 | CHAPTER VI. The forsaken |  |
6. CHAPTER VI.
Of the duello I shall clearly prove
He is a base bezonian, and beneath
The notice of a cavalier who wears
His cloak o' the court fashion.
—The Sultan.
Agatha entered the parlour just as her aunt finished
her dissertation on the character of Hamlet, by which
she lost exactly as much as you have, most courteous
reader, by our omitting to transfer her remarks to our
pages. This, we admit, was an inexcusable piece of
neglect on our part, of which Miss Buckley with reason
may complain, for by some unaccountable chance, on
this occasion she spoke to the purpose, and as we have
made her talk so widely of the mark throughout this
veracious history, it is but justice that we should notice
whenever she came near the thing she aimed at.
But unfortunately it is the prevailing fault with historians
to seize with avidity upon the most glaring
features, which they ingeniously distort and exaggerate,
while the more amiable but less striking traits are frequently
passed over unnoticed, or if noticed, but slightly
touched upon. A thousand minutiæ go to the formation
of a character, without a knowledge of which it is impossible
to be understood, and yet the historian will
narrate a few of the most prominent events of a man's
life, distort them that he may form his own corollary,
his logic. And such is history! As well might a
painter daub an eye or a nose upon a piece of canvass,
and palm it on you for a finished and striking likeness,
in spite of your protest against the possibility of the
man having no other feature than an eye or a nose in
his countenance. But we are wandering again.
On the appearance of Agatha the 'squire revived the
subject of Jurian's conduct, which he discussed with
more prejudice than justice, and Miss Buckley acted
as junior counsel against the party arraigned. She
gave her opinion at large, and touched upon as many
subjects as a young advocate in making his maiden
speech, which is usually a succinct history of the world
from the days of Adam, and a little farther back. She
spoke much and learnedly, for it is said to be cakes
and ale to ladies of a certain, or rather an uncertain
age, to sit in judgment upon character, and upon the
slightest trail they will follow like a setter, knowing as
little as he does the nature of the game pursued, and
at times mistaking a stone for a bird. Still it is very
pretty pastime, and your true sportsman never fails to
bring down the object aimed at, though he should shoot
as wide of the mark as Bob Acres himself, who is notorious
for a long shot. Miss Buckley continued her
declamation until she had nearly exhausted all the
words to be found in Webster's new dictionary, and
had began to coin others, most of which that able
philologist has since introduced, when the 'squire's
patience was wrought to the point of explosion, and
he hinted at the propriety of postponing the balance
until a future occasion.
Agatha was quick to perceive the bearing of their
remarks, and expostulated against the injustice of condemning
a man unheard. She reminded them that the
evidence produced was on one side only, that Jurian
would doubtless furnish a different version of the story,
and that common charity required them to suspend
laid before them.
“But do not actions speak more plainly than words?”
demanded Balcarras.
“They sometimes make a more lasting impression,”
replied Agatha, smiling, “as you, my lord, no doubt
can testify. But still they may be as equivocal as
words.”
“But not in the present instance,” replied Balcarras.
“There is, unfortunately for the side you have espoused,
not even a loop to hang a doubt upon. He has broken
his faith, employed a base artifice to escape from confinement,
and avoid giving honourable satisfaction to
the man he had injured, and yet such conduct can find
an advocate in one whose zeal almost makes me envy
such a state of degradation.”
Agatha blushed slightly at the compliment of the
Scot, and replied—
“Should your lordship ever attain the state you
envy, I fear you would prize less highly the zeal of
your advocate, for my ingenuity would avail but little
before judges, who are disposed to decide contrary to
the evidence of their own senses.”
“Miss Morton surely cannot accuse me of such injustice?”
“You have thus far been but a witness, my lord; I
have heard your testimony, but not your decision,
which I confess I am curious to learn.”
“The circumstances of the case can lead but to one
conclusion,” replied Balcarras.
“And that is, my lord—”
“That he avoided the meeting from cowardice, or
if you consider the term too harsh, call it prudential
motives.”
“I fear,” replied Agatha, with an arch smile on her
lips—“I fear all the evidence is not before the court,
or we should have a different decision. I must therefore
move in arrest of judgment, and proceed to cross
for he had more than once experienced the severity of
her sarcasm.
“What does the giddy girl mean?” demanded the
'squire.
“Never bother yourself about the meaning, sir,”
exclaimed M`Druid, whose eyes had been for some
time fixed in admiration on the animated countenance
of Agatha. “Only let her speak, and I care not if she
talk in Hebrew.”
“Exceedingly gallant, major, indeed,” replied Agatha.
“Cato the censor could not have been more severe,”
said the spinster.
“By my hilts, you misunderstand what I would be
at. There is, to my ear, so much music in woman's
voice, that I would as soon think of finding fault with
an Italian air because I could not comprehend the
words of the song, as to criticise her meaning. There
is no sound in nature half so sweet, and it may be
termed the universal tongue, for it is understood
throughout the world, no matter to what language the
words may belong.”
“Machiavel himself,” exclaimed the spinster, “could
not have escaped from your dilemma more adroitly.”
“Still, major, it appears that you care more for
sound than sense?” continued Agatha, “and if that
be the case, you doubtless hold a kettle-drum in higher
esteem than a woman's voice, notwithstanding your
pretended admiration.”
“Would not the town-clock be a better comparison?”
said Balcarras.
“And why the town-clock, colonel?”
“For it has the faculty of circulting information,
without being sensible of what it publishes to the
world.” He affected to smile, but instead of concealing,
it only betrayed the bitterness of spirit in which the
remark was made.
“The days of sir Charles Grandison are over,” exclaimed
Miss Buckley.
“Diogenes in his tub was a courtier to him,” said
M`Druid, “and, by my hilts, he does not deserve to
stand in the sunshine of a woman's smile until he recants
his libel.”
“Still his comparison fails,” replied Agatha, “for
the clock speaks but once in an hour, and where will
you find a woman of that description?”
“It fails in another respect,” replied Balcarras,
forcing a smile, “the clock speaks seldom, but always
to the purpose.”
“The savage! a true descendant of the ancient
Picts,” muttered Miss Buckley, and her veneration for
the titled man fell fifty per cent. at least.
“I will imitate the clock, colonel,” replied Agatha,
and for once speak to the purpose; so come into court
and let us proceed with your examination. Now, upon
the affidavit you have made, you know of no reason
why Jurian Hartfield should not be branded with the
name of coward?” Balcarras hesitated, and the old
'squire said—
“What means this trifling, you little puss?”
“Trifling, sir? I was never more serious in all my
life, and I expect a serious answer to my question.”
“You have espoused a desperate cause,” replied the
old man, “and as the weight of testimony is against
you, you may as well abandon it in despair.”
“No, sir, I contend that all the testimony has not
yet been heard, and that it is contrary to every principle
of justice to go on to trial in the absence of the
defendant.”
“That is certainly the law of the present day,” said
the spinster, “though it was different among the
Greeks and Romans.”
“But will he return,” demanded Balcarras, “and
refute the charges?”
“If he does not,” replied Miss Buckley, “he will
against the bail.”
“Still you evade my question,” said Agatha to
Balcarras.
“Not intentionally, I assure you,” replied the earl,
“for I know of nothing to alter the opinion created by
his conduct in the present instance.
“Since your memory is so treacherous, my lord, I
must bring a dumb witness into court.”
“A dumb witness!”
“Ay, but one, as my good aunt would say, that will
speak as eloquently without a tongue as Cicero or
Demosthenes.” Saying which she hastily left the
room.
“There are certainly no orators of the present day
to be compared to them,” said the spinster.
“What can the little witch mean?” exclaimed her
father.
“By my hilts,” exclaimed M`Druid, “she is too
deep for my line, but she speaks most musically, and
that's sufficient for me.”
“But I fear, Balcarras, not as much to the purpose
as the town-clock,” said the 'squire, jocularly.
“She has long been preparing to strike,” replied
the earl, forcing a smile, which only betrayed that he
was not as much at ease as he wished to appear.
“And, zounds, she has armed herself for the blow,”
exclaimed the squire, “for here comes the jade with
her dumb witness.” Agatha entered, as he spoke, with
a drawn sword in her hand, and Balcarras with difficulty
concealed his confusion as she approached him,
and said—
“This, I believe, is your sword, my lord, as your
name is on the hilt. I need not remind you how you
lost it nor where it was found, but pray wear it for my
sake, and if it does not eventually work a change in
your opinion of Jurian, henceforth I discard all faith in
magic charms and spells.”
“Zounds, child, is the sword bewitched?” exclaimed
the 'squire.
“I believe it was, sir, on one occasion. What say
you, colonel?” replied Agatha, with provoking archness.
He stammered a reply, which was happily interrupted
by Miss Buckley.
“Orlando, we are told, fought with an enchanted
sword, but we do not meet with any thing of the kind
in modern times.”
“But your dumb witness,” said the 'squire, “which
was to speak as eloquently as Cicero, says nothing
after all. When, pray, is it to begin?”
“You are mistaken, sir,” replied Agatha, laughing.
“It has already held a long colloquy with the colonel;
true, it was carried on in a whisper, but my ears were
quick enough to overhear it.”
“How delightfully she prattles,” exclaimed M`Druid,
who was lounging on the sofa, his jovial face enlightened
with benevolence, “there is more music in her
tongue, than in the harp of old Carolan the bard.” It
is strange how widely men will differ in their opinions,
for Balcarras thought that the voice of Xantippe, when
strained to the highest pitch, must have been the very
soul of melody, compared to the discord that proceeded
from the pretty lips of Agatha.
“Come, child, give us the substance of this dialogue,
“exclaimed the 'squire, “for we must have no
whispering in company.”
“It said, colonel,” continued Agatha, “that a woman
can never keep a secret, so you must pardon me
if I afford another instance of the truth of the adage.”
Balcarras bowed haughtily, and Agatha continued—
“Having the colonel's consent, I need not hesitate.
Then, sir, in the first place the sword saluted the colonel,
and said, `I am very happy in being restored to
you, sir, for I thought we were parted forever.' To
which the colonel replied, `I was in hopes never to
have seen you again, for I have no faith in you. You
instead of being here, I wish you were at the bottom
of Darby creek, with all my heart.”'
“You have sharp ears, indeed, girl, if you have
heard all that,” said the 'squire.
“Rather a fruitful imagination, sir, than quickness
of hearing,” responded Balcarras, whose ever-ready
smile but ill concealed his rising indignation.
“Fact, my lord, fact,” exclaimed Agatha, “every
syllable, besides much more that I heard as distinctly.”
“Let us have the balance, by all means,” said
M`Druid.
“The sword then demanded of the colonel whether
he was a brave man,” continued Agatha, “to which
he replied, with some temper, `who dare question it?'
`Not I,' says the sword, `but for a brave man, methinks
you have suffered an old and trusty friend to be
treated rather cavalierly by one whom you pronounced
a coward.”'
The confusion of Balcarras became more apparent,
for he found himself in that awkward situation in which
common courtesy required him to affect good humour,
while his blood boiled with indignation. As well might
you command a lobster to keep cool while his shell is
turning `from black to red.'
“Well, niece, how did this singular dialogue terminate?”
demanded Miss Buckley, who perceiving the
uneasiness of Balcarras, notwithstanding the cloak he
had thrown over his feelings, thought it a favourable
opportunity to be revenged on him for the sarcasm he
had cast upon the sex. Since knight errants have disappeared,
the greatest stickler for the supremacy of
woman is your virgin of sixty-five.
Agatha continued—
“The sword, dear aunt, replied in your own language,
and reminded the colonel that Octavius Cæsar
acquired more honour for having conquered Brutus,
than from any action of his after life.”
“The sword speaks in parables; I do not understand
the reply,” said the spinster.
“It is sufficient that the colonel does,” replied
Agatha. “Octavius was considered a weak man, and
Brutus himself pronounced him such, but after the
battle of Phillippi, Brutus was silenced and his laurels
were transferred to the brow of Cæsar.”
“Brutus and Cæsar!” exclaimed the 'squire, “this,
Becky, is all your doings; I shall have another pedant
in petticoats, and curse me if I shall understand a word
that is spoken under my roof. What do you mean,
you little playful fawn you, what do you mean?”
“I must leave his lordship to explain,” replied
Agatha, smiling, and left the room. She had sustained
the foregoing conversation with a degree of archness
and levity that ill accorded with her feelings, for notwithstanding
the constant succession of amusements
that the gallantry of the officers afforded, and the novelty
of the scene to our heroine, it was impossible for
her to disengage her mind from a sense of the danger
in which the companion of her childhood was involved.
It lay like a poisonous mineral at the very fountain of
thought, and corrupted the whole stream. The delicate
hue of her cheeks had faded away, and her bright eyes
no longer sparkled with their wonted animation. Still
she was calm. There was no outward display of grief,
but notwithstanding her struggle to appear as cheerful
as ever, it was impossible to deceive her anxious and
doating father. He perceived that both her mind and
frame had undergone a fearful change, and knowing
that the most delicate and beautiful of Nature's works
fade soonest, as if the portion of heavenly essence with
which they are endued disqualified them for a prolonged
existence in this world, he experienced all the solicitude
of a father whose only hope is suspended by a
spider's web, and who is alarmed at every breath of air
that may agitate the fragile strand.
Still Agatha at times recovered her natural spirits,
notes of the blue-bird when he heralds the approach of
spring; the well known sound was as a medicine to the
heart of her father, and she in her filial piety intended
it as such, but like the notes of a bird in the wilderness,
it cheered the solitude for a moment, but when it died
away, the gloom again prevailed unchanged.
The unrestrained intimacy of Balcarras in Mr. Morton's
family had tended to increase the ardour of his
passion for Agatha, which was heightened as he became
more fully persuaded of its utter hopelessness.
Love, though pictured as a weak and timid child, glories
in the rocking of the storm, and gathers vigour
while encountering difficulties. Balcarras was not
aware of the extent of his passion until Agatha's preference
for another, and the apparent improbability of
estranging her feelings, became too manifest to be
questioned. He trusted that the disgrace that had
attached itself to the character of Jurian would operate
in his own favour, but in this he was disappointed, for
so far from weakening it appeared to strengthen her
devotion, and every argument that he adduced to detract
from the reputation of his rival, recoiled upon
himself, until he was finally discomfited with his own
weapons. The railery of Agatha was keenly felt. His
proud spirit was mortified at being exposed to ridicule
before his companions, and his chagrin was increased
at the idea of having established his rival's character
for bravery by the very means by which he had hoped
to prove him a coward.
It is no easy task to turn a stream from its original
channel, and when a man's thoughts have been directed
for months together towards one object, it is not a
slight obstruction that will change their course, but like
the brook it appears as if obstacles only tended to increase
the force of the current. It was a part of the
creed of Balcarras, that no simple girl in the colonies
would be able to withstand a gallant of his address,
which proved conclusively that he had a grandfather
before him, but the earl had now begun to question the
correctness of this belief, though he could not comprehend
the reason of things being ordered so differently
in the new world from what they are in the old. He
ultimately, however, placed it to the score of ignorance,
and deplored the state of society that refused to pay
him the homage to which he considered himself entitled
by prescriptive right. The homely proverb, that `every
tub must stand on its own bottom,' he conceived was
fraught with rank injustice, as it deprived him of an
unquestionable part of his birthright, the respect and
admiration of the world, and he had been startled some
time before at this singular departure from established
principles, by the remark of a rough Virginia captain
who had been taken prisoner at Germantown. Several
of the scions of nobility were cutting their swells in the
presence of our honest Virginian, and the earl contended
that the public consideration to which a nobleman's
progenitors were entitled, was an indefeasible
part of the inheritance of the representative of the
family honours, and no matter how weak or rotten the
scion might be, his influence was not to be affected,
provided the parent stock was a good one. Our Virginian
replied—“We hold a different doctrine here.
When weeds and nettles spring from the root of the
prostrate oak, we treat them as weeds and nettles.
Among us every man must hoe his own row, and he
must do it well too, or he will get devilish little corn, I
promise you. He need not expect a second crop, because
his father happened to hoe it before him.”
Balcarras, on leaving Mr. Morton's house, determined
that Agatha should constitute a part of his travelling
equipage, in spite of the many obstacles that
presented themselves. His pride had been excited by
her sarcasm, and his passion inflamed by the difficulties
he had to encounter. But by what means could he
never reciprocate his love as long as Jurian was able
to maintain his present position. He had attempted to
hurl him down, and had suffered a mortifying defeat;
still there were other means untried, from which a
miracle alone could save the young man. He had sold
himself to the enemies of his country, and if this fact
were made known, he would be obliged to fly the land
of his birth, or undergo an ignominious death, in either
case the field would be left open to our magnanimous
earl. The plot is a good plot, thought Balcarras, but
who is there to put it in execution? He was not long
in casting about to find a suitable instrument, for he
had no sooner resolved upon the step than Paul Gordon
entered his lodgings to inquire for young Morton. The
subject was proposed, and a well filled purse was produced
to settle any abstract points that might arise in
the mind of honest Paul, but none presented themselves,
for the earl was not more anxious for the removal
of Jurian than was Gordon himself, as he hoped
such a result might advance his views with Miriam.
He accordingly pocketed the purse, which he considered
being handsomely paid for doing his own business,
and assured the earl, with an oath, that `he
would blow the young rebel out of water before he was
many days older.' Paul always swore roundly when
he wished to be emphatic, and to impress his hearers
with a due sense of his importance. Preliminaries
being settled, our hero of the stirrup cocked his hat
upon his head in a manner that showed that he was on
very good terms with himself, and stalked out of the
room perfectly satisfied with the unexpected result of
his visit.
| CHAPTER VI. The forsaken | |