University of Virginia Library

21. CHAPTER XXI.,
Wherein I cultivate Amelia's acquaintance, and
get a nurse.

I was informed by M`Manus, two
days after, that Amelia had paid her
rent, some unknown friend having sent
her the money. He supposed it to
come from the owners of some vessel
in which Van Kline had formerly sailed.
I did not undeceive him, and there
the matter rested.

My life for some months more was a
monotonous one, with little to interest
or excite me. I went to the office regularly
each day, received my weekly
pay on every Monday morning, and
was soon able to replace the amount
I had used out of Sharp's two thou
sand pounds. I generally spent my
surplus earnings after that in my old
pursuit of acquiring languages, but
occasionally went to a concert or a
picture-gallery with one of my English
friends. I was by no means fond of
society, and my intimacies were few.
My exile had grown irksome, and I was
desirous to terminate it; but Paul, to
whom I had written on the subject, advised
me to remain for the present
where I was. The Earl of Landys still
vibrated between his country residence
and London; Mr. Osborne lorded it
over the castle as usual; no farther
attempt had been made against Espinel,
who had gone to Spain; and Zara,
who was under the joint guardianship
of the Duke and Paul, always desired
to be remembered to me, and was
growing into a fine woman. The Guttenbergs,
it appeared, were well and
flourishing, and Mary was about to be
married to Tom Brown, whose uncle, a
London grocer, had left him a smart
sum, and who, on the marriage, was
to have an interest in the Chronicle.
Old Sharp, by all accounts, was about
the same, only richer, as the leases of
many of his houses had reverted to
him, and the rise of property in the
suburbs at Puttenham had added immensely
to his wealth. Capt. Berkely,
promoted to a majority, had been ordered
to India shortly after my departure,
and had distinguished himself in a difficulty
with the Affghans, when he was
by seniority the commanding officer of
a division which had been attacked by
the enemy; and Paul himself, as I
judged more from the newspapers he
had sent me than by his letters, was
growing in reputation as an artist
Once, too, he hinted at his forthcoming
marriage, but did not name the lady.

Sharp wrote me occasionally, but he
gave me no news, confining himself to
advice, and minute inquires as to my
doings.

My friend M`Manus continued all
this while to be as boisterous as ever,
and did not seem more subdued by an
addition to his household, which was
made seven months after I first visited
his house. This came in the form of a
youngster whose face gave indications
of duplicating the father's, whenever
it took a decided outline—a lusty,
healthy boy, with vigorous lungs, eyes
of great concentration of gaze, whether
upon a stranger or the tip of his
own nose, and hair of a tendency toward
the color of a badly-burned brick.
At one of my visits to this fellow and
his parents I first met Amelia Van
Kline.

I felt a strong interest in this girl,
though her father was a murderer, and
admired the quiet heroism with which
she was fighting her way through the
world. I saw she was not so handsome
as I thought her when we first
met. Her cheek-bones were high, her
skin was inclined to coarseness, and
her nostrils were rather too narrow;
but she had large, intelligent grey
eyes, very small and well-shaped hands,
and a good figure. She had a low-toned
voice; and an occasional smile
relieved the prevailing sadness of expression,
and lit up her features pleasantly.
She was shy of me at first,
but I gradually drew her out. I found
that she had received little education;
but possessed a naturally clear mind;
and her conversation, though feminine
in expression, was masculine in tone.
Some of her remarks were striking,
and even epigrammatic. The commonplace
phrase, “she talks like a
book,” would give some idea of the
style of her conversation, and yet she
had evidently read few books. She
struck me as a very estimable young
woman, with a deep sense of duty a
kind heart, and a strong regard for
real propriety and right, without regard
for conventional rules. Little as
I had been thrown into female society,
she made for me an attractive and singular
study.

As time passed away, and we met
more frequently, we grew tolerably intimate,
and sometimes I would take
her to a concert, where she would sit
with her grey eyes fixed on the musicians,
and her ears drinking in the
sounds greedily. It was a pleasant
thing to watch her wrapt and intense
enjoyment on such occasions. It was
a long time before I knew that she
herself had a fine voice, and that she
could read music accurately, singing
at sight with facility. Mrs. M`Manus,
though but an ordinary performer,
clothed herself and made her own pocket
money, by giving lessons on the piano;
and one evening when Amelia
was there brought out a new song, and
asked her young friend to try it for
her. When she complied I was astonished
by the ease of her performance
and the quality of her voice. I was
not a profound judge, of course, but I
could not mistake the fact that she had
an organ of great compass, flexibility
and volume; and I thought it sad that
one so gifted should drag along existence
in earning with her needle barely
enough for the support of her mother
and herself.

An opportunity occurred for me to
serve her in that respect, and I embraced
it.

There was a German by the name of

Froebel, an organist in one of the fashionable
up-town churches, with whom
I had a dining acquaintance. I had
met him at the eating saloon where I
took my dinner, and finding that he
was a native of Berlin, and a fine scholar,
took the opportunity of getting
him, from time to time, to correct the
accent of my German. In the course
of our conversation one day, as we sat
at our table together, I observed to
him that he seemed to be vexed.

“Ach! Himmel, yaes! I have
trouble, my goot friend. My quire has
near kill me. It is go from bad to
worse, and now my contralto have
married and gone South, and she under
contract for one year, which she
ought not to do. I can buy contralto
all round, very plenty; but I have not
the means. The stingy fellows; they
allow me two hundred and fifty dollar
only for contralt, and expect angel that
sing at sight, and have fine voice, for
so little money. Ach!”

“Is it necessary that she should
know the church service thoroughly?”

“It is better so. But give me good
reader of music, and good voice, and I
can make all the rest her to know myself.”

“I think I can find you a contralto
that will suit you.”

“Can you? You shall have taken
much trouble from me. A countryman,
musician, came to hear as last
Sunday, and he say I have quire of
wild beast. Ach!”

I mentioned to him Amelia's name
and address, sending him to Mrs. McManus
with a note. The German
went, was delighted, took Amelia in
the choir on trial, and at the end of
three weeks she was engaged permanently.

“Ah, mine friend!” said Froebel, on
meeting me afterward, “I was much
obliged. That was fine contralto, indeed!
Herrmann shall say now if my
quire be wild beast.”

I used to go to St. Martin's church
nearly every Sunday after that, and I
am ashamed to say, less on account of
the service than the music. Froebel
was a capital organist, and understood
his profession thoroughly. The choir
soon gave evidence that it needed only
a capital contralto to balance the voices,
and a perfect quartette was the result.
I used to sit there and listen to the music
in great delight, and when the service
was over would quietly go home.
Sometimes, it is true, I walked home
with Amelia, but as a general thing I
left her under the guardianship of
the tenor, a pale, slender young man,
with a remarkably long, tawny imperial,
which hung from beneath his lower
lip, twisted and particolored, like
the string of a tobacco pouch.

It was after one of these visits, on a
Sunday afternoon, that I felt a certain
dizziness in my head as I walked along,
so much so that I staggered, and came
near falling once or twice. This was
accompanied by a violent pain in the
head and back. I reached home and
went to bed where I passed an uneasy
night. In the morning I found that I
had a high fever, and there were little
splotches here and there on my skin.
It was not long before these assumed
a pustular form, when I managed to
let the girl know that I wanted a doctor.
He came, shook his head, and
said I must have good attendance.
That night, however, I must have gone
off in delirium, for I remembered no
more except a faint conversation with
somebody, and the taking of some medicine,

until I found myself in old
Sharp's garret in the town of Puttenham.

Sharp, it seemed to me, was lying
on his pallet, as I had seen him the
night I watched with him. I thought
there were coals in the grate, and that
I wanted a piece of paper to light the
fire. I looked around. There was a
portfolio on the table—I observed its
color, shape, and general appearance
distinctly. There were some loose
ends of papers peering out at the edges,
and I opeued it to see if any of them
could be burned. On their top I noticed
a small packet, soiled and stained.
It was directed in Spanish to “el
Conde Lan Diez.” I was about to open
it, when Sharp arose from the bed, and
with the words, “wait until I am dead,”
took it way. I was about to remonstrate,
for I felt that this was the packet
originally delivered to John Guttenberg,
when I felt some one lightly
touch my head. I looked up. It was
Amelia Van Kline.

“Amelia!” I said.

“Oh, doctor!” she exclaimed, “he's
better. He knows me.”

I looked around. I was in my own
room, which was partially darkened.
Amelia was standing over me, and
with her was an elderly man in black.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Very well, but rather weak and
thirsty. This is Doctor Pascoe?”

“Yes.”

“What is the matter with me?”

“You have had the small-pox, but
you'll do very well now; but let me
caution you to keep your fingers from
your face, when it begins to itch, or
you'll mark yourself. You have been
very well attended, thanks to your
friends, and to the care of this young
lady.”

“I am sure I am grateful—and to
you also.”

“Oh, as to me, my attentions have
been professional, and need no thanks.
Besides, I should take some interest in
you, for you are a countryman.”

“You are an Englishman; may I
ask from what part?”

“Leeds last; though I practiced
once in Puttenham.”

“Did you? That's my native town.”

“Indeed! I made the largest fee
there I ever received; and a singular
case it was, too. Lie quiet; you want
a little conversation, and if you will
keep still, I'll tell you the circumstances.”

“Do so.”

“It was in a snowy night in 1827,
when about ten o'clock in the evening
I was getting ready to retire to my
bed. A rap came to the door, and I
went down myself to answer it. A
tall, dark man stood there, wrapped
about the shoulders in a fur cape. He
had his face muffled up.”

“In 1827—a tall, dark man—fur
cape—pray, go on.”

“Well, the man told me I was wanted
at once to attend a lady, and I prepared
to go, but he stopped me.”

“`There's one thing preliminary,'
he said. `At a certain street you must
be blindfolded, and let me lead you to
your patient.'

“`Fiddlesticks!' was my reply. `I
shall do no such thing.'

“`You will,' he continued. `To
show you that no harm is intended,
here are thirty sovereigns. Examine
them, leave them behind you. There
are reasons why this matter should be

private. Time presses; accept or reject
my offer.'

“I reflected a moment. It was the
outset of my practice. The sum, to
me, was enormous just then. I had no
enemies that I knew of.

“`Can I arm myself?' I asked.

“`To the teeth, if you desire it.'

“`Well,' said I, `I will go, and without
arms.'

“And go I did. I was blindfolded,
at the point agreed on, and led what I
supposed was a circuitous route, taken
up crazy old stairs into a half-darkened
room, where I found a lady in bed,
with a female attendant. I soon discovered
that the lady was in danger,
and that I could not save her. The
end of the story is, that a fine male
child was born, and the mother died.
I was blindfolded, led down the stairs,
and to the spot where I was blindfolded
at first; the bandage was removed,
and my conductor disappeared.
And that, I assure you, was the largest
fee I ever received.”

“Did you ever see the man again?”

“Never. I think I would know him
again, though, for I saw his face very
plainly for a moment. But I'll leave
you now to take a nap; be careful
about scratching your face, and you'll
do very well.”

And the doctor, accompanied by
Amelia, left.

I lay awake for a long while. Singular,
I thought, that three thousand
miles from the spot where it occurred,
I should find a witness of my birth.
And yet what could that matter? The
fact availed nothing. Looking at it in
its most favorable light, it did not
seem to throw a ray of light upon the
affair. The mystery was deeper than
before.