University of Virginia Library

6. CHAPTER VI.

Hugh Ogilvie fixed his eyes with curiosity
and interest upon the face of his friend, as
he uttered with animation and heightened
color, the words with which we have closed
the preceding chapter. There was in the
tones and cadence of his voice, as well as in
the slightly embarrassed air of his countenance
something that seemed to Ogilvie
mysterious.

`Who is the person you speak of with
such blushing confession, Gordon?' he asked
with a smile. `Are you in love, too? You
certainly look as if you were. Whoever the
fair maiden is you alluded to, I am certain
she has taken your heart captive. If so, I
trust your love will be requited, and that
you will fare better than I.'

These last words were spoken with a faltering
voice, as if some deep disappointment
continually weighed upon his heart.

`I hardly know whether I shall be better
or worse off,' answered Gordon, looking,
with a conscious smile upon his lips at his
friend. `As I have betrayed my secret by
my manner, you shall know all, at least as
much as I know. You have guessed truly.
I am in love.'

`With whom?' cried Hugh, bending eagerly
forward over the table. `I knew it. Who
is it?'

`That is a question easier asked than answered,'
responded Gordon. `I should like
to know myself.'

`In love, and don't know with whom?
Have you never seen her even? Is it a description
of some one, or a picture you have
fallen in love with?' asked Hugh with surprise,
and the more as the sadness expressed
in Gordon's face, showed that his heart was
in truth no longer in his own possession.

`As I said, you shall know all about it. It
is a little love-passage, but one that has left
behind it an impression upon my very being,
that no time can eradicate.'

`You know, Ogilvie,' began his friend,
`that when the corvette to which I was attached
left the Mediterranean while your
frigate took our place there, she came into
the port of Boston?'

`Yes, instead of Norfolk; and all in your
favor, too, as you resided here,' answered
Hugh. `When I came home, two months
ago, I had to travel all the way from Norfolk
here. And you may be assured I made
speed, for Bella was the star before me.
Little did I imagine when I reached Boston,
that I should find her an icicle. But go on.
I can't bear to talk of her, yet how can I
help it, when she is always in my thoughts.
If you are in love, I shall pity you.'

`You shall learn whether I deserve your
pity or not. After I had been at my father's
in Summer street, about a fortnight, one
morning as I was idly looking out of my
open window smoking a cigar, and wondering
what every body was in such a hurry and
flurry about in the streets, when my attention
was drawn to a poor foreigner who was seated

upon the steps of the octagonal church.
He had a monkey confined by a string to his
waist, and was letting it amuse itself by running
up the column. The man was full
sixty years of age, with a finely shaped Roman
head, grey as silver, and manly, but
melancholy features. Moreover, he had but
one arm, the other being a mere stump, projecting
a few inches from the shoulder.
Besides the monkey, there was on the steps
by his side a small mahogany camera obscura.
I at once saw in him one of those Italian
exiles who wander in such numbers over this
country. Several boys had gathered about the
monkey, with the antics of which I, having
nothing else to do, was much entertained,
when I saw one of the boys slyly sever the
string with a knife. In a moment, rejoicing
in his freedom, the monkey ascended the
column like a squirrel, and perching himself
upon the capital, began to chatter in
great glee.

`The poor exile no sooner heard him
above him, than he uttered a cry of fear,
and looked helplessly upward; but he could
not see him, for I saw that he was blind. I
at once felt my sympathy and pity awakened
in his behalf, and had made a movement to
rise and go to his assistance, and aid him in
recovering his monkey at which the heartless
boys were throwing stones. But I was arrested
in my benevolent intention by the
sight of a young girl dressed in a plain calico
gown, that fitted her small, round waist like
a glove, and in a straw hat and green veil,
who, passing and seeing the distress of the
poor man, stopped, and bending towards him
her graceful neck, said something. The
words were few, but I knew were full of
hope, for a grateful smile lighted up his face
the moment before so stamped with despair.

`She then looked earnestly up to the top
of the column where the monkey was. I
saw her face perfectly. It was lovely beyond
all other female countenances I ever beheld.
Her large, up-turned blue eyes full of benevolent
earnestness, betrayed a soul of purity,
truth and goodness. I forgot the exile, the
monkey, the boys, every thing but that sweet
face. She seemed to take such an interest in
the fate of the poor man's monkey, as if she
had no other thought or duty but just that
present one to get his monkey back for him,
and make him happy. But when she saw
how high up the mischievous animal was,
she shook her head, as much as to say,

“`I can't get him down from there, that
is very certain.”

`I now waited to see what she would do
The boys still kept throwing at the runaway,
and she went to them, and said with a smile,

“`You are too humane, my good boys,
to add to this poor man's distress at the loss
of his monkey, to try do it an injury also.
See! it is coming down, hearing its master's
voice. Let it descend, and if it should run
away, I will give a quarter of a dollar to the
one who catches it.”

`She had hardly got the musically spoken
words out of her pretty mouth, before Jocko
who had been cautiously descending, while
she engaged their attention, leaped to the
ground, and came bounding at enormous
leaps across the street and lighted upon the
iron railing directly beneath my window.
The boys pursued, but also threw stones.
My dog Borneo who was reposing upon the
steps no sooner saw Jocko perched upon the
fence and making mouths and chattering
at him, than he roused himself, shook
his shaggy mane and made a leap for him.
It was too successful. Before I could speak
to prevent it, I saw Jocko struggling and
shrieking in the dog's mouth. I was in the
second story window, or I would have sprung
out; but shouting to the dog to let him go,
I hastened down stairs, but not before I had
seen the brave young girl bounding across
the street to rescue the monkey from Borneo.
I reached the street door and opened it in
time only to see her take the poor animal
from Borneo, upbraiding him as she did so
in a spirited manner for being so naughty.
The sagacious dog, who had dropped the

monkey as soon as she spoke to him, slunk
away conscious he had done wrong, but on
seeing me coming upon the scene, he fled
up the street.

`The brave maiden had no sooner got the
poor, frightened, bleeding animal into her
hands, than without showing fear or disgust
at having the custody of such a little monster,
she bore him across the streets in her arms
and placed it in those of its blind master.
I could hear what she said.

“`There, poor man, is your little monkey
again. It is more frightened than hurt, the
dog dropped it so quickly. Don't let it get
away again. Here is one end of the string
which was tied to your arm.”

“All this was said with such frank, good
natured simplicity, that I was charmed.

“`Here is the other end of the string,', said
I, for I was at her side as soon as I could
cross the street; and I took up the other end
of the line which she was looking for, and
which was trailing from Jocko's loins, about
which it was tied.

`She raised her eyes with a quick glance
of surprise at my face, and the deepest blush
overspread her countenance as she saw me
gazing upon her with an expression of admiration
and kindly sympathy with her own
feelings. Together, our fingers touching, we tied the two ends of the string. Again
our eyes met as she modestly said,

“`Thank you, sir.”

`The poor man hugged and embraced and
kissed his monkey with such joy, and poured
forth his gratitude to her in such broken
sentences of happiness, that I could see that
tears were trembling upon the long fringes
of her eyelids. She made no reply, seemingly
abashed and confused at my regards, and
without lifting her sweet eyes a second time,
she turned and tripped lightly on her way,
carrying my heart with her.'

`I did not know you were so susceptible,
Gordon,' said Hugh, smiling. `She was, I
dare say, a right noble-hearted girl, whoevershe
was. Her conduct towards the poor
Italian showed this. I don't wonder you
were interested in her. Did you never
learn who she was?'

`No,' sighed Gordon.

`And have you not seen her since?'

`Yes; about three months ago. I was
walking home from the navy yard, and about
twilight was crossing the bridge, when I saw
before me two young men who were stopping
the foot-way, and preventing a female from
passing. As she returned to go back in order
to avoid them, one of them got the other
side of her, and as I came up, she was
hemmed in between the two, who were
laughing at her alarm. Seeing me, she
cried with a trembling voice,

“`Sir will you protect me?”

`I instantly recognized the voice and features
of the young girl I had not ceased to
think of since I saw her rescue the poor
Italian's monkey for him. I sprang forward
and catching one of the fellows by the collar,
drew him violently backward, and held
him while she passed. The other made at
him, and would have hit me a heavy blow,
but for my skilfulness in evading it. In an
instant, I had them both upon me; and, as
they were heavy, stout fellows, and used their
fists to some purpose, they would have overcome
me if I had not thought of my dirk,
which I drew upon them. The cowards instantly
fled. I then looked round for the
young girl, but could no where see her. As
she had passed me while I was holding the
young man, she had said, gratefully, “Thank
you, sir,” and hurried on.'

`Do you think she recognized you to be
the same beau cavalier who had assisted her
in tying the monkey to the poor man's wrist?'
asked Hugh, playfully.

`I thought she took me for a perfect stranger—but
it seems she did recognize me, and
as she passed the toll-house, she had earnestly
implored the toll-keeper and two men
standing there, to go to the assistance of a
gentleman who was assaulted on the bridge
by two ruffians. This I learned before reaching

the toll-house, where the two men met
me. I hurried on, hoping to find her at the
toll house. My foot struck against something,
and on picking it up, I found it was a
small morocco case, containing a pair of
scissors, needles and thread, and a sixpence
in money. I hastened on to overtake her,
supposing she had dropped it in her haste to
get some one to come to my aid. At the toll-gate
the keeper could only tell me that a very
pretty lass, as he called her, had told him in
great alarm that an officer was defending
himself against two men whom he had found
annoying her, and begged him to send to his
aid. She lingered, he said, till she saw the
ruffians run after I drew my dirk, and then
hastened on her way into the city.

“`Do you know who she is?” I asked of the
toll-man.

“`No,” said he “but I rather think she is
some sewing-girl, as she often crosses the
bridge with bundles, of a Saturday night, as
if she was taking work home.”'

`A sewing-girl! So you are in love with
some fair apprentice, Gordon,' said Hugh,
smiling.

`This was only a conjecture of the toll-man's.
But, to tell you the truth, I had anticipated
his-opinion. There was ssmething
about her that made me suspect that she was
a needle-girl; and I was almost confirmed in
my opinion when I picked up the scissorcase.'

`Of course, then, your love-dream vanished?'

`Not so—my interest in her was only increased.
The thought that one so young
and lovely, so modest and lady-like, and,
withal, so noble-hearted, should be doomed
to a life of toil for support, deeply affected
me. I resolved more firmly than ever to
learn who she was and know her condition.
Her beauty, and her noble conduct to the
Italian, had awakened in my bosom mingled
love and admiration—and, to tell you the
truth, I believe I felt more gratification in
cherishing the idea that she was a sewing-girl,
than I would have felt had I known she
was an heiress. I felt that I could serve her
if she were poor and friendless, and love
seeks to do good to its object.'

`And did you see her afterwards?'

`I will tell you. Three weeks ago, while
I was walking through Washington street
with Bella, I saw her approaching and carrying
a bundle, and dressed in the same simple
straw hat, and a blue calico frock fitting
her fine figure with a neatness hardly seen
in more fashionable and costly dresses. Our
eyes met. To me, it was like an electric
shock. Her face beautifully crimsoned, and
she looked down and dropped, in her confusion,
the bundle she carried. It fell at my
feet. I picked it up, and handed it to her.
She raised her eyes to mine, thanked me in
tones that thrilled to my very soul. The
next moment she had disappeared, lost in the
crowd. I stood unconsciously looking after
her retiring figure, and forgetting Bella, and
all but my beautiful unknown, I was starting
to follow her, when I was recalled by Bella's
voice, who said,

“`Are you losing your senses, Gordon?
One would think that pretty apprentice girl
had carried your heart off in her bundle.”

`This was said laughingly and with a witty
raillery that vexed me. I walked on with
Bella, but with a feeling of disappointment
that I had not been alone, that I might have
followed her. Yet there was a feeling of
deep joy in my heart to know that she had
not forgotten me.'

`How did she show that she recognized
you?' asked Hugh.

`By her looks. There was no mistaking
the expression of her eyes as we met, which
beamed with a look something between gratitude
and pleasure. Besides, I saw her
glance at Bella, and quicker than lightning
there passed a change over her face, that
was not exactly jealousy, but betraying a
feeling akin to it.'

`Well, upon my word, Gordon, you have a
cool confidence in your captivating powers
that is admirable,' said Hugh laughing.