Macaria

by Augusta J. Evans

  MACARIA

  by

  AUGUSTA J. EVANS WILSON

  Author of"Beulah," "St. Elmo," "Infelice,"Etc., Etc.

  "Urging her to visit them as often as possible, Mr. Youngwithdrew." (_Chapter IX_) _Frontispiece_]

  Ward, Lock & Co., LimitedLondon and Melbourne1921

  CONTENTS

  CHAP. PAGE

  I RUSSELL AUBREY 5

  II IRENE'S FRIENDSHIP 13

  III THE MISSING WATCH 19

  IV ELECTRA'S DISCOVERY 28

  V IRENE IS SENT AWAY 35

  VI MASTER AND PUPIL 42

  VII NEW FRIENDS 49

  VIII A DISCOVERY 54

  IX AN ORPHAN'S PROTECTORS 66

  X IRENE'S COUSIN 70

  XI ANXIETY 77

  XII A SACRIFICE 83

  XIII WARNINGS 88

  XIV THE CLOSE OF THE VIGIL 94

  XV AT HOME AGAIN 99

  XVI THE LOAN REPAID 105

  XVII IRENE MEETS RUSSELL 111

  XVIII A REFUSAL 117

  XIX RUSSELL VISITS ELECTRA 124

  XX A CANDIDATE FOR THE LEGISLATURE 131

  XXI THE MINISTER'S LOVE 139

  XXII "COUSINLY--NO MORE" 143

  XXIII THE FEVER 152

  XXIV IRENE'S ILLNESS 162

  XXV RECONCILED 171

  XXVI CIVIL WAR 182

  XXVII HOSPITAL STORES 187

  XXVIII A CONFESSION 194

  XXIX A DYING MESSAGE 202

  XXX THE BLOCKADE RUNNER 211

  XXXI RESULTS OF SECESSION 221

  XXXII WOMANLY USEFULNESS 227

  XXXIII IN THE HOSPITAL 233

  XXXIV MORTALLY WOUNDED 240

  XXXV "THE SANCTIFIED DEVOTION AND FULL WORK" 252

  MACARIA

  CHAPTER I

  RUSSELL AUBREY

  The town-clock was on the last stroke of twelve, the solitary candlemeasured but two inches from its socket, and as the summer wind rushedthrough the half-closed shutters, the melted tallow dripped slowly into thebrightly-burnished brazen candlestick. The flickering light fell upon thepages of a ledger, and flashed fitfully in the face of the accountant, ashe bent over his work. Sixteen years growth had given him unusual heightand remarkable breadth of chest, and it was difficult to realize that thestature of manhood had been attained by a mere boy in years. A grey suit(evidently home-made), of rather coarse texture, bespoke poverty; and,owing to the oppressive heat of the atmosphere, the coat was thrownpartially off. He wore no vest, and the loosely-tied black ribbon sufferedthe snowy white collar to fall away from the throat and expose itswell-turned outline. The head was large, but faultlessly proportioned, andthe thick black hair, cut short and clinging to the temples, added to itsmassiveness. The lofty forehead, white and smooth, the somewhat heavy browsmatching the hue of the hair, the straight, finely-formed nose with itsdelicate but clearly defined nostril, the full firm lips unshaded bymoustache, combined to render the face one of uncommon beauty. Yet, as hesat absorbed by his figures, there was nothing prepossessing or winning inhis appearance, for though you could not carp at the moulding of hisfeatures, you involuntarily shrank from the prematurely grave, nay,austere expression which seemed habitual to them. He looked just what hewas, youthful in years, but old in trials and labours, and to one whoanalysed his countenance, the conviction was inevitable that his will wasgigantic, his ambition unbounded, his intellect wonderfully acute andpowerful.

  "Russell, do you know it is midnight?"

  He frowned, and answered without looking up--

  "Yes."

  "How much longer will you sit up?"

  "Till I finish my work."

  The speaker stood on the threshold, leaning against the door facing, and,after waiting a few moments, softly crossed the room and put her hand onthe back of his chair. She was two years his junior, and though evidentlythe victim of recent and severe illness, even in her feebleness she wassingularly like him. Her presence seemed to annoy him, for he turned roundand said hastily: "Electra, go to bed. I told you good-night three hoursago."

  She stood still, but silent.

  "What do you want?"

  "Nothing."

  He wrote on for some ten minutes longer, then closed the ledger and put itaside. The candle had burned low; he took a fresh one from the drawer ofthe table, and, after lighting it, drew a Latin dictionary near to him,opened a worn copy of Horace, and began to study. Quiet as his own shadowstood the fragile girl behind his chair, but as she watched him a heavysigh escaped her.

  "If I thought I should be weak and sickly all my life I would rather die atonce, and burden you and auntie no longer."

  "Electra, who told you that you burdened me?"

  "Oh, Russell! don't I know how hard you have to work; and how difficult itis for you to get even bread and clothes? Don't I see how auntie laboursday after day, and month after month? You are good and kind, but does thatprevent my feeling the truth, that you are working for me too? If I couldonly help you in some way." She knelt down by his chair and leaned her headon his knee, holding his hands between both hers.

  "Electra, you do help me; all day long when I am at the store your facehaunts, strengthens me; I feel that I am striving to give you comforts, andwhen at night you meet me at the gate, I am repaid for all I have done. Youmust put this idea out of your head, little one; it is altogether amistake. Do you hear what I say? Get up, and go to sleep like a good child,or you will have another wretched headache to-morrow, and can't bring me mylunch."

  He lifted her from the floor, and kissed her hastily. She raised her armsas if to wind them about his neck, but his grave face gave her noencouragement, and turning away she retired to her room, with hot tearsrolling over her cheeks. Russell had scarcely read half a dozen lines afterhis cousin's departure when a soft hand swept back the locks of hair on hisforehead, and wiped away the heavy drops that moistened them.

  "My son, you promised me you would not sit up late to-night."

  "Well, mother, I have almost finished. Remember the nights are very shortnow, and twelve o'clock comes early."

  "The better reason that you should not be up so late. My son, I am afraidyou will ruin your health by this unremitting application."

  "Why--look at me. I am as strong as an athlete of old." He shook his limbsand smiled, proud of his great physical strength.

  "True, Russell; but, robust as you are, you cannot stand such toil withoutdetriment. Put up your books."

  "Not yet; I have more laid out, and you know I invariably finish all I setapart to do. But, mother, your hand is hot; you are not well." He raisedthe thin hand, and pressed it to his lips.

  "A mere headache, nothing more. Mr. Clark was here to-day; he is veryimpatient about the rent. I told him we were doing all we could, andthought that by September w
e should be able to pay the whole." He knew shewatched him, and answered with a forced smile. "Yes, he came to the storethis morning. I told him we had been very unfortunate this year, thatsickness had forced us to incur more expense than usual. However, I drewfifty dollars, and paid him all I could. True, I anticipated my dues, butMr. Watson gave me permission. So for the present you need not worry aboutrent."

  "What is the amount of that grocery bill you would not let me see lastweek?"

  "My dear mother, do not trouble yourself with these little matters; thegrocery bill will very soon be paid. I have arranged with Mr. Hill to keephis books at night, and therefore, you may be easy. Trust all to me,mother; only take care of your dear self, and I ask no more."

  "Oh, Russell! my son, my dear son!"

  She had drawn a chair near him, and now laid her head on his shoulder,while tears dropped on his hand. He had not seen her so unnerved for years,and as he looked down on her grief-stained, yet resigned face, hiscountenance underwent a marvellous change; and, folding his arms about her,he kissed her pale, thin cheek repeatedly.

  "Mother, it is not like you to repine in this way; you who have sufferedand endured so much must not despond when, after a long, starless night,the day begins to dawn."

  "I fear 'it dawns in clouds, and heralds only storms.' For myself I carenot, but for you, Russell--my pride, my only hope, my brave boy? it is foryou that I suffer. I have been thinking to-night that this is a doomedplace for you, and that if we could only save money enough to go toCalifornia, you might take the position you merit; for there none wouldknow of the blight which fell upon you; none could look on your brow anddream it seemed sullied. Here you have such bitter prejudice to combat;such gross injustice heaped upon you."

  He lifted his mother's head from his bosom, and rose, with a haughty,defiant smile on his lip.

  "Not so; I will stay here, and live down their hate. Mark me, mother, Iwill live it down, so surely as I am Russell Aubrey, the despised son of a----! Go to California! not I! not I! In this state will I work andconquer; here, right here, I will plant my feet upon the necks of thosethat now strive to grind me to the dust. I swore it over my father'scoffin!"

  "Hush, Russell, you must subdue your fierce temper; you must! you must!Remember it was this ungovernable rage which brought disgrace upon youryoung, innocent head. Oh! it grieves me, my son, to see how bitter you havegrown. Once you were gentle and forgiving; now scorn and defiance ruleyou."

  "I am not fierce, I am not in a rage. If I should meet the judge and jurywho doomed my father to the gallows, I think I would serve them if theyneeded aid. But I am proud; I inherited my nature; I writhe, yes, mother,writhe under the treatment I constantly receive."

  "We have trouble enough, my son, without dwelling upon what is past andirremediable. So long as you seem cheerful I am content. I know that Godwill not lay more on me than I can bear; 'As my day so shall my strengthbe.' Thy will be done, oh! my God."

  There was a brief pause, and Russell Aubrey passed his hand over his eyes,and dashed off a tear. His mother watched him, and said cautiously--

  "Have you noticed that my eyes are rapidly growing worse?"

  "Yes, mother, I have been anxious for some weeks."

  "You know it all then?"

  "Yes, mother."

  "I shall not murmur; I have become resigned at last; though for many weeksI have wrestled for strength, for patience. It was so exceedingly bitter toknow that the time drew near when I should see you no more; to feel that Ishould stretch out my hands to you, and lean on you, and yet look no longeron the dear face of my child, my boy, my all. But my prayers were heard;the sting has passed away, and I am resigned. I am glad that we have spokenof it; now my mind is calmer, and I can sleep. Good night, my son."

  She pressed the customary good night kiss on his lips, and left him. Heclosed the dictionary, leaned his elbow on the table, and rested his headon his hand. His piercing black eyes were fixed gloomily on the floor, andnow and then his broad chest heaved as dark and painful thoughts crowdedup.

  Mrs. Aubrey was the only daughter of wealthy and ambitious parents, whorefused to sanction her marriage with the object of her choice; andthreatened to disinherit her if she persisted in her obstinate course. Mr.Aubrey was poor, but honest, highly cultivated and, in every sense of thatmuch abused word, a gentleman. His poverty was not to be forgiven, however,and when the daughter left her father's roof, and wedded the man whom herparents detested, she was banished for ever from a home of affluence, andfound that she had indeed forfeited her fortune. For this she was prepared,and bore it bravely; but ere long severer trials came upon her.Unfortunately, her husband's temper was fierce and ungovernable; andpecuniary embarrassments rarely have the effect of sweetening such. Heremoved to an inland town, and embarked in mercantile pursuits; butmisfortune followed him, and reverses came thick and fast. One miserableday, when from early morning everything had gone wrong, an importunatecreditor, of wealth and great influence in the community, chafed at Mr.Aubrey's tardiness in repaying some trifling sum, proceeded to taunt andinsult him most unwisely. Stung to madness, the wretched man resented theinsults; a struggle ensued, and at its close Mr. Aubrey stood over thecorpse of the creditor. There was no mode of escape, and the arm of the lawconsigned him to prison. During the tedious weeks that elapsed before thetrial his devoted wife strove to cheer and encourage him. Russell was abouteleven years of age, and, boy though he was, realized most fully thehorrors of his parent's situation. The days of his trial came at last; butthe accused had surrendered himself to the demon Rage, had taken the lifeof a fellow creature; what could legal skill accomplish? The affairproduced great and continued excitement; the murdered man had beenexceedingly popular, and the sympathies of the citizens were enlisted inbehalf of his family. Although clearly a case of manslaughter only, to theastonishment of the counsel on both sides, the cry of "blood for blood,"went out from that crowded court-room, and in defiance of precedent, Mr.Aubrey was unjustly sentenced to be hanged. When the verdict was known,Russell placed his insensible mother on a couch from which it seemedprobable she would never rise. But there is an astonishing amount ofendurance in even a feeble woman's frame, and after a time she went abouther house once more, doing her duty to her child and learning to "sufferand grow strong." Fate had ordained, however, that Russell's father shouldnot die upon the gallows; and soon after the verdict was pronounced, whenall Mrs. Aubrey's efforts to procure a pardon had proved unavailing, theproud and desperate man, in the solitude of his cell, with no eye butJehovah's to witness the awful deed, took his own life with the aid of alancet. Such was the legacy of shame which Russell inherited; was it anymarvel that at sixteen that boy had lived ages of sorrow? Mrs. Aubrey foundher husband's financial affairs so involved that she relinquished the hopeof retaining the little she possessed, and retired to a small cottage onthe outskirts of the town, where she endeavoured to support herself and thetwo dependent on her by taking in sewing. Electra Grey was the orphan childof Mr. Aubrey's only sister, who, dying in poverty, bequeathed the infantto her brother. He had loved her as well as his own Russell, and his wife,who cradled her in her arms and taught her to walk by clinging to herfinger, would almost as soon have parted with her son as the littleElectra. For five years the widow had toiled by midnight lamps to feedthese two; now oppressed nature rebelled, the long over-taxed eyes refusedto perform their office; filmy cataracts stole over them, veiling theirsadness and their unshed tears--blindness was creeping on. At his father'sdeath Russell was forced to quit school, and with some difficulty hesucceeded in obtaining a situation in a large dry-goods store, where hislabours were onerous in the extreme, and his wages a mere pittance. ThoughRussell's employer, Mr. Watson, shrank from committing a gross wrong, andprided himself on his scrupulous honesty, his narrow mind and penurioushabits strangled every generous impulse, and, without being absolutelycruel or unprincipled, he contrived to gall the boy's proud spirit andrender his position one of almost purgatorial severity. His eldest son wa
sjust Russell's age, had been sent to various schools from his infancy, wasindolent, self-indulgent, and thoroughly dissipated. Having been a secondtime expelled from school for most disgraceful misdemeanours, he loungedaway his time about the store, or passed it still more disreputably withreckless companions.

  The daily contrast presented by Cecil and Russell irritated the father, andhence his settled dislike of the latter. The faithful discharge of duty onthe part of the clerk afforded no plausible occasion for invective; he feltthat he was narrowly watched, and resolved to give no ground forfault-finding; yet during the long summer days, when the intense heatprevented customers from thronging the store, and there was nothing to bedone, when Russell, knowing that the books were written up and the countersfree from goods, took his Latin grammar and improved every leisurehalf-hour, he was not ignorant of the fact that an angry scowl darkened hisemployer's visage, and understood why he was constantly interrupted toperform most unnecessary labours. What the day denied him he reclaimed fromnight, and succeeded in acquiring a tolerable knowledge of Greek, besidesreading several Latin books. Finding that his small salary was inadequate,now that his mother's failing sight prevented her from accomplishing theusual amount of sewing, he solicited and obtained permission to keep anadditional set of books for the grocer who furnished his family withprovisions, though by this arrangement few hours remained for necessarysleep. The protracted illness and death of an aged and faithful servant,together with Electra's tedious sickness, bringing the extra expense ofmedical aid, had prevented the prompt payment of rent due for thethree-roomed cottage, and Russell was compelled to ask for a portion of hissalary in advance. His mother little dreamed of the struggle which tookplace in his heart ere he could force himself to make the request, and hecarefully concealed from her the fact that at the moment of receiving themoney, he laid in Mr. Watson's hands, by way of pawn, the only article ofany value which he possessed--the watch his father had always worn, andwhich the coroner took from the vest pocket of the dead, dabbled withblood. The gold chain had been sold long before, and the son wore itattached to a simple black ribbon. His employer received the watch, lockedit in the iron safe, and Russell fastened a small weight to the ribbon, andkept it around his neck that his mother might not suspect the truth. Itchanced that Cecil stood near at the time; he saw the watch deposited inthe safe, whistled a tune, fingered his own gold repeater, and walked away.Such was Russell Aubrey's history; such his situation at the beginning ofhis seventeenth year.