XXVI.
A MAN'S JUSTICE AND A WOMAN'S MERCY.
"Fair is foul and foul is fair."
--MACBETH.
"Have you ever seen a man whose instantaneous effect upon you waselectrical; in whose expression, carriage, or manner, there wasconcealed a charm that attracted and interested you, apart from hisactual worth and beauty? Such a one was Mr. Roger Holt, the gentleman Inow discerned entering the gate with Jacqueline's lover. It was not thathe was handsome. He could not for one moment bear any comparison withhis brother in substantial attraction, and yet when they were both inthe room, you looked at him in preference to the other, and was vexedwith yourself for doing so. He seemed to be the younger as he wascertainly the smaller; yet he took the lead, even in coming up the walk.Why had he not taken it in the deeper and more important matter? Was itbecause he did not love her?
"I was not present when Jacqueline greeted her guests and presented Mr.Roger Holt to her father. But later in the day I spent a half hour withthem and saw enough to be able to satisfy myself as to the falsity of mylast supposition. Never had I seen on a human countenance the evidencesof a wilder passion than that which informed his features, as he sat inthe further window of the parlor, presumably engaged in admiring theautumn landscape, but really occupied in casting short side-long glancesat Jacqueline, who sat listening with a superb nonchalence, but with arestless gleam in her wandering eye, to the genial talk between heracknowledged lover and the Colonel. I half feared he would rise from hisseat, and flinging himself before her, demand then and there anexplanation of her engagement.
"But beyond the impatience of those short burning glances, he controlledhimself well, and it was Jacqueline who moved at last.
"I saw the purpose growing in her eyes long before she stirred. The facewhich had been a mystery to me from her cradle, was in the presence ofthis man, like an open page which all might read. Its letters wereflame, but that did not make them any less clear. I felt her swayingtowards him, before an eyelash trembled or a quiver shook her tall form.He may have understood her purpose also, for his eye wandered towardsthe open piano. She rose like a queen.
"'Mr. Roger Holt is a singer,' said she in passing her father, 'I amgoing to ask him to give us one of the old ballads you profess to likeso much.'
"The conversation at once ceased. The Colonel who made no secret of hisfondness for music, turned at once towards the stranger, with anexpression of great courtesy. Instantly that gentleman rose, and meetingthe request of his hostess with a profound bow, proceeded at once to thepiano. 'He will not leave it till he has spoken to her,' thought I. Nordid he, for that very moment as they stood turning her music over, Iperceived his lips move in a hurried question, to which she as brieflyresponded, whereupon he caught up a sheet of music from the pile, andflinging back his head with a victorious smile, began to sing.
"Had I known what lay behind his words, I would have braved everythingrather than have allowed him to utter a note in that room which had oncerung with the carols of Jacqueline's mother. But what could I guess ofthe possible evil underlying the natural ebullition of unrestrainedpassion that from some cause of pride or pique, had met with a strangeinexplicable check. So I sat still, shuddering perhaps, but quiet in mycorner; while the haunting tones of his strange and thrilling voice,rose and fell in the most uncanny of Scottish love songs. Nor did I domore than wonder with all my agitated soul, when at the conclusionJacqueline came back, and pausing beside the man to whom she had givenher troth, looked down in his beaming face and smiled with that overflowof delight, which she dared not bestow upon his brother.
"Another little incident of that hour remains engraven upon my memory.She had been showing to the gentlemen a rare plant that stood in thefront parlor window, and was dilating upon its marvels, when Mr. RobertHolt, her accepted lover, took in his clasp the small white handwandering so invitingly among the leaves of the huge palm, and glancingat the finger which should have worn his ring, looked inquiringly intoher face.
"'O,' said she, interrupting her little speech to draw away her hand,'you miss your diamond? I have it, sir. It lies very safe in my pocket;it is a beautiful gem, but _your ring does not fit me_.'
"The way she said those words and the air with which she tossed back herhead, must have made one heart in that room beat joyously, but it didnot reassure me or subdue my secret apprehension.
"'Not fit!' her lover responded; and begged her to allow him to try iton and see, but she shook her head with wilful coquetry, and turning tothe piano, commenced singing a gay little song that was like silverbells, shaken by a sudden and mighty tempest.
"Even the Colonel felt the change in his daughter, though he neverguessed the cause, and came and went during the evening that followed,with certain odd sighs that made my heart ache with strange forebodings.Only her lover was unconscious, or if he felt the new and wayward forceand fire in her manner, attributed it to his own presence andunspeakable devotion. Mr. Roger Holt, on the contrary, thoroughlyunderstood it. Though he was strangely calm, as calm now as he hadpreviously been alert and fiery, he never lost a gleam of her eye in hisdirection, or a turn of her form towards the chair where he sat. But thesmile with which he contemplated her was not pleasant to me. It wasinformed with self-consciousness, and a certain hard triumph, that madeit almost sinister. 'She has given her hand to the true man,' I mused,'wherever her heart may be. But had she given it?' I began to doubt as Ibegan to muse. With that uncontrollable will of hers, she was capable ofanything; did she intend to break with Robert, now that she had seenRoger? I detected no signs of it beyond the evident delight they took ineach other's presence. They were guilty of no further conversation of asecret or intimate character, and when with the striking of the clock atten, Mr. Robert Holt rose to leave, his brother followed without anydemur, even preceding him in his departure and limiting his farewell toa short brotherly pressure of Jacqueline's fair hand.
"But much may be conveyed in a pressure, or so I began to think as Iheard the low laugh that rippled from Jacqueline's lips as she turned togo up to her room; and if I had been her mother--
"But that is not what you want to hear. Enough that I did not followher, that I did not even acquaint Colonel Japha with my fears, thatindeed I did nothing but lie awake, praying and asking what I ought todo. There had been so little said; there had been so little done. Aword, a sentence between them, the interchange of a couple of songs,and--What else that I could communicate to another?
"A week, two weeks passed, and her look of wilful happiness did not fly.She was flooded with notes from her accepted lover, whose handwriting Ihad learned by this time to distinguish, but not one, so far as I couldlearn, from any other source; yet her feet tripped lightly through thehouse, and her form had a rich grace in its every movement, that bespokea mind settled in some deep joy or quiet determination. I felt theimpenetrability of a secretly cherished hope, whenever I looked at her.If I had not known to the contrary, I should have said that herprospective marriage had become to her a dream of unfathomable delight.Whence then came this rapture? Through what communication was born thissecret hope? I could not guess, I could only watch and wait.
"Meanwhile some random guesses at the truth had been made by theneighbors. Jacqueline had a lover. That lover was a gentleman; but theColonel was critical; he had refused his consent and the young peoplehad parted. Such was the talk, begotten perhaps by the persistency withwhich Jacqueline remained in the house, and the almost severe look withwhich Colonel Japha trod the streets of his native village, which hesoon felt would lose all their charm in the departure of his only child.I scarcely ventured out more than Jacqueline; for I have but littlecontrol over my feelings and did not know what I would do, if any oneshould closely press me with questions.
"The unexpected discovery that our pretty young servant girl was in thehabit of stealing into Jacqueline's room late at night, was the firstthing that startled me into asking whether or not my supposition wastrue, that Jacqueline receive
d no messages from Mr. Robert Holt. Andscarcely had I become certain that a clandestine correspondence wasbeing carried on between them through the medium of this girl, then theclimax came, and knowledge on my part and secrecy on hers availed nolonger.
"It was a day in October. The stoves had been put up in the house, andseeing Jacqueline roaming about the halls, in a renewed fit of thatstrange restlessness which had affected her the day before Mr. RogerHolt's visit, I went into her room to light a fire, and make everythinglook cheerful before dusk. I found the atmosphere warm, and going to thestove, discovered that a fire had been already kindled there, but hadgone out for want of fuel. I at once commenced to rake away the ashes,in order to make preparations for a new one, when I came upon severalscraps of half burned paper.
"Jacqueline had been burning letters. Do you blame me for picking outthose scraps and hastening with them to another room, when I tell youthey were written in a marked and characteristic hand that bore littleor no resemblance to that of her accepted lover, and that the wordswhich flashed first upon my eye were those ominous ones of _my wife_!
"They were three in number, and while more or less discolored andirregular, were still legible. Think child with what a thrill of horrorand sharp motherly anguish, I read such words as 'Love you! I wouldpress you in my arms if you were plague-stricken! The least turn of yourhead makes my blood cringe, as if a flame had touched me. I would followyou on my knees, if you led me round the world. Let me see Robert takeyour hand again and I will--'
"'Forget you! Do we forget the dagger that has struck us? I am anotherman since--'
"'I will have you if Robert goes mad and your father kills me. That I amburdened with a wife, is nothing. What is a wife that I do not--' 'Youshall be my true wife, my--'
"'To-night then, be ready; I will wait for you at the gate. A littleresolution on your part, and then--'
"I could read no further. The living, burning truth had forced itselfupon me, that Jacqueline, our darling, our pride, the soul of our life,stood tottering upon the brink of a gulf horrible as the mouth of hell.For I never doubted for an instant what her answer would be to thisentreaty. In all her past life, God pity us, there had been no tokens ofthat immovable hold on virtue, that would save her in such an extremityas this. Nevertheless, to make all sure, I flew back to her room, andtearing open bureau drawers and closet doors, discovered that herprettiest things had been sent away. She was going, then, and on thatvery night! and her father did not even know she was untrue to herbetrothed lover. The horror of the situation was too much for me; Ifaltered as I left her room, her dainty, maidenly room, and actuallycrouched against the wall like a guilty thing, as I heard the sound ofher voice singing some maddening strain in the parlors below. Whatshould I do? Appeal to her, or warn her father of the frightful peril inwhich his honor and happiness stood? Alas, any appeal to her would beuseless. In the glare of this awful revelation I had come to a fullcomprehension of her nature. But her father was a man; he could commandas well as entreat, could even force obedience if all other methodsfailed. To him, then, must I go; but I had rather have gone to the rack.He was so proud a man! Had owned to such undeviating trust in hisdaughter's honor, as a Japha and his child! The blow would kill him; ordaze him so, he might better have been killed. My knees shook under me,as I traversed the hall to his little study over the parlor, and when Icame to the door, I rather fell against it than knocked, so great was myown anguish, and so deep my terror of his. He was a ready man and hecame to the door at once, but upon seeing me, drew back as if his eyehad fallen upon a phantom.
"'Hush!' said I, scarcely knowing what I uttered; and going in, I closedthe door and latched it firmly behind me. 'I have come,' said I in avoice that made him start, 'to ask you to save your daughter. She is indeadly peril; she--' a strain of her song came in at that moment fromthe staircase. She was ascending to her room. He looked at me in a doubtof my sanity.
"'Not physical peril,' I stammered, 'but _moral_. She loves madly,unreasonably, and with a headlong passion that laughs at every obstacle,a man whom neither you nor heaven can look upon with aught butexecration. She--'
"'Mrs. Hamlin!'--How well I remember his cool, calm voice, so deliberatein his impressive moments, so deliberate now, when perhaps she wasdonning hat and shawl for her elopement--'You are laboring under a greatmistake. Instead of execrating Mr. Holt, I admire him most profoundly.Since the time has come for me to give up my daughter, I know of no oneto whom I would rather surrender her.'
"'But Mr. Holt is not the man,' I cried, half wild in my fear anddesperation. 'Do you remember the gentleman who came with him on hislast visit? He called him his brother, and he is I believe, but--'
"The way he turned his grand white forehead towards me at that, madeevery fibre in my being quiver. 'Jacqueline does not love _him_!'exclaimed he. How sharp his voice, how changed his eye! I shrank back,trembling as I bowed my head, thinking of the word yet to be said.
"'But he won't compare--' he went on with a severe intonation. 'Besidesher honor is engaged. You are dealing in fancies, Mrs. Hamlin.'
"I tore out of my breast the scraps of paper which had enlightened me sohorribly, and held them towards him; then bethought myself, and drewback. 'I have proof,' said I; 'but first I must tell you that Jacquelineis not as good a girl as you have thought her. She is not her mother'schild in the qualities of love and honor. She is destined to bring agreat woe upon your head. In her passion for this man, she has forgottenyour trust in her, the incorruptibility of your name, the honor of yourhouse. Be strong, sir, for God is about to smite you in your tenderestspot.
"Ah, with what pride he towered upon me! this white-haired, statelygentleman before whom I had hitherto held my breath in admiring awe;towered upon me though his face was ghostly pale and his hand trembledlike an aspen as he held it out!
"'Give me the papers you hold there,' cried he. 'Either you are gonemad, or else--Who wrote these lines?' he demanded, glancing down uponthe hard, firm scrawl that blackened the bits of paper I had given him.
"'Mr. Roger Holt,' I returned unhesitatingly. 'I found those bits inJacqueline's stove. Her clothes have been sent away, sir,' I continuedas I saw his face grow fixed above the scraps he consulted. 'Twilight iscoming on and--Mr. Roger Holt is a married man!'
"'What!'
"I never saw such a look flash from a human face as that which dartedfrom his at that terrible moment. I thought he would have fallen, but heonly dropped the papers out of his hand. 'Heaven forgive us!' murmuredI, calmed by a sight of his misery, into some semblance of ofself-control, 'but we have never understood Jacqueline. She is not to beled, sir, by principles or duty. She loves this man, and love with heris a stormy wind, capable of sweeping her into any abyss of contumely orsuffering. If you would save her, kill her love; the death of her loverwould only transform her into a demon.'
"He looked at me as if I had told him the world had come to an end. 'MyJacqueline!' he murmured in a low, incredulous voice of the tenderestyearning. 'My Jacqueline!'
"'Oh!' I shrieked, torn by my anguish for him and the terror of herescaping while we were yet talking, 'God knows I had rather have diedthan contaminate her by such words as I have uttered. She is dear to meas my soul; dearer to me than my life. I have a mother's feeling forher, sir. If to fling myself headlong from that window, would delay herfeet from going down the stairs to meet her guilty lover, I would gladlydo it. It is her danger makes me speak. O sir, realize that danger andhasten before she has taken the irrevocable step.'
"He started like a man pricked by a sudden dart. 'She is going--youbelieve she is going to meet him?'
"'I do,' said I.
"He gave me a terrible look and started for the door. I hurriedly pickedup the scraps that had fallen to the floor, and rushed around by aninner passage-way to my own little room, hiding my head and waiting asfor the crash of a falling avalanche. Suddenly a cry rose in the hall.
"There are some sounds that lift you unconsciously to your feet. Dashingout o
f my room, I detected the face of the servant-girl whom I havebefore mentioned, looking out of her door some distance down thecorridor. Hastening towards her, I uttered some words about her being abusy-body, and thrusting her inside her room, locked the door upon her.Then I hastened with what speed I might to the front of the house, andcoming out upon the grand staircase, met a sight that shook me to thevery soul. You have been up the stairs; you know how they branch off toleft and right from the platform near the top. The left branch led inthose days to Colonel Japha's room, the right to the apartments occupiedby Jacqueline and myself. Coming upon them, then, as I did from my sideof the house, I found myself in full view of the opposite approach, andthere on the topmost step I beheld Colonel Japha, standing in anattitude of awful denunciation, while half way down the staircase, Ibeheld the figure of Jacqueline, hindered in her gliding course towardsthe front door by the terrible, 'Stop!' whose echo had reached me in myroom and caused me to rush quaking and horrified to this spot. I leanedback sick and horror-stricken against the wall. There was no mercy inhis voice: he had awakened to a full realization of the situation andthe pride of the Japhas had made him steel.
"'You are my child!' he was saying. 'I have loved you and do still; butproceed one step farther towards the man that awaits you at the gate,and the door that opens upon you, _shuts_ never to open again!'
"'Colonel!' I exclaimed, starting forward; but he heard me no more thanhe would a fly buzzing or a bird singing.
"'I desire it to shut; I have no wish to come back!' issued from the setwhite lips of the girl beneath us. 'There is no such charm for me inthis humdrum house, that I should wish to exchange life with the man Iadore, for its droning, spiritless existence!' And she lifted her footto proceed.
"'Jacqueline!' I shrieked, leaning forward in my turn, and holding herby my anguish, as I never believed she could be held by anything,'Think, child, think what you do! It is not life you are going to butdeath. A man who can take a young girl from her father's house, from herlover's arms, from her mother's grave, from the shrine of all that ispure and holy, to dash her into a pit of all that is corrupt, loathsomeand deadly, is not one with whom you can _live_. You say you adore him:can one adore falsehood, selfishness and depravity? Does hypocrisy winlove? Can the embraces of a serpent bring peace? Jacqueline, Jacqueline,you are yet pure; come back to our love and our hearts, before we diehere in our shame at the head of the stairs, where your mother wascarried out to her grave!'
"She trembled. I saw the hand that clutched the banister loosen itsgrip; she cast one quick look behind her, and her eyes flashed upon herfather's face; it was set like a flint.
"'If you come back,' cried he, leaning towards her, but not advancing astep from where he stood, 'you must come back of your own free will. Iwill hold no creature prisoner in my house. I must trust you implicitly,or not at all. Speak then, which shall it be?' And he raised his handabove his head, with a supreme and awful gesture, 'a father's blessingor a father's curse?'
"'A father's curse, then! since you command me to choose,' rang out fromher lips in a burst of uncontrollable passion. 'I want no blessing thatseparates me from _him_!' And she pointed towards the door with a lookthat, defiant as it was, spoke of a terrible love before which all ourwarnings and entreaties were but as empty air.
"'Curses then upon your head, slayer of a family's honor, a father'slove, and a mother's memory! Curses upon you, at home and abroad! in thejoy of your first passion and in the agony of your last despair! May youlive to look upon that door as the gateway to heaven, and find it shut!May your children, if you are cursed with them, turn in your face, asyou are turning now in mine! May the lightning of heaven be your candle,and the blackness of death your daily food and your nightly drink!' Andwith a look in which all the terrors he invoked, seemed to crashdownward from his reeling brain upon her shrinking terror-crouched head,he gave one mighty gasp and fell back stricken to the floor.
"'God!' burst from her lips, and she rushed downwards to the door like acreature hunted to its quarry. I saw her white face gleam marble-like inthe fading light that came in from the chinks about the door. I saw hertrembling hand fumbling with the knob, and rousing from my stupor,called down to her with all the force of a breaking heart,
"'Jacqueline, beware!'
"She turned once more. There was something in my voice she could notwithstand. 'I do not hope to keep you,' cried I, 'but before you go,hear this. In the days to come, when the face that now beams upon youwith such longing, shall have learned to turn from you in weariness, ifnot distaste, when hunger, cold, contumely and disease shall haveblasted that fair brow and seared those soft cheeks, know, that althougha father can curse, a woman who loves like a mother can forgive. Thefather cries, 'Once go out of that door and it shuts upon you never toopen!' 'Once come to _that_ door, say I,' pointing in the direction ofthe house's other entrance, 'and if I live and if I move, it shall opento you, were you as defiled and wretched and forsaken as Magdalen.Remember! Each day at this hour will I watch for you, kneeling upon itsthreshold. In sickness or in health, in joy or in sorrow, in cold or inheat. The hour of six is sacred. Some one of them shall see you fallingweeping on my breast!'
"She gave me a quick stare out of her wide black eyes, then a mockingsmile curled her lips, and murmuring a short, 'You rave!' opened thedoor, and rushed out into the falling dusk. With a resounding clang likethe noise of a stone rolled upon an open grave, the great door swung to,and I was left alone in that desolated house with my stricken master.
The Sword of Damocles: A Story of New York Life Page 27
