Memoirs of Emma Courtney

by Mary Hays

  He at length opened his eyes, gazed upon me with a vacant look, andvainly attempted, for some time, to speak. At last, he uttered a fewincoherent words, but I perceived his senses were wandering, and Iconjectured, too truly, that his brain had received a concussion. Hemade an effort to rise, but sunk down again.

  'Where am I,' said he, 'every object appears to me double.'

  He shut his eyes, and remained silent. I mixed for him a cordial andcomposing medicine, and entreating him to take it, he once more raisedhimself, and looked up.--Our eyes met, his were wild and unsettled.

  'That voice,'--said he, in a low tone, 'that countenance--Oh God! wheream I?'

  A strong, but transient, emotion passed over his features. With atrembling hand he seized and swallowed the medicine I had offered, andagain relapsed into a kind of lethargic stupor. I then gave orders for abed to be prepared, into which I had him conveyed. I darkened the room,and desired, that he might be kept perfectly quiet.

  I retired to my apartment, my confinement was yet but recent, and I hadnot perfectly recovered my strength. Exhausted by the strong efforts Ihad made, and the stronger agitation of my mind, I sunk into a faintingfit, (to which I was by no means subject) and remained for some timein a state of perfect insensibility. On my recovery, I learnt that MrLucas, the assistant of my husband, had returned, and was in the chamberof the stranger; I sent for him on his quitting the apartment, andeagerly interrogated him respecting the state of the patient. He shookhis head--I related to him the methods I had taken, and enquired whetherI had erred? He smiled--

  'You are an excellent surgeon,' said he, 'you acted very properly, but,'observing my pallid looks, 'I wish your little nursery may not sufferfrom your humanity'--

  'I lay no claim,' replied I with emotion--'to extraordinary humanity--Iwould have done the same for the poorest of my fellow creatures--butthis gentleman is an old acquaintance, _a friend_, whom, in the earlyperiods of my life, I greatly respected.'

  'I am sorry for it, for I dare not conceal from you, that I think him ina dangerous condition.'

  I changed countenance--'There is no fracture, no bones are broken.'--

  'No, but the brain has received an alarming concussion--he is also,otherwise, much bruised, and, I fear, has suffered some internalinjury.'

  'You distress and terrify me,' said I, gasping for breath--'What is tobe done--shall we call in further advice?'

  'I think so; in the mean time, if you are acquainted with his friends,you would do well to apprize them of what has happened.'

  'I know little of them, I know not where to address them--Oh! save him,'continued I, clasping my hands with encreased emotion, unconscious ofwhat I did, 'for God's sake save him, if you would preserve me fromdis--'

  A look penetrating and curious from Lucas, recalled me to reason.Commending his patient to my care, he quitted me, and rode to the nexttown to procure the aid of a skilful and experienced Physician. I walkedup and down the room for some time in a state of distraction.

  'He will die'--exclaimed I--'die in my house--fatal accident! Oh,Augustus! _too tenderly beloved_, thou wert fated to be the ruin of mypeace! But, whatever may be the consequences, I will perform, for thee,the last tender offices.--I will not desert my duty!'

  The nurse brought to me my infant, it smiled in my face--I pressed it tomy bosom--I wept over it.--How could I, from that agitated bosom, giveit a pernicious sustenance?

  CHAPTER XXI

  In the evening, I repaired to the chamber of Mr Harley, I sat by hisbed-side, I gazed mournfully on his flushed, but vacant countenance--Itook his hand--it was dry and burning--the pulse beat rapidly, butirregularly, beneath my trembling fingers. His lips moved, he seemed tospeak, though inarticulately--but sometimes raising his voice, I coulddistinguish a few incoherent sentences. In casting my eyes round theroom, I observed the scattered articles of his dress, his cloaths wereblack, and in his hat, which lay on the ground, I discovered a crapehatband. I continued to hold his burning hand in mine.

  'She died,'--said he--'and my unkindness killed her--unhappy Emma--thyheart was too tender!'--I shuddered--'No, no,'--continued he, after afew minutes pause, 'she is not married--she dared not give her handwithout her heart, _and that heart was only mine_!' he added somethingmore, in a lower tone, which I was unable to distinguish.

  Overcome by a variety of sensations, I sunk into a chair, and, throwingmy handkerchief over my face, indulged my tears.

  Sometimes he mentioned his wife, sometimes his mother.--At length,speaking rapidly, in a raised voice--'My son,'--said he, 'thou hast nomother--but Emma will be a mother to thee--she will love thee--_sheloved thy father_--her heart was the residence of gentleaffections--yet, I pierced that heart!'

  I suspected, that a confused recollection of having seen me onrecovering from the state of insensibility, in which he had beenbrought, after the accident, into our house, had probably recalled theassociations formerly connected with this idea. The scene became tooaffecting: I rushed from the apartment. All the past impressions seemedto revive in my mind--my thoughts, with fatal mechanism, ran back intotheir old and accustomed channels.--For a moment, conjugal, maternal,duties, every consideration _but for one object_ faded from before me!

  In a few hours, Mr Lucas returned with the physician;--I attendedthem to the chamber, heedfully watching their looks. The fever stillcontinued very high, accompanied with a labouring, unsteady pulse, adifficult respiration, and strong palpitations of the heart. The doctorsaid little, but I discovered his apprehensions in his countenance. Thepatient appeared particularly restless and uneasy, and the deliriumstill continued. On quitting the apartment, I earnestly conjured thegentlemen to tell me their opinion of the case. They both expressed anapprehension of internal injury.

  'But a short time,' they added, 'would determine it; in the mean whilehe must be kept perfectly still.'

  I turned from them, and walked to the window--I raised my eyes toheaven--I breathed an involuntary ejaculation--I felt that the crisisof my fate was approaching, and I endeavoured to steel my nerves--toprepare my mind for the arduous duties which awaited me.

  Mr Lucas approached me, the physician having quitted the room. '_MrsMontague_,' said he, in an emphatic tone--'in your sympathy for a_stranger_, do not forget other relations.'

  'I do not need, sir, to be reminded by you of my duties; were not thesufferings of a fellow being a sufficient claim upon our humanity, thisgentleman has _more affecting claims_--I am neither a stranger to him,nor to his virtues.'

  'So I perceive, madam,' said he, with an air a little sarcastic, 'Iwish, Mr Montague were here to participate your cares.'

  'I wish he were, sir, his generous nature would not disallow them.' Ispoke haughtily, and abruptly left him.

  I took a turn in the garden, endeavouring to compose my spirits, and,after visiting the nursery, returned to the chamber of Mr Harley. Ithere found Mr Lucas, and in a steady tone, declared my intention ofwatching his patient through the night.

  'As you please, madam,' said he coldly.

  I seated myself in an easy chair, reclining my head on my hand. The bedcurtains were undrawn on the side next me. Augustus frequently started,as from broken slumbers; his respiration grew, every moment, moredifficult and laborious, and, sometimes, he groaned heavily, as if ingreat pain. Once he suddenly raised himself in the bed, and, gazingwildly round the room, exclaimed in a distinct, but hurried tone--

  'Why dost thou persecute me with thy ill-fated tenderness? A fathomlessgulf separates us!--Emma!' added he, in a plaintive voice, '_dost thou,indeed, still love me?_' and, heaving a convulsive sigh, sunk again onhis pillow.

  Mr Lucas, who stood at the feet of the bed, turned his eye on me. Imet his glance with the steady aspect of conscious rectitude. Aboutmidnight, our patient grew worse, and, after strong agonies, was seizedwith a vomiting of blood. The fears of the physician were but too wellverified, he had again ruptured the blood-vessel, once before broken.

  Mr Lucas had but just retired, I orde
red him to be instantly recalled,and, stifling every feeling, that might incapacitate me for activeexertion, I rendered him all the assistance in my power--I neithertrembled, nor shed a tear--I banished the _woman_ from my heart--Iacquitted myself with a firmness that would not have disgraced the mostexperienced, and veteran surgeon. My services were materially useful,my solicitude vanquished every shrinking sensibility, _affection hadconverted me into a heroine_! The haemorrhage continued, at intervals,all the next day: I passed once or twice from the chamber to thenursery, and immediately returned. We called in a consultation, butlittle hope was afforded.

  The next night, Mr Lucas and myself continued to watch--towards morningour exhausted patient sunk into an apparently tranquil slumber. Mr Lucasintreated me to retire, and take some repose, on my refusal, he availedhimself of the opportunity, and went to his apartment, desiring to becalled if any change should take place. The nurse slept soundly in herchair, I alone remained watching--I felt neither fatigue nor languor--mystrength seemed preserved as by a miracle, so omnipotent is theoperation of moral causes!

  Silence reigned throughout the house; I hung over the object of mytender cares--his features were serene--but his cheeks and lips werepale and bloodless. From time to time I took his lifeless hand--a low,fluttering, pulse, sometimes seeming to stop, and then to vibrate with atremulous motion, but too plainly justified my fears--his breath, thoughless laborious, was quick and short--a cold dew hung upon his temples--Igently wiped them with my handkerchief, and pressed my lips to hisforehead. Yet, at that moment, that solemn moment--while I beheld theobject of my virgin affections--whom I had loved with a tenderness,'passing the love of woman'--expiring before my eyes--I forgot not thatI was a wife and a mother.--The purity of my feelings sanctified theirenthusiasm!

  The day had far advanced, though the house still remained quiet, whenAugustus, after a deep drawn sigh, opened his eyes. The loss of bloodhad calmed the delirium, and though he regarded me attentively, and withevident surprize, the wildness of his eyes and countenance had givenplace to their accustomed steady expression. He spoke in a faint voice.

  'Where am I, how came I here?'

  I drew nearer to him--'An unfortunate accident has thrown you into thecare of kind friends--you have been very ill--it is not proper that youshould exert yourself--rely on those to whom your safety is precious.'

  He looked at me as I spoke--his eyes glistened--he breathed a halfsmothered sigh, but attempted not to reply. He continued to doze atintervals throughout the day, but evidently grew weaker every hour--Iquitted him not for a moment, even my nursery was forgotten. I sat, orknelt, at the bed's head, and, between his short and broken slumbers,administered cordial medicines. He seemed to take them with pleasurefrom my hand, and a mournful tenderness at times beamed in his eyes. Ineither spake nor wept--my strength appeared equal to every trial.

  In the evening, starting from a troubled sleep, he fell intoconvulsions--I kept my station--our efforts were successful--he againrevived. I supported the pillows on which his head reclined, sprinkledthe bed cloaths, and bathed his temples, with hungary water, while Iwiped from them the damps of death. A few tears at length forced theirway, they fell upon his hand, which rested on the pillow--he kissed themoff, and raised to mine his languid eyes, in which death was alreadypainted.

  The blood forsaking the extremities, rushed wildly to my heart, a strongpalpitation seized it, my fortitude had well nigh forsaken me. But Ihad been habituated to subdue my feelings, and should I suffer themto disturb the last moments of him, _who had taught me this painfullesson_? He made a sign for a cordial, an attendant offering one--hewaved his hand and turned from her his face--I took it--held it tohis lips, and he instantly drank it. Another strong emotion shook mynerves--once more I struggled and gained the victory. He spoke in feebleand interrupted periods--kneeling down, scarce daring to breathe, Ilistened.

  'I have a son,' said he,--'I am dying--he will have no longer aparent--transfer to him a portion of--'

  'I comprehend you--say no more--_he is mine_--I adopt him--where shall Ifind--?'

  He pointed to his cloaths;--'a pocket book'--said he, in accents stillfainter.

  'Enough!--I swear, in this awful moment, never to forsake him.'

  He raised my hand to his lips--a tender smile illumined his countenance--'Surely,' said he, 'I have sufficiently fulfilled the dictates ofa rigid honour!--In these last moments--when every earthly tie isdissolving--when human institutions fade before my sight--I may,without a crime, tell you--_that I have loved you_.--Your tendernessearly penetrated my heart--aware of its weakness--I sought to shunyou--I imposed on myself those severe laws of which you causelesslycomplained.--Had my conduct been less rigid, I had been lost--I had beenunjust to the bonds which I had voluntarily contracted; and which,therefore, had on me indispensible claims. I acted from good motives,but no doubt, was guilty of some errors--yet, my conflicts were,even, more cruel than yours--I had not only to contend against my ownsensibility, but against yours also.--The fire which is pent up burnsthe fiercest!'--

  He ceased to speak--a transient glow, which had lighted up hiscountenance, faded--exhausted, by the strong effort he had made, he sunkback--his eyes grew dim--they closed--_their last light beamed onme_!--I caught him in my arms--and--_he awoke no more_. The spirits,that had hitherto supported me, suddenly subsided. I uttered a piercingshriek, and sunk upon the body.

  CHAPTER XXII

  Many weeks passed of which I have no remembrance, they were a blank inmy life--a long life of sorrow! When restored to recollection, I foundmyself in my own chamber, my husband attending me. It was a long timebefore I could clearly retrace the images of the past. I learned--

  'That I had been seized with a nervous fever, in consequence of havingexerted myself beyond my strength; that my head had been disordered;that Mr Montague on his return, finding me in this situation, of whichMr Lucas had explained the causes, had been absorbed in deep affliction;that, inattentive to every other concern, he had scarcely quitted myapartment; that my child had been sent out to nurse; and that myrecovery had been despaired of.'

  My constitution was impaired by these repeated shocks. I continuedseveral months in a low and debilitated state.--With returning reason,I recalled to my remembrance the charge which Augustus had consigned tome in his last moments. I enquired earnestly for the pocket-book he hadmentioned, and was informed, that, after his decease, it had been found,and its contents examined, which were a bank note of fifty pounds, someletters, and memorandums. Among the letters was one from his brother,by which means they had learned his address, and had been enabled totransmit to him an account of the melancholy catastrophe, and to requesthis orders respecting the disposal of the body. On the receipt of thisintelligence, the younger Mr Harley had come immediately into ----shire,had received his brother's effects, and had his remains decently andrespectfully interred in the town where the fatal accident had takenplace, through which he was passing in his way to visit a friend.

  As soon as I had strength to hold a pen, I wrote to this gentleman,mentioning the tender office which had been consigned to me; andrequesting that the child, or children, of Mr Augustus Harley, might beconsigned to my care. To this letter I received an answer, in a fewdays, hinting--

  'That the marriage of my deceased friend had not been more imprudentthan unfortunate; that he had struggled with great difficulties and manysorrows; that his wife had been dead near a twelve-month; that he hadlost two of his children, about the same period, with the small-pox, oneonly surviving, the younger, a son, a year and a half old; that it was,at present, at nurse, under his (his brother's) protection; that hisrespect for me, and knowledge of my friendship for their family, addedto his wish of complying with every request of his deceased brother,prevented him from hesitating a moment respecting the propriety ofyielding the child to my care; that it should be delivered to any personwhom I should commission for the purpose; and that I might draw upon himfor the necessary charges towards the support and education of
hisnephew.'

  I mentioned to Mr Montague these particulars, with a desire of availingmyself of his counsel and assistance on the occasion.

  'You are free, madam,' he replied, with a cold and distant air, 'to actas you shall think proper; but you must excuse me from making myselfresponsible in this affair.'

  I sighed deeply. I perceived, but too plainly, that _a mortal blow wasgiven to my tranquillity_; but I determined to persevere in what Iconsidered to be my duty. On the retrospect of my conduct, my heartacquitted me; and I endeavoured to submit, without repining, to my fate.

  I was, at this period, informed by a faithful servant, who attended meduring my illness, of what I had before but too truly conjectured--Thatin my delirium I had incessantly called upon the name of Augustus Harley,and repeated, at intervals, in broken language, the circumstances of ourlast tender and fatal interview: this, with some particulars relatedby Mr Lucas to Mr Montague on his return, had, it seems, at the time,inflamed the irascible passions of my husband, almost to madness. Histransports had subsided, by degrees, into gloomy reserve: he had watchedme, till my recovery, with unremitting attention; since which hisconfidence and affection became, every day, more visibly alienated.Self-respect suppressed my complaints--conscious of deserving, even morethan ever, his esteem, I bore his caprice with patience, trusting thattime, and my conduct, would restore him to reason, and awaken in hisheart a sense of justice.

  I sent for my babe from the house of the nurse, to whose care it hadbeen confided during my illness, and placed the little Augustus in itsstead. 'It is unnecessary, my friend, to say, that you were that lovelyand interesting child.--Oh! with what emotion did I receive, and press,you to my care-worn bosom; retracing in your smiling countenance thefeatures of your unfortunate father! Adopting you for my own, I dividedmy affection between you and my Emma. Scarce a day passed that I didnot visit the cottage of your nurse. I taught you to call me by theendearing name of _mother_! I delighted to see you caress my infant withfraternal tenderness--I endeavoured to cherish this growing affection,and found a sweet relief from my sorrows in these tender, maternal,cares.'