Ormond; Or, The Secret Witness. Volume 2 (of 3)

by Charles Brockden Brown

  CHAPTER V.

  When once the subject had been introduced, Helena was prone to descantupon her own situation, and listened with deference to the remarks andadmonitions of her companion. Constantia did not conceal from her any ofher sentiments. She enabled her to view her own condition in its truelight, and set before her the indispensable advantages of marriage,while she, at the same time, afforded her the best directions as to theconduct she ought to pursue in order to effect her purpose.

  The mind of Helena was thus kept in a state of perpetual and uneasyfluctuation. While absent from Ormond, or listening to her friend'sremonstrances, the deplorableness of her condition arose in its mostdisastrous hues before her imagination. But the spectre seldom failedto vanish at the approach of Ormond. His voice dissipated everyinquietude.

  She was not insensible of this inconstancy. She perceived and lamentedher own weakness. She was destitute of all confidence in her ownexertions. She could not be in the perpetual enjoyment of his company.Her intervals of tranquillity, therefore, were short, while those ofanxiety and dejection were insupportably tedious. She revered, butbelieved herself incapable to emulate the magnanimity of her monitor.The consciousness of inferiority, especially in a case like this, inwhich her happiness so much depended on her own exertions, excited inher the most humiliating sensations.

  While indulging in fruitless melancholy, the thought one day occurred toher, why may not Constantia be prevailed upon to plead my cause? Hercapacity and courage are equal to any undertaking. The reasonings thatare so powerful in my eyes, would they he trivial and futile in those ofOrmond? I cannot have a more pathetic and disinterested advocate.

  This idea was cherished with uncommon ardour. She seized the firstopportunity that offered itself to impart it to her friend. It was awild and singular proposal, and was rejected at the first glance. Thisscheme, so romantic and impracticable as it at first seemed, appeared toHelena in the most plausible colours. She could not bear to relinquishher new-born hopes. She saw no valid objection to it. Every thing waseasy to her friend, provided her sense of duty and her zeal could beawakened. The subject was frequently suggested to Constantia'sreflections. Perceiving the sanguineness of her friend's confidence, andfully impressed with the value of the end to be accomplished, sheinsensibly veered to the same opinion. At least the scheme was worthyof a candid discussion before it was rejected.

  Ormond was a stranger to her. His manners were repulsive and austere.She was a mere girl. Her personal attachment to Helena was all that shecould plead in excuse for taking part in her concerns. The subject wasdelicate. A blunt and irregular character like Ormond might throw an airof ridicule over the scene. She shrunk from the encounter of aboisterous and manlike spirit.

  But were not these scruples effeminate and puerile? Had she studied solong in the school of adversity, without conviction of the duty of avirtuous independence? Was she not a rational being, fully imbued withthe justice of her cause? Was it not ignoble to refuse the province of avindicator of the injured, before any tribunal, however tremendous orunjust? And who was Ormond, that his eye should inspire terror?

  The father or brother of Helena might assume the office withoutindecorum. Nay, a mother or sister might not be debarred from it. Whythen should she, who was actuated by equal zeal, and was engaged, byties stronger than consanguinity, in the promotion of her friend'shappiness. It is true she did not view the subject in the light in whichit was commonly viewed by brothers and parents. It was not a gust ofrage that should transport her into his presence. She did not go toawaken his slumbering conscience, and to abash him in the pride ofguilty triumph, but to rectify deliberate errors, and to change hiscourse by the change of his principles. It was her business to point outto him the road of duty and happiness, from which he had strayed with nosinister intentions. This was to be done without raving and fury; butwith amicable soberness, and in the way of calm and rationalremonstrance. Yet, there were scruples that would not be shut out, andcontinually whispered to her, "What an office is this for a girl and astranger to assume!"

  In what manner should it be performed? Should an interview be sought,and her ideas be explained without confusion or faltering, undismayed byludicrous airs or insolent frowns. But this was a point to be examined.Was Ormond capable of such behaviour? If he were, it would be useless toattempt the reformation of his errors. Such a man is incurable andobdurate. Such a man is not to be sought as the husband of Helena; butthis, surely, is a different being.

  The medium through which she had viewed his character was an ample one,but might not be very accurate. The treatment which Helena had receivedfrom him, exclusive of his fundamental error, betokened a mind to whichshe did not disdain to be allied. In spite of his defects, she saw thattheir elements were more congenial, and the points of contact betweenthis person and herself more numerous than between her and Helena, whosevoluptuous sweetness of temper, and mediocrity of understanding excitedin her bosom no genuine sympathy.

  Every thing is progressive in the human mind. When there is leisure toreflect, ideas will succeed each other in a long train, before theultimate point be gained. The attention must shift from one side to theother of a given question many times before it settles. Constantia didnot form her resolutions in haste; but when once formed, they wereexempt from fluctuation. She reflected before she acted, and thereforeacted with consistency and vigour. She did not apprize her friend of herintention. She was willing that she should benefit by her interposition,before she knew it was employed.

  She sent her Lucy with a note to Ormond's house. It was couched in theseterms:--

  "Constantia Dudley requests an interview with Mr. Ormond. Her business being of some moment, she wishes him to name an hour when most disengaged."

  An answer was immediately returned that at three o'clock, in theafternoon, he should be glad to see her.

  This message produced no small surprise in Ormond. He had not withdrawnhis notice from Constantia, and had marked, with curiosity andapprobation, the progress of the connexion between the two women. Theimpressions which he had received from the report of Helena were notdissimilar to those which Constantia had imbibed, from the same quarter,respecting himself; but he gathered from them no suspicion of thepurpose of a visit. He recollected his connection with Craig. This ladyhad had an opportunity of knowing that some connection subsisted betweenthem. He concluded that some information or inquiry respecting Craigmight occasion this event. As it was, it gave him considerablesatisfaction. It would enable him more closely to examine one, withrespect to whom he entertained great curiosity.

  Ormond's conjecture was partly right. Constantia did not forget herhaving traced Craig to this habitation. She designed to profit by theoccasion which this circumstance afforded her, of making some inquiryrespecting Craig, in order to introduce, by suitable degrees, a moreimportant subject.

  The appointed hour having arrived, he received her in his drawing-room.He knew what was due to his guest. He loved to mortify, by hisnegligence, the pride of his equals and superiors, but a lower class hadnothing to fear from his insolence. Constantia took the seat that wasoffered to her, without speaking. She had made suitable preparations forthis interview, and her composure was invincible. The manners of herhost were by no means calculated to disconcert her. His air wasconciliating and attentive.

  She began with naming Craig, as one known to Ormond, and desired to beinformed of his place of abode. She was proceeding to apologise for thisrequest, by explaining, in general terms, that her father's infirmitiesprevented him from acting for himself, that Craig was his debtor to alarge amount, that he stood in need of all that justly belonged to him,and was in pursuit of some means of tracing Craig to his retreat. Ormondinterrupted her, examining, at the same time, with a vigilance somewhattoo unsparing, the effects which his words should produce upon her:--

  "You may spare yourself the trouble of explaining. I am acquainted withthe whole affair between Craig and your family. He has concealed from menothing. I
know _all_ that has passed between you."

  In saying this, Ormond intended that his looks and emphasis shouldconvey his full meaning. In the style of her comments he saw none ofthose corroborating symptoms that he expected:--

  "Indeed! He has been very liberal of his confidence. Confession is atoken of penitence; but, alas! I fear he has deceived you. To be sincerewas doubtless his true interest, but he is too much in the habit ofjudging superficially. If he has told you all, there is, indeed, no needof explanation. This visit is, in that case, sufficiently accounted for.Is it in your power, Sir, to inform us whither he has gone?"

  "For what end should I tell you? I promise you you will not follow him.Take my word for it, he is totally unworthy of you. Let the past be noprecedent for the future. If you have not made that discovery yourself,I have made it for you. I expect at least to be thanked for my trouble."

  This speech was unintelligible to Constantia. Her looks betokened aperplexity unmingled with fear or shame.

  "It is my way," continued he, "to say what I think. I care little forconsequences. I have said that I know _all_. This will excuse me forbeing perfectly explicit. That I am mistaken is very possible; but I aminclined to place that matter beyond the reach of a doubt. Listen to me,and confirm me in the opinion I have already formed of your good sense,by viewing, in a just light, the unreservedness with which you aretreated. I have something to tell, which, if you are wise, you will notbe offended at my telling so roundly. On the contrary you will thank me,and perceive that my conduct is a proof of my respect for you. Theperson whom you met here is named Craig, but, as he tells me, is not theman you look for. This man's brother--the partner, of your father, and,as he assured me, your own accepted and illicitly-gratified lover--isdead."

  These words were uttered without any extenuating hesitation ordepression of tone. On the contrary, the most offensive terms were drawnout in the most deliberate and emphatic manner. Constantia's cheeksglowed, and her eyes sparkled with indignation, but she forbore tointerrupt. The looks with which she listened to the remainder of thespeech showed that she fully comprehended the scene, and enabled him tocomprehend it. He proceeded:--

  "This man is a brother of that. Their resemblance in figure occasionedyour mistake. Your father's debtor died, it seems, on his arrival atJamaica. There he met with this brother, and bequeathed to him hisproperty and papers. Some of these papers are in my possession. They areletters from Constantia Dudley, and are parts of an intrigue, which,considering the character of the man, was not much to her honour. Suchwas this man's narrative told to me some time before your meeting withhim at his house. I have right to judge in this affair; that is, I havea right to my opinion. If I mistake, (and I half suspect myself,) youare able, perhaps, to rectify my error; and in a case like thisdoubtless you will not want the inclination."

  Perhaps if the countenance of this man had not been characterized by thekeenest intelligence, and a sort of careless and overflowing good-will,this speech might have produced different effects. She was prepared,though imperfectly, for entering into his character. He waited for ananswer, which she gave without emotion:--

  "You were deceived. I am sorry for your own sake that you are. He musthave had some end in view, in imposing these falsehoods upon you, whichperhaps they have enabled him to accomplish. As to myself, this man cando me no injury. I willingly make you my judge. The letters you speak ofwill alone suffice to my vindication. They never were received from me,and are forgeries. That man always persisted till he made himself thedupe of his own artifices. That incident in his plot, on theintroduction of which he probably the most applauded himself, will mostpowerfully operate to defeat it.

  "Those letters never were received from me, and are forgeries. His skillin imitation extended no farther in the present case than myhandwriting. My model of thinking and expression were beyond the reachof his mimicry."

  When she had finished, Osmond spent a moment in ruminating. "I perceiveyou are right," said he. "I suppose he has purloined from me two hundredguineas, which I entrusted to his fidelity. And yet I received a letter;but that may likewise be a forgery. By my soul," continued he, in a tonethat had more of satisfaction than disappointment in it, "this fellowwas an adept at his trade. I do not repine. I have bought theexhibition at a cheap rate. The pains that he took did not merit a lessrecompense. I am glad that he was contented with so little. Had hepersisted he might have raised the price far above its value. 'Twill belamentable if he receive more than he stipulated for,--if, in his lastpurchase, the gallows should be thrown into the bargain. May he have thewisdom to see that a halter, though not included in his terms, is only anew instance of his good fortune! But his cunning will hardly carry himthus far. His stupidity will, no doubt, prefer a lingering to a suddenexit.

  "But this man and his destiny are trifles. Let us leave them tothemselves. Your name is Constantia. 'Twas given you, I suppose, thatyou might be known by it. Pr'ythee, Constantia was this the only purposethat brought you hither? If it were, it has received as ample adiscussion as it merits. You _came_ for this end, but will remain, Ihope, for a better one. Haying dismissed Craig and his plots, let us nowtalk of each other."

  "I confess," said the lady, with an hesitation she could not subdue,"this was not my only purpose. One much more important has produced thisvisit."

  "Indeed! pray let me know it. I am glad that so trivial an object asCraig did not occupy the first place in your thoughts. Proceed, Ibeseech you."

  "It is a subject on which I cannot enter without hesitation,--ahesitation unworthy of me."

  "Stop," cried Ormond, rising and touching the bell; "nothing like timeto make a conquest of embarrassment. We will defer this conference sixminutes, just while we eat our dinner."

  At the same moment a servant entered, with two plates and the usualapparatus for dinner. On seeing this she rose, in some hurry, todepart:--"I thought, sir, you were disengaged? I call at some otherhour."

  He seized her hand, and held her from going, but with an air by no meansdisrespectful. "Nay," said he, "what is it that scares you away? Are youterrified at the mention of victuals? You must have fasted long when itcomes to that. I told you true. I am disengaged, but not from theobligation of eating and drinking. No doubt _you_ have dined. No reasonwhy _I_ should go without my dinner. If you do not choose to partakewith me, so much the better. Your temperance ought to dispense with twomeals in an hour. Be a looker-on; or, if that will not do, retire intomy library, where in six minutes, I will be with you, and lend you myaid in the arduous task of telling me what you came with an intention oftelling."

  This singular address disconcerted and abashed her. She was contented tofollow the servant silently into an adjoining apartment. Here shereflected with no small surprise on the behaviour of this man. Thoughruffled, she was not heartily displeased with it. She had scarcely timeto collect herself, when he entered. He immediately seated her, andhimself opposite to her. He fixed his eyes without scruple on her face.His gaze was steadfast, but not insolent or oppressive. He surveyed herwith the looks with which he would have eyed a charming portrait. Hisattention was occupied with what he saw, as that of an artist isoccupied when viewing a madonna of Rafaello. At length he brokesilence:--

  "At dinner I was busy in thinking what it was you had to disclose. Iwill not fatigue you with my guesses. They would he impertinent, as longas the truth is going to be disclosed." He paused, and thencontinued:--"But I see you cannot dispense with my aid. Perhaps yourbusiness relates to Helena. She has done wrong, and you wish me torebuke the girl."

  Constantia profited by this opening, and said, "Yes, she has done wrong.It is true my business relates to her. I came hither as a suppliant inher behalf. Will you not assist her in recovering the path from whichshe has deviated? She left it from confiding more in the judgement ofher guide than her own. There is one method of repairing the evil. Itlies with you to repair that evil."

  During this address the gaiety of Ormond disappeared. He fixed his eyeson Constantia
with new and even pathetic earnestness. "I guessed asmuch," said he. I have often been deceived in my judgement ofcharacters. Perhaps I do not comprehend yours. Yet it is not little thatI have heard respecting you. Something I have seen. I begin to suspect amaterial error in my theory of human nature. Happy will it be for Helenaif my suspicions be groundless.

  "You are Helena's friend. Be mine also, and advise me. Shall I marrythis girl or not? You know on what terms we live. Are they suitable toour respective characters? Shall I wed this girl, or shall things remainas they are?

  "I have an irreconcilable aversion to a sad brow and a sick bed. Helenais grieved, because her neighbours sneer and point at her. So far she isa fool; but that is a folly of which she never will be cured. Marriage,it seems, will set all right. Answer me, Constantia, shall I marry?"

  There was something in the tone, but more in the tenor of this addressthat startled her. There was nothing in this man but what came upon herunaware. This sudden effusion of confidence was particularly unexpectedand embarrassing. She scarcely knew whether to regard it as serious or ajest. On observing her indisposed to speak, he continued:--

  "Away with these impertinent circuities and scruples. I know yourmeaning. Why should I pretend ignorance, and put you to the trouble ofexplanation? You came hither with no other view than to exact thisquestion, and furnish an answer. Why should not we come at once to thepoint? I have for some time been dubious on this head. There issomething wanting to determine the balance. If you have that something,throw it into the proper scale.

  "You err if you think this manner of addressing you is wild or improper.This girl is the subject of discourse. If she was not to be so, why didyou favour me with this visit? You have sought me, and introducedyourself. I have, in like manner, overlooked ordinary forms,--anegligence that has been systematic with me, but, in the present case,particularly justifiable by your example. Shame upon you, presumptuousgirl, to suppose yourself the only rational being among mankind. Andyet, if you thought so, why did you thus unceremoniously intrude upon myretirements? This act is of a piece with the rest. It shows you to beone whose existence I did not believe possible.

  "Take care. You know not what you have done. You came hither as Helena'sfriend. Perhaps time may show that in this visit you have performed thebehest of her bitterest enemy. But that is out of season. This girl isour mutual property. You are her friend; I am her lover. Her happinessis precious in my eyes and in yours. To the rest of mankind she is anoisome weed that cannot be shunned too cautiously, nor trampled on toomuch. If we forsake her, infamy, that is now kept at bay, will seizeupon her, and, while it mangles her form, will tear from her herinnocence. She has no arms with which to contend against that foe.Marriage will place her at once in security. Shall it be? You have anexact knowledge of her strength and her weakness. Of me you know little.Perhaps, before that question can be satisfactorily answered, it isrequisite to know the qualities of her husband. Be my characterhenceforth the subject of your study. I will furnish you with all thelight in my power. Be not hasty in deciding; but, when your decision isformed, let me know it." He waited for an answer, which she, at length,summoned resolution enough to give:--

  "You have come to the chief point which I had in view in making thisvisit. To say truth, I came hither to remonstrate with you onwithholding that which Helena may justly claim from you. Her happinesswill be unquestionably restored, and increased by it. Yours will not beimpaired. Matrimony will not produce any essential change in yoursituation. It will produce no greater or different intercourse than nowexists. Helena is on the brink of a gulf which I shudder to look upon.I believe that you will not injure yourself by snatching her from it. Iam sure that you will confer an inexpressible benefit upon her. Let methen persuade you to do her and yourself justice."

  "No persuasion," said Ormond, after recovering from a fit ofthoughtfulness, "is needful for this end: I only want to be convinced.You have decided, but, I fear hastily. By what inscrutable influencesare our steps guided! Come, proceed in your exhortations. Argue with theutmost clearness and cogency. Arm yourself with all the irresistibles ofeloquence. Yet you are building nothing. You are only demolishing. Yourargument is one thing. Its tendency is another; and is the reverse ofall you expect and desire. My assent will be refused with an obstinacyproportioned to the force that you exert to obtain it, and to the justapplication of that force."

  "I see," replied the lady, smiling and leaving her seat, "you can talkin riddles, as well as other people. This visit has been too long. Ishall, indeed, be sorry, if my interference, instead of serving myfriend, has injured her. I have acted an uncommon, and, as it may seem,an ambiguous part. I shall be contented with construing my motives in myown way. I wish you a good evening."

  "'Tis false," cried he, sternly, "you do not wish it!"

  "How?" exclaimed the astonished Constantia.

  "I will put your sincerity to the test. Allow me to spend this eveningin your company; then it will be well spent, and I shall believe yourwishes sincere. Else," continued he, changing his affected austerityinto a smile, "Constantia is a liar."

  "You are a singular man. I hardly know how to understand you."

  "Well. Words are made to carry meanings. You shall have them inabundance. Your house is your citadel. I will not enter it withoutleave. Permit me to visit it when I please. But that is too much. It ismore than I would allow you. When will you permit me to visit you?"

  "I cannot answer when I do not understand. You clothe your thoughts in agarb so uncouth, that I know not in what light they are to be viewed."

  "Well, now, I thought you understood my language, and were anEnglishwoman, but I will use another. Shall I have the honour" (bowingwith a courtly air of supplication) "of occasionally paying my respectsto you at your own dwelling? It would be cruel to condemn those who havethe happiness of knowing Miss Dudley, to fashionable restraints. At whathour will she be least incommoded by a visitant?"

  "I am as little pleased with formalities," replied the lady, "as youare. My friends I cannot see too often. They need to consult merelytheir own convenience. Those who are not my friends I cannot see tooseldom. You have only to establish your title to that name, and yourwelcome at all times is sure. Till then you must not look for it."