University of Virginia Library

12. CHAPTER XII.

On awaking the next morning, though the landlord
of the Boon felt satisfied that he had been more overcome
by his potations of the previous day, than by
the blows of Henry; he nevertheless determined,
particularly in consideration of Mrs. Coil's opinion,
to lay all the consequences of his inability to get to
bed, to the account of the assault and battery. Hearty
was fiercely indignant at the usage he had received,
and as he dressed himself, finding Mrs. Coil was
up before him, and that from the shortening shadows
of the sun, it was wearing fast towards noon, he turned
over in his mind the affair, and convinced himself
that he had been treated most diabolically. His
memory of what he had said to Henry to cause the
the assault was not very distinct, but there were
certain protuberances on his head, not of a phrenological
origin, which satisfied his Eventuality, that the
altercation on Henry's part, had not been confined to
words. Connecting this fact with his previous opinions
of Henry, arising from their meeting on the
road, he soon satisfied himself, that the battery was
made with malice aforethought against his life. Having
the marks of the blows to prove what he resolved
should be his assertions, he bound up his head, put

on a rueful face, and descended the steps with fewer
misgivings than he else would have had. In fact, he
almost congratulated himself he had been assaulted,
when he thought of his spouse. This, nevertheless,
lessened not at all his designs of retaliation, when he
remembered the assaulter. After taking much more
than his usual time at his toilet, Hearty descended
into the connubial presence.

Resting from her labour of sweeping the room, by
leaning on her broom handle, Mrs. Coil eyed Hearty
as he entered from top to toe, and said:

“This is a pretty time of day for you to get up,
Mr. Coil. I wonder don't you think this is a fine beginning
for the Boon House.”

“Are you knowing to what happened to me last
night, my dear?” asked Hearty, putting his hand pathetically
to his head.

“Knowing! to be sure, I am. You don't think I
was beastified too, Mr. Coil, do you? Knowing! why
I know that you fell off of your chair, and that I got
that big, strange man to take you to your bed.”

“I know, by Thunder, that I was taken to my bed,
my dear; but did you know that I was knocked off
of my chair, and by this Henry Beckford? where is
he? Hang me, if I don't use him worse than I was
going to use him, when that beautiful lady, Miss
Murray, begged so for him that I let him off. Just
feel my head. Do you think a fall made all these
bumps as big as hen's eggs?” continued Hearty, taking

his handkerchief from his head, and presenting
that member to his wife's inspection.

“As I live,” exclaimed the landlady, “your head
is wonderfully bruised, and your neck is all black and
blue.”

“Where is he?” asked Hearty, in an angrier tone
than he had yet spoken.

“Gone,” replied Mrs. Coil.

“Gone!” echoed Hearty.

“Yes, Mr. Coil, as sure as you are a living,
breathing, bruised man, he's gone. He got up early
this morning, and asked how you were? I didn't
know what had happened—not the beginning of it—
and thinking that you were overcome, and not wishing
people to know it, I told him you were very well,
but worn out from your exercise in entertaining the
friends of the Boon House, at our infare. He studied
awhile, and then went out; after awhile, came back
in a hurry, as if something troubled him—brought
black Sam with him—asked for his bill, paid it right
down, and said, `there was a boat just going to start
at the landing, and he had got letters, and must leave.'
He took Sam up stairs for his trunk, and went right
away.”

“By Thunder! don't that show you, my dear, that
he had a design upon my life, and was afraid of what
might turn up. Knowing, you see, that I was alive,
he thought I'd pour it into him, as I was going to do
on the road, and the cowardly scamp made off. It's
good riddance to bad rubbage, my dear, but he shall

hear of it. I'll have him put in the Perryville Champion,
and let the public know of him.”

In the meanwhile, Henry was on board of a
steamer, on his way to the south-west. He had
arisen in the morning with many fears, for the extent
of the injury he had inflicted on Hearty, and it's consequences
to himself. On meeting Mrs. Coil, knowing
as Henry did from her manner, when she held
the light to Staylor, that she was not aware of his
assault on her husband, he asked her how Hearty
was, to discover if the landlord had communicated
any thing to her. When he learned Hearty was still
abed and asleep, the fears of a coward's conscience
whispered him, that the worst results might have
taken place. He therefore went forth to the landing,
to inquire if there was any steamboat about to depart
down the river, resolving if there was, to leave
Perryville. Whether Hearty was hurt much or little,
Henry knew there would be danger in staying,
and Perryville now had no attractions for him, as he
had failed both in his schemes of vanity and revenge.
At the landing he found a boat, and on hastening up
to his lodgings for his trunk, he called at the post office,
got several letters, which he did not stop to open,
and returning with his baggage borne by Sam, was
soon on board the steamer, and rapidly leaving Perryville.

His letters were not of a character to comfort
him. The first he opened was from Stansbury, informing
him, that great odium was attached to his

name from the affair at the theatre, and that Helen
Murray was married to Mr. Davidson, and was soon
to leave her native city with her lord, for his estate
in the south-west. Henry crushed the letter in his
clenched hand, with the wish that he could annihilate
all whose names it contained. He started as his
eye caught the seal of the next letter, for it was
black. He scrutinised the direction; it was in his
mother's hand-writing, but so different from the usual
precision of her pen, he did not at first recognise it.
The letter informed him his father was dead! It
was full of lamentations, evidently from a spirit not
used to suffering, and overwhelmed by the suddenness
of the loss. Mrs. Beckford was a weak woman,
but she loved Mr. Beckford, and the death of
such a husband, during the absence of their only
child, and under the circumstances of his leave-taking,
was calculated to bear down a stronger philosophy
than hers. While conducting a cause of
great moment, Mr. Beckford was taken suddenly ill,
with an affliction resembling apoplexy. He was
borne from the court to his chamber, in a state of
insensibility, and died the next day, without giving
any signs of consciousness. Notwithstanding his
vast practice, he died insolvent, owing to his own
and his wife's extravagance. All these facts Mrs.
Beckford communicated to her son, and she concluded
with repeated requests and solicitations that he
would return home. Subdued, at the moment, by the
news, almost to a resolution of reformation, Henry
determined to write to his mother from the first post
town at which the boat might stop, expressing his
deep sorrow at the event, his sympathies with her at
their mutual irreparable loss, and his resolution, instantly,
to proceed to New Orleans, and embark on a
packet there, for home. He intended to say to his
mother, that he had business in New Orleans, in relation
to his property, which he had more than two-thirds
lost; and but for that, he would have returned
immediately home on the reception of her letter.
The fact was, he shrunk from appearing among
his old associates, perhaps more so now than before,
for the influence of his father had gone with him,
and not even the consideration of becoming the
comforter of his surviving parent could induce him
directly to return. His heart was selfish to its core,
but he therefore felt not the less these inflictions, he
felt them the more as they all bore heavily on himself.
The steamer, on which Henry had embarked,
was impeded very much on her passage, in consequence
of the injury done to her wheels by the immense
quantity of drift wood afloat, particularly in
the Mississippi. Many boats passed her, and many
days elapsed before they stopped at a town, where
Henry had a sure and direct channel of communication
with his mother. They had passed several
places, from which Henry might have had an opportunity
of writing, had the boat touched there, but
being full freighted, she proceeded past them on her
way, nor did Henry make any interest with the
Captain, which he could easily have done, to have
his letter sent ashore. After the first impression
made by the news of the death of his father had
passed from his mind, his anxiety to write to his
mother decreased daily, nor was it until after the
boat had stopped several hours at Memphis, that
Henry wrote to her, stating his intentions of returning
home by New Orleans, &c.

After he had written his letter, he went on shore
to seek the post-office, and stepped into a tavern to
ask its direction. On casting his eye around the
bar room, he beheld on the table the Perryville
Champion. Attracted by the name, which appeared
in large capitals at the head of the paper, Henry
took it up and glanced over it. The leading article
under the editorial head he instantly discovered to
be an account of his assault on Hearty Coil, given in
the strong, exaggerated language of the editor, from
the mouth of Hearty himself. It wound up by stating
that Henry had surreptitiously left Perryville the
day after the assault, and concluded with copious
extracts from and comments on the accounts given
of his conduct and character before he left home, as
contained in the newspapers.

The bell of the steamboat rang as Henry, with
a burning brow and angry eye, was re-reading for
the third time Mr. Finn's editorial. On hearing it
he sprang to his feet, tore the newspaper together
with his letter to his mother to pieces, and hurried
on board.