common for a letter to be left out
in a person's name in the hurry of printing.
Fortunately they hav'nt given his
other name, or it might not chime with
mine. Lieutenant Osborn I will be!'

Thus resolved, he purchased, as we
have said, a lieutenant's uniform and

sword, and having carefully collected the
two or three different notices of the battle
at New Orleans, in each of which in
a different manner, but always in terms
of high praise, this Lieutenant Osborn
was spoken off, he went to the Exchange
Hotel and so entered his name upon the
register: viz—

`Lieutenant Osborne, New Orleans!'

The news of the battle having but a
few days previous reached the city, the
gentlemen in the hotel seeing an officer
enter his name in this manner of course
supposed it to be the same one alluded
to in the papers. One or two gentlemen,
wishing to do him honor and to learn the
details of the fight, approached and, in-introducing
themselves, asked if it was
not Lieutenant Osborn who had distinguished
himself in the late battle at New
Orleans, they had the honor of addressing?'

`I cannot lay claim, gentlemen, to any
distinction,' he answered, bowing and
smiling. `I had the honor to be present
in the gallant affair.'

The next day appeared the following
notice in the Centinel:

`The gallant Lieutenant Osborn,
whose heroic conduct at New Orleans
reflected such credit upon America, is
now at the Exchange Hotel in this city.
We understand from those who have conversed
with this gentleman that he come
as far as Washington, bearer of Despatches
from General Jackson, and has
now extended his journey thus far, being
on his way to visit his friends at the
eastward.'

This flattering announcement was not
unlooked for or unexpected by Osborne.
He had said to himself, `If I go to the
Exchange and put up for a day or two, I
shall get my name in the papers, and
that will do my business with the captain.'
Three days after this notice appeared,
and armed with it in his pocket,
he reached his native town, so timing his
entrance as to arrive at dusk; as he did
not wish to attract any particular attention
until he had settled matters to his
satisfaction over at the `Barracks.'

`When I get the consent of the old
captain, and set the day for the wedding
then I shall have no fears! Besides
what should I fear! Worthington is
dead! And it can be proved that I am
the same lieutenant Osborn that put up at
the Exchange, and who is noticed so
favorably in the paper. What more can
the captain want or ask? Yes,' he asked
himself, as he glided across the bridge,
`what more can he desire? I will have
the marriage take place within three
days. Once married, and Blanche
and her money mine, I shall not care
what discoveries the old man makes, so
long as he never discovers the hand I had
in Worthington's— What can that
person be doing there, skulking about the
captain's?' he exclaimed quickly, as he
now discovered Cesar with his bag of
oranges. `I think I have seen that figure
before, but where I can't tell. I will at
least see who he is, and get a word or
two perhaps as to the way things remain
at the captain's, if it should be any body
that lives with him. It is a negro I
will see who and what he is. By heaven!
If the dead could rise—but it can't be
he!'

He then shouted to Cesar, in the manner
we have already described, and approached
him.

Having now brought the history of
this personage up to this point, and also
farther, to where he makes his appearance
at the door of the captain, after
Cesar's departure, we will now resume
the thread of the narrative. The rap
which he had given on the door, and
which aunt Sarah rose to reply to, was
given with a sort of recklessness.

Like one who felt that there could be

no question of his pretensions or claims
made by the parties, before whom he
was about to present himself. As Aunt
Sarah rose to go out to the door, and before
he was ushered in, as we have stated,
the captain was startled by an exclamation
from Blanche, who, while listening
for what was said at the door, her eyes
being on the Centinel, but without reading
it, she chanced to see the name of
`Osborn.'

She raised the paper to read the paragraph,
which was the same that has been
already copied above. It flushed her
cheek with alarm and misgiving, and exclaiming—

`Can it be possible that it is he. But
it can't be!'

`What child? who? Wait till the
person comes in.'

`I mean this in the paper father,' and
she read it rapidly aloud.

`That is odd! And lives down east
here! It may be Nelson—there is no
telling. But—hist—'

The door was just then thrown open,
and Aunt Sarah came in, as already described
in a former chapter, followed by
Nelson Osborne.

Blanche instantly recognised him and
uttered a suppressed cry of surprise,
while the Captain said heartily—

`Ah, Mr. Osborne, I am glad to see
you. You are well returned from the
wars. Welcome home, sir.'

`And so it is, Mister Osborne,' exclaimed
Aunt Sarah, with recognition.—
`How tall he is grown, and how fierce
his whiskers look. Who'd have known
him. Take a chair, sir.'

`I am glad to see you all well again!'
said Osborne, bowing and seating himself,
and feeling vexed at Blanche, who
had instantly disappeared from the room,
without even shaking hands with him.—
But the noble girl, who loved Archy with
all her soul, was resolved she would
give no countenance to his rival: for she
saw that he wore the uniform of an officer,
and trembled lest it was indeed he
who had been alluded to in the Gazette.

`Were he returned a General I should
not love him, nor would I marry him,'
she said, after she had been walking her
room some eight or ten minutes, greatly
disturbed at the return of one she hoped
she should never see again.

`Blanche, your father says you must
come in,' said her aunt, going to her
room for her.

`Why does he wish it. I cannot treat
this Nelson Osborne civilly.'

`He has returned a lieutenant.'

`So much the worse for me.'

`He is spoken of in the papers as a
hero and great soldier. You don't know
what he hasn't done.'

`He is in a very great hurry to trumpet
his own praises.'

`Brother asked him. Or, rather said
to him, we feared we should not see you
again, sir, as you have been so quiet.'

`Perhaps you did not look for Lieut.
Osborne, Captain,' he said.

`What, are you the officer spoken of
in this paper,' asked brother. `It was
such a beautiful notice, and—'

`I know, aunt, I know. And did he
say he was the person?' she asked, pale
as death.

`Yes, and is now showing your father
some other newspapers he brought with
him, in which his exploits are printed.—
You ought to go down at once.'

`Well, I will go just to see this great
hero, who so modestly talks of himself,'
she answered, with a sarcastic smile.

`Yes, come dear. He will be sure to
be your husband, for it is impossible
Archibald Worthington can ever have
done any thing to compare with this
Lieutenant Osborne.'

`You may marry him, aunt, but I
never shall were he a general.'

`Ah, Blanche, no running away, girl,'
said her father, as he saw her re-enter.
`I have good news for you from one of
your two friends. Here is young Osborne,
who has been keeping very sly
all the while only to surprise us in the
end. This is Lieut. Osborne, of the
army, the very hero we have just been
reading about in the Centinel. Do you
hear that, Blanche. By my faith I am
taken all aback; for I didn't expect nothing
like it. `Why don't you welcome
him, girl.'

`Lieutenant Osborne is very welcome,
sir,' said Blanche, in a very peculiar
tone; one that puzzled the `Lieutenant'
to analyse, but one that did not please
him. He half suspected she knew the
truth about him—but then this seemed
impossible.

`She doesn't like me, that is certain.
The raising from the dead of Archibald
Worthington, however it was done, has
given her hopes of him. But I will defeat
him. Dead or alive, Blanche Talbot
shall never be his. It is the strangest
thing in the world his turning up with
that negro of his, whom I supposed dead
long ago.

`If he has been alive where has he
been? I have not heard from him nor
of him. If he has done any thing more
I should have known it. But let him
go! I shall secure my interest here in
this fair girl before he sees her!' `I am
very welcome, am I, Miss Blanche,' he
added; `your looks seem to speak a different
language from your lips. I am
surprised at this coldness. I have returned
and shown your father proofs of
my good conduct and promotion in the
war. I come to you, as it were, fresh
from the field of glory, and lay my laurels
at your feet.'

`If looks do not please you sir, I cannot
help it,' said Blanche dryly.

`What has got into the girl,' exclaimed
her father. `This wont do, Blanche!
If Lieutenant Osborne has shown himself
worthy of you, I am bound to give
you to him, if he still desires your hand.'

`I still do, sir. The beauty of your
sweet daughter has been my watchword
in the war. I will not resign her
to any! The three years are up.'

`Hear that, Blanche?'

`Yes, father. But the three years do
not expire till to-morrow.'

`And what of that, Blanche?'

`To-morrow may turn the scales in
favor of one who may be able to present
claims superior far to those which
this gentleman advances.'

`Do you mean Archibald Worthington?'
said Aunt Sarah. `If you do,
Lieutenant Osborne has nothing to fear
srom him; for so far as we can learn,
he has returned only a sailor. His name
has never got into any of the papers.
Indeed, Blanche, you must give him up.'

`Not till he appears and fails to show
that he is without merit,' answered
Blanche with a quiet smile.

Archibald Worthington I know nothing
of,' answered Osborne in an indifferent
tone; he did behave very well I believe,
in some engagement early in the
war, but afterwards was put on shore
for some act of insubordination, and
since then I never have heard of him.'

`The story is false!' cried Blanche,
with a flashing eye.

`Do you give me the lie, Miss Talbot?'

`Yes, if you state such an open falsehood!
I know it to be an untruth, a
base fabrication!

`I heard so, Miss, I only heard so.'

`And how do you knaw it to be false,
neice?' asked her aunt with surprise.

`It is no matter now. To-morrow he
will himself in person answer all questions,
and honorably defend himself from

all charges that envy or hatred may invent
to do him injury!'

`Really Blanche, you are quite spirited
in his defence; almost too much so,'
said the captain.

`Perhaps she thinks it necessary to
take the part of one who will be certain
never to appear to take his own,” said
Osborne sarcastically. `Be assured Captain
Talbot you will never see him. He
dare not show his face here, knowing
that one is here who can confront him!'

`And who is that one?' demanded
Blanche indignantly.

`Hist! I will have no sparring here.
I will wait till to-morrow and see what
this young sailor says of himself; for
he has sent me a present of a bag of
oranges, and word that I shall see him.'

`Very well, he may have the presumption
to come. But I think sir, that my
claim to your daughter's hand is too well
established to apprehend that you will
listen to him. He may seek to gain
favor with you by decrying and injuring
me, but—'

`He is too noble for such baseness;
and besides, his own high character is
sufficient basis for the favor he will seek
here,' answered Blache.

`The words and manner of Nelson
Osborne inspired Blanche with the most
intense dislike of him that almost amounted
to loathing. She knew nothing of
his character further than in one of Archibald's
letters to her, he had written and
then scratched out a few lines in reference
to him, by which, for she strove to
make out what he had erased as every
lady would, she learned that they had
met somewhere, and that Nelson had
done him an injury. This was all she
knew, but it was enough to prejudice
her against him.

She now turned away from Osborne
with an air of supreme contempt, and
said to her father,

`If you do not wish me any longer, I
will retire.'

`Well, go,' he answered kindly. `But
you must be up bright and early to have
your breakfast and go fishing.'

`I will be first at your door, sir, to
call you,' she answered, smiling; and
then kissing him and bidding him good
night, and her aunt also, she left the
room without deigning to cast a glance
at Osborne.

`I do not seem to be in very high favor
with Miss Blanche,' said he, trying
to turn off his chagrin with a laugh.

`It is nothing but maidenly coyness,'
answered her father. `She will feel better
to-morrow towards you. You have
quite taken her and all of us by surprise.
I hope you will join our party to-morrow.
We are going down the river to
pass the day pick-nicking and fishing,
and return home with the afternoon
tide.'

`I should be most happy, sir,' answered
Nelson, rising and bowing; `but I
trust, sir, you will use your influence
with Blanche to make her treat me more
civilly. Indeed, sir, I feel that I ought to
claim her at once as my wife.'

`Well, Blanche shall be talked to,
Lieutenant,' answered the Captain. `She
has somehow great hopes of Archy,
though I must confess, in my opinion,
you have won her, and I see no reason
why you should not have her. But as
she kissed me good night, she whisperpered
and said that if I would give no
decision till to-morrow, and then, if Archibald
Worthington did not present
higher claims to her hand than you
have done, she will consent to become
your wife. That is certainly very fair.'

`Yes, Captain. To-morrow, then, I
hope to receive her; for I am assured
that this Worthington is no better than
a common sailor. I will not fail to meet

you to go in the boat early in the morning.'

With these words Nelson Osborne took
his leave, shaking hands both with the
Captain and Aunt Sarah.

When he got out of doors he gnashed
his teeth with rage, for he felt that he
was hated and that Worthington was
loved by the beautiful Blanche, and that,
after all his crimes and deceptions, she
could never be his. He trembled also
lest the return of Worthington should be
his ruin; but nevertheless resolved to face
him.