Macaria

by Augusta J. Evans

  CHAPTER XXII

  "COUSINLY--NO MORE"

  Says D'Alembert: "The industry of men is now so far exhausted in canvassingfor places, that none is left for fulfilling the duties of them;" and thehistory of our government furnishes a melancholy parallel. The regularquadrennial storm had swept over the nation; caucuses had been held andplatforms fiercely fought for, to be kicked away, plank by plank, when theyno longer served as scaffolding by which to climb to office. Buchanan waselected, but destined to exemplify, during his administration, the truth ofTacitus' words: "He was regarded as greater than a private man whilst heremained in privacy, and would have been deemed worthy of governing if hehad never governed." The heat of the canvass cooled, people settled downonce more to a condition of lethargic indifference--bought and sold, sowedand reaped, as usual--little realizing that the temporary lull, the perfectcalm, was treacherous as the glassy green expanse of waters which, it issaid, sometimes covers the location of the all-destroying maelstrom ofMoskoe. Having taken an active and prominent part in the presidentialcampaign, and made frequent speeches, Russell found himself again opposedby Mr. Huntingdon, who was equally indefatigable during the excitingcontest. The old feud received, if possible, additional acrimony, and therewere no bounds to the maledictions heaped upon the young and imperturbablelegislator by his virulent antagonist. Many predicted a duel or a streetencounter; but weeks passed, and though, in casual meetings, Mr.Huntingdon's glare of hate was always answered by a mocking smile of colddisdain, the cloud floated off without breaking into bloody showers.

  Mr. Mitchell's health had failed so rapidly as winter approached, that Dr.Arnold persuaded him to try the efficacy of a sea-voyage, and he hadaccordingly sailed from New Orleans in a vessel bound for Genoa. Irenebegged the privilege of accompanying him, but her father peremptorilyrefused; and she saw her uncle depart, and superintended the closing of hishouse, with silent sorrow, and the feeling of one who knows that the nightis deepening around her.

  Late in the afternoon of Christmas Day Irene went into the greenhouse togather a bouquet for an invalid friend in town, and had almost accomplishedher errand when the crash and whir of wheels drew her to the window thatlooked out on the lawn. Her father had gone to the plantation early thatmorning, and she had scarcely time to conjecture whom the visitor wouldprove, when Hugh's loud voice rang through the house, and, soon after, hecame clattering in, with the end of his pantaloons tucked into his boots,and his whip trailing along in true boyish fashion. As he threw down hishat, scattering the petals of a snowy camellia, and drew near his cousin,she saw that his face was deeply flushed, and his eyes somewhat bloodshot.

  "Hugh! what are you doing here? Father expected you to overtake him atCrescent Bend; you said last night that you would start by five o'clock."

  "Merry Christmas, my beauty! I have come for my Christmas gift. Give it tome, like the queen you are."

  He stooped as if to kiss her, but she shrank back instantly, and saidgravely--

  "You ought not to make promises which you have no idea of keeping; fatherwill be annoyed, and wonder very much what has happened. He was anxiousthat you should go with him."

  "Oh! confound the plantation! I wish it would sink! Of all other days nonebut Christmas will suit him to tramp down there through mud and mire. Thefact is, I did not go to sleep till four o'clock, and nobody ought to beunchristian enough to expect me to wake up in an hour. You may be quiet,though, for I am on my way now to that paradise of black mud. I onlystopped to get a glimpse of you, my Sappho! my Corinna! so don't homilize,I pray you."

  "Better wait till daylight, Hugh; you know the state of the roads andcondition of the bridges. It will be safer, and an economy of time, todefer it till morning, since you have made it so late."

  "No; I must go to-night, for I have an engagement to ride with MariaHenderson, and I can't get back in time if I wait till to-morrow morning. Iwant to start back day after to-morrow. As for time, Wildfire will make itthe better for the darkness, he is as much afraid of night and shadows asif he had a conscience, and had maltreated it, master-like. I shallconvince him that all Tam O'Shanter's witches are in full pursuit, and hismatchless heels his only salvation."

  A shade of apprehension settled on her face, and, placing the bouquet in abasket, she turned to her cousin, saying--

  "Indeed, you cannot be insane enough to drive that horse such a night asthis weather threatens. If go you will, in the face of a coming rain, leaveWildfire here, and drive one of the carriage-horses instead. I shall beuneasy if you start with that vicious, unmanageable incarnation oflightning. Let me ring the bell and direct Andrew to make the change."

  She stepped into the parlour adjoining, and laid her fingers on thebell-cord, but he snatched up the hand and kissed it several times.

  "No! I'll be hanged if I don't drive my own pearl of Arabia! I can managehim well enough; and, beside, what do you care whether he breaks my neck ornot? Without compunction you broke my heart, which is much the greatercatastrophe."

  "Come into the library; you don't know what you are saying."

  She drew him into the room, where a warm fire burned cheerfully, and madehim sit down.

  "Where did you go last night when you left here? Tell me."

  "To Harry Neal's; a party of us were invited there to drink egg-nog, and,of course, found something stronger afterward. Then we had a game or so ofpoker, and ----, the grand finale is that I have had a deuced headache allday. Ah, my sweet saint! how shocked you are, to be sure! Now, don'tlecture, or I shall be off like a flash."

  Without answering, she rang the bell and quietly looped back the heavycrimson curtains.

  "What is that for? Have you sent for John or old Nellie to carry meupstairs, like other bad boys sent to bed in disgrace without even the coldcomfort of supper?"

  "Hush, Hugh! hush."

  Turning to John, who opened the door and looked in, she said--

  "Tell William to make some strong coffee as soon as possible. Mas' Hugh hasa headache, and wants some before he leaves."

  "Thank you, my angel! my unapproachable Peri! Ugh! how cold it is. Pardonme, but I really must warm my feet."

  He threw them carelessly on the fender of the grate.

  "Shall I get you a pair of slippers?"

  "Could not afford the luxury; positively have not the time to indulgemyself."

  With a prolonged yawn he laid his head back and closed his eyes. Anexpression of disgust was discernible in his companion's countenance, butit passed like the shadow of a summer cloud, and she sat down at theopposite side of the fireplace, with her eyes bent upon the hearth, and thelong silky lashes sweeping her cheeks. A silence of some minutes ensued;finally she exclaimed--

  "Here comes your coffee. Put the waiter on the table, John, and tell Andrewto take Mas' Hugh's buggy."

  "Do nothing of the kind! but send somebody to open that everlasting gate,which would not have disgraced ancient Thebes. Are you classical, John? Beoff, and see about it; I must start in five minutes."

  "Hugh, be reasonable for once in your life; you are not in a propercondition to drive that horse. For my sake, at least, be persuaded to waittill morning. Will you not remain, to oblige me?"

  "Oh, hang my condition! I tell you I must and I will go, if all the starsfall and judgment day overtakes me on the road. What splendid coffee youalways have! The most fastidious of bashaws could not find it in hisMoorish heart to complain."

  He put on his hat, buttoned his costly fur coat, and, flourishing his whip,came close to his cousin.

  "Good-bye, beauty. I hate to leave you; upon my word I do; but duty beforepleasure, my heavenly-eyed monitress. I have not had my Christmas presentyet, and have it I will."

  "On one condition, Hugh; that you drive cautiously and moderately, insteadof thundering down hills and over bridges like some express train behindtime. Will you promise?"

  "To be sure I will! everything in the world; and am ready to swear it, ifyou are sceptical."

  "Well, then,
good-bye, Hugh, and take care of yourself."

  She allowed him to press his hot lips to hers, and, accompanying him to thedoor, saw him jump into the frail open-topped buggy. Wildfire plunged andsprang off in his usual style, and, with a crack of the whip and wave ofhis hat, Hugh was fairly started.

  Seven hours later Irene sat alone at the library table, absorbed in writingan article on Laplace's Nebular Theory for the scientific journal to whichshe occasionally contributed over the signature of "Sabaean." Gradually herthoughts wandered from the completed task to other themes of scarcely lessinterest. The week previous she had accompanied Hugh to an operatic concertgiven by the Parodi troupe, and had been astonished to find Russell seatedon the bench in front of her. He so rarely showed himself on such occasionsthat his appearance elicited some comment. They had met frequently sincethe evening at Mr. Mitchell's, but he pertinaciously avoided recognizingher; and, on this particular night, though he came during an interlude tospeak to Grace Harris, who sat on the same row of seats with Irene, henever once directed his eyes toward the latter. This studied neglect, shefelt assured, was not the result of the bitter animosity existing betweenher father and himself; and though it puzzled her for a while, she beganfinally to suspect the true nature of his feelings, and, with woman'srarely erring instincts, laid her finger on the real motive which promptedhim. The report of his engagement to Grace had reached her some daysbefore, and now it recurred to her mind like a haunting spectre. She didnot believe for an instant that he was attached to the pretty, joyous girlwhom rumour gave him; but she was well aware that he was ambitious of highsocial position, and feared that he might possibly, from selfish, ignoblereasons, seek an alliance with Judge Harris' only daughter, knowing thatthe family was one of the wealthiest and most aristocratic in the State.Life had seemed dreary enough before; but, with this apprehension added, itappeared insupportable, and she was conscious of a degree of wretchednessnever dreamed of or realized heretofore. Not even a sigh escaped her; shewas one of a few women who permit no external evidences of suffering, butlock it securely in their own proud hearts. The painful reverie might,perhaps, have lasted till the pallid dawn looked in with tearful eyes atthe window, but Paragon, who was sleeping on the rug at her feet, startedup and growled. She raised her head and listened, but only the ticking ofthe clock was audible, and the wailing of the wind through the leaflesspoplars.

  "Down, Paragon! hush, sir!"

  She patted his head soothingly, and he sank back a few seconds in quiet,then sprang up with a loud bark. This time she heard an indistinct sound ofsteps in the hall, and thought: "Nellie sees my light through the window,and is coming to coax me upstairs." Something stumbled near the threshold,a hand struck the knob as if in hunting for it, the door opened softly,and, muffled in his heavy cloak, holding his hat in one hand, RussellAubrey stood in the room. Neither spoke, but he looked at her with suchmournful earnestness, such eager yet grieved compassion, that she read someterrible disaster in his eyes. The years of estrangement, all that hadpassed since their childhood, was forgotten; studied conventionalities fellaway at the sight of him standing there, for the first time, in her home.She crossed the room with a quick, uncertain step, and put out her handstoward him--vague, horrible apprehension blanching the beautiful lips,which asked shiveringly--

  "What is it, Russell? What is it?"

  He took the cold little hands tremblingly in his, and endeavoured to drawher back to the hearth, but she repeated--

  "What has happened? Is it father, or Hugh?"

  "Your father is well, I believe; I passed him on the road yesterday. Sitdown, Miss Huntingdon; you look pale and faint."

  Her fingers closed tightly over his; he saw an ashen hue settle on herface, and in an unnaturally calm low tone, she asked--

  "Is Hugh dead? Oh, my God! why don't you speak, Russell?"

  "He did not suffer much; his death was too sudden."

  Her face had such a stony look that he would have passed his arm aroundher, but could not disengage his hand; she seemed to cling to it as if forstrength.

  "Won't you let me carry you to your room, or call a servant? You are notable to stand."

  She neither heeded nor heard him.

  "Was it that horse; or how was it?"

  "One of the bridges had been swept away by the freshet, and, in trying tocross, he missed the ford. The horse must have been frightened andunmanageable, the buggy was overturned in the creek, and your cousin,stunned by the fall, drowned instantly; life was just extinct when Ireached him."

  Something like a moan escaped her as she listened.

  "Was anything done?"

  "We tried every means of resuscitation, but they were entirelyineffectual."

  She relaxed her clasp of his fingers, and moved toward the door.

  "Where are you going, Miss Huntingdon? Indeed, you must sit down."

  "Russell, you have brought him home; where is he?"

  Without waiting for an answer, she walked down the hall, and pausedsuddenly at the sight of the still form resting on a greytravelling-blanket, with a lantern at its head, and an elderly man, astranger, sitting near, keeping watch. Russell came to her side, and,drawing his arm around her, made her lean upon him. He felt the long, longlingering shudder which shook the elegant, queenly figure; then she slippeddown beside the rigid sleeper, and smoothed back from the fair brow thedripping, curling, auburn hair.

  "Hugh, my cousin! my playmate! Snatched away in an hour from the life youloved so well. Ah! the curse of our house has fallen upon you. It is butthe beginning of the end. Only two of us are left, and we, too, shall soonbe caught up to join you."

  She kissed the icy lips which a few hours ago had pressed hers so warmly,and, rising, walked up and down the long hall. Russell once more approachedher.

  "Are you entirely alone?"

  "Yes, except the servants. Oh, Russell! how am I to break this to myfather? He loves that boy better than everything else; infinitely betterthan he ever loved me. How shall I tell him that Hugh is dead--dead?"

  "A messenger has already gone to inform him of what has happened, and thisdistressing task will not be yours. Herbert Blackwell and I were ridingtogether, on our return from T----, when we reached the ford where thedisaster occurred. Finding that all our efforts to resuscitate wereuseless, he turned back, and went to your father's plantation to break thesad intelligence to him."

  His soothing, tender tone touched some chord deep in her strange nature,and unshed tears gathered for the first time in her eyes.

  "As you have no friend near enough to call upon at present, I will, if youdesire it, wake the servants, remain, and do all that is necessary untilmorning."

  "If you please, Russell; I shall thank you very much."

  As her glance fell upon her cousin's gleaming face, her lip fluttered, andshe turned away and sat down on one of the sofas in the parlour, droppingher face in her hands. A little while after, the light of a candle streamedin, and Russell came with a cushion from the library lounge, and his warmcloak. He wrapped the latter carefully about the drooping form, and wouldhave placed her head on the silken pillow; but she silently resistedwithout looking up, and he left her. It was a vigil which she never forgot.

  The fire had died out entirely, the curtains were drawn back to let in theday; on the library table the startling glare of white linen showed theoutlines of the cold young sleeper, and Russell slowly paced the floor, hisarms crossed, as was their habit, and his powerful form unweariedly erect.She stood by the table half-irresolute, then folded down the sheet, andexposed the handsome, untroubled face. She studied it long and quietly, andwith no burst of emotion laid her flowers against his cheek and mouth, andscattered the geraniums over his pulseless heart.

  "I begged him not to start yesterday, and he answered that he would go, ifthe stars fell and judgment day overtook him. Sometimes we are prophetsunawares. His star has set--his day has risen! Have mercy on his soul! oh,my God!"

  The voice was low and even, but wonderfully s
weet, and in the solemnmorning light her face showed itself grey and bloodless; no stain of colouron the still lips, only the blue cord standing out between the brow, suresigns of a deep distress which found no vent. Russell felt a crushingweight lifted from his heart; he saw that she had "loved her cousincousinly--no more"; and his face flushed when she looked across the tableat him, with grateful but indescribably melancholy eyes, which had neverbeen closed during that night of horror.

  "I must now relieve you, Russell, from your friendly watch. Few would haveacted as you have done, and for all your generous kindness to poor Hugh Ithank you most earnestly as well for my father as myself. The day may come,perhaps, when I shall be able to prove my gratitude, and the sincerity ofmy friendship, which has never wavered since we were children together.Until that day, farewell Russell; but believe that I rejoice to hear ofyour successes."

  She held out her hand, and as he took it in his, which trembled violently,he felt, even then, that there was no quiver in the icy-white fingers, andthat his name rippled over her lips as calmly as that of the dead had donejust before. She endured his long, searching gaze, like any other Niobe,and he dropped the little pearly hand and quitted the room. At ten o'clockMr. Huntingdon returned, and, with his hat drawn over his eyes, wentstraight to the library. He kissed the face of the dead passionately andhis sob and violent burst of sorrow told his child of his arrival. Shelifted her rigid face, and extended her arms pleadingly.

  "Father! father! here, at least, you will forgive me!"

  He turned from her sternly, and answered, with bitter emphasis--

  "I will not! But for _you_, he would have been different, and this wouldnever have happened."

  "Father, I have asked for love and pardon for the last time."

  She bent down and kissed her cousin, and, with a hard, bitter expression inher countenance, went up to her own room, locking out Paragon and oldNellie, who followed cautiously at her heels.