Arthur Mervyn; Or, Memoirs of the Year 1793

by Charles Brockden Brown

  CHAPTER XIV.

  This rumour was of a nature to absorb and suspend the whole soul. Acertain sublimity is connected with enormous dangers that imparts to ourconsternation or our pity a tincture of the pleasing. This, at least,may be experienced by those who are beyond the verge of peril. My ownperson was exposed to no hazard. I had leisure to conjure up terrificimages, and to personate the witnesses and sufferers of this calamity.This employment was not enjoined upon me by necessity, but was ardentlypursued, and must therefore have been recommended by some namelesscharm.

  Others were very differently affected. As often as the tale wasembellished with new incidents or enforced by new testimony, the hearergrew pale, his breath was stifled by inquietudes, his blood was chilled,and his stomach was bereaved of its usual energies. A temporaryindisposition was produced in many. Some were haunted by a melancholybordering upon madness, and some, in consequence of sleepless panics,for which no cause could be assigned, and for which no opiates could befound, were attacked by lingering or mortal diseases.

  Mr. Hadwin was superior to groundless apprehensions. His daughters,however, partook in all the consternation which surrounded them. Theeldest had, indeed, abundant reason for her terror. The youth to whomshe was betrothed resided in the city. A year previous to this, he hadleft the house of Mr. Hadwin, who was his uncle, and had removed toPhiladelphia in pursuit of fortune.

  He made himself clerk to a merchant, and, by some mercantile adventuresin which he had successfully engaged, began to flatter himself withbeing able, in no long time, to support a family. Meanwhile, a tenderand constant correspondence was maintained between him and his belovedSusan. This girl was a soft enthusiast, in whose bosom devotion and loveglowed with an ardour that has seldom been exceeded.

  The first tidings of the _yellow fever_ was heard by her withunspeakable perturbation. Wallace was interrogated, by letter,respecting its truth. For a time, he treated it as a vague report. Atlength, a confession was extorted from him that there existed apestilential disease in the city; but he added that it was hithertoconfined to one quarter, distant from the place of his abode.

  The most pathetic entreaties were urged by her that he would withdrawinto the country. He declared his resolution to comply when the streetin which he lived should become infected and his stay should be attendedwith real danger. He stated how much his interests depended upon thefavour of his present employer, who had used the most powerful argumentsto detain him, but declared that, when his situation should become, inthe least degree, perilous, he would slight every consideration ofgratitude and interest, and fly to _Malverton_. Meanwhile, he promisedto communicate tidings of his safety by every opportunity.

  Belding, Mr. Hadwin's next neighbour, though not uninfected by thegeneral panic, persisted to visit the city daily with his _market-cart_.He set out by sunrise, and usually returned by noon. By him a letter waspunctually received by Susan. As the hour of Belding's returnapproached, her impatience and anxiety increased. The daily epistle wasreceived and read, in a transport of eagerness. For a while her emotionsubsided, but returned with augmented vehemence at noon on the ensuingday.

  These agitations were too vehement for a feeble constitution like hers.She renewed her supplications to Wallace to quit the city. He repeatedhis assertions of being, hitherto, secure, and his promise of comingwhen the danger should be imminent. When Belding returned, and, insteadof being accompanied by Wallace, merely brought a letter from him, theunhappy Susan would sink into fits of lamentation and weeping, and repelevery effort to console her with an obstinacy that partook of madness.It was, at length, manifest that Wallace's delays would be fatallyinjurious to the health of his mistress.

  Mr. Hadwin had hitherto been passive. He conceived that the entreatiesand remonstrances of his daughter were more likely to influence theconduct of Wallace than any representations which he could make. Now,however, he wrote the contumacious Wallace a letter, in which he laidhis commands upon him to return in company with Belding, and declaredthat by a longer delay the youth would forfeit his favour.

  The malady had, at this time, made considerable progress. Belding'sinterest at length yielded to his fears, and this was the last journeywhich he proposed to make. Hence our impatience for the return ofWallace was augmented; since, if this opportunity were lost, no suitableconveyance might again be offered him.

  Belding set out, as usual, at the dawn of day. The customary intervalbetween his departure and return was spent by Susan in a tumult of hopesand fears. As noon approached, her suspense arose to a pitch of wildnessand agony. She could scarcely be restrained from running along the road,many miles, towards the city; that she might, by meeting Beldinghalf-way, the sooner ascertain the fate of her lover. She stationedherself at a window which overlooked the road along which Belding was topass.

  Her sister and her father, though less impatient, marked, with painfuleagerness, the first sound of the approaching vehicle. They snatched alook at it as soon as it appeared in sight. Belding was without acompanion.

  This confirmation of her fears overwhelmed the unhappy Susan. She sunkinto a fit, from which, for a long time, her recovery was hopeless. Thiswas succeeded by paroxysms of a furious insanity, in which sheattempted to snatch any pointed implement which lay within her reach,with a view to destroy herself. These being carefully removed, orforcibly wrested from her, she resigned herself to sobs andexclamations.

  Having interrogated Belding, he informed us that he occupied his usualpost in the market-place; that heretofore Wallace had duly sought himout, and exchanged letters; but that, on this morning, the young man hadnot made his appearance, though Belding had been induced, by his wish tosee him, to prolong his stay in the city much beyond the usual period.

  That some other cause than sickness had occasioned this omission wasbarely possible. There was scarcely room for the most sanguine temper toindulge a hope. Wallace was without kindred, and probably withoutfriends, in the city. The merchant in whose service he had placedhimself was connected with him by no considerations but that ofinterest. What then must be his situation when seized with a maladywhich all believed to be contagious, and the fear of which was able todissolve the strongest ties that bind human beings together?

  I was personally a stranger to this youth. I had seen his letters, andthey bespoke, not indeed any great refinement or elevation ofintelligence, but a frank and generous spirit, to which I could notrefuse my esteem; but his chief claim to my affection consisted in hisconsanguinity to Mr. Hadwin, and his place in the affections of Susan.His welfare was essential to the happiness of those whose happiness hadbecome essential to mine. I witnessed the outrages of despair in thedaughter, and the symptoms of a deep but less violent grief in thesister and parent. Was it not possible for me to alleviate their pangs?Could not the fate of Wallace be ascertained?

  This disease assailed men with different degrees of malignity. In itsworst form perhaps it was incurable; but, in some of its modes, it wasdoubtless conquerable by the skill of physicians and the fidelity ofnurses. In its least formidable symptoms, negligence and solitude wouldrender it fatal.

  Wallace might, perhaps, experience this pest in its most lenientdegree; but the desertion of all mankind, the want not only of medicinesbut of food, would irrevocably seal his doom. My imagination wasincessantly pursued by the image of this youth, perishing alone, and inobscurity; calling on the name of distant friends, or invoking,ineffectually, the succour of those who were near.

  Hitherto distress had been contemplated at a distance, and through themedium of a fancy delighting to be startled by the wonderful, ortransported by sublimity. Now the calamity had entered my own doors,imaginary evils were supplanted by real, and my heart was the seat ofcommiseration and horror.

  I found myself unfit for recreation or employment. I shrouded myself inthe gloom of the neighbouring forest, or lost myself in the maze ofrocks and dells. I endeavoured, in vain, to shut out the phantoms of thedying Wallace, and to forget the spectacle of domestic woes.
At lengthit occurred to me to ask, May not this evil be obviated, and thefelicity of the Hadwins re-established? Wallace is friendless andsuccourless; but cannot I supply to him the place of protector andnurse? Why not hasten to the city, search out his abode, and ascertainwhether he be living or dead? If he still retain life, may I not, byconsolation and attendance, contribute to the restoration of his health,and conduct him once more to the bosom of his family?

  With what transports will his arrival be hailed! How amply will theirimpatience and their sorrow be compensated by his return! In thespectacle of their joys, how rapturous and pure will be my delight! Dothe benefits which I have received from the Hadwins demand a lessretribution than this?

  It is true that my own life will be endangered; but my danger will beproportioned to the duration of my stay in this seat of infection. Thedeath or the flight of Wallace may absolve me from the necessity ofspending one night in the city. The rustics who daily frequent themarket are, as experience proves, exempt from this disease; inconsequence, perhaps, of limiting their continuance in the city to a fewhours. May I not, in this respect, conform to their example, and enjoya similar exemption?

  My stay, however, may be longer than the day. I may be condemned toshare in the common destiny. What then? Life is dependent on a thousandcontingencies, not to be computed or foreseen. The seeds of an early andlingering death are sown in my constitution. It is in vain to hope toescape the malady by which my mother and my brothers have died. We are arace whose existence some inherent property has limited to the shortspace of twenty years. We are exposed, in common with the rest ofmankind, to innumerable casualties; but, if these be shunned, we areunalterably fated to perish by _consumption_. Why then should I scrupleto lay down my life in the cause of virtue and humanity? It is better todie in the consciousness of having offered an heroic sacrifice, to dieby a speedy stroke, than by the perverseness of nature, in ignominiousinactivity and lingering agonies.

  These considerations determined me to hasten to the city. To mention mypurpose to the Hadwins would be useless or pernicious. It would onlyaugment the sum of their present anxieties. I should meet with athousand obstacles in the tenderness and terror of Eliza, and in theprudent affection of her father. Their arguments I should be condemnedto hear, but should not be able to confute; and should only load myselfwith imputations of perverseness and temerity.

  But how else should I explain my absence? I had hitherto preserved mylips untainted by prevarication or falsehood. Perhaps there was nooccasion which would justify an untruth; but here, at least, it wassuperfluous or hurtful. My disappearance, if effected without notice orwarning, will give birth to speculation and conjecture; but my truemotives will never be suspected, and therefore will excite no fears. Myconduct will not be charged with guilt. It will merely be thought uponwith some regret, which will be alleviated by the opinion of my safety,and the daily expectation of my return.

  But, since my purpose was to search out Wallace, I must be previouslyfurnished with directions to the place of his abode, and a descriptionof his person. Satisfaction on this head was easily obtained from Mr.Hadwin; who was prevented from suspecting the motives of my curiosity,by my questions being put in a manner apparently casual. He mentionedthe street, and the number of the house.

  I listened with surprise. It was a house with which I was alreadyfamiliar. He resided, it seems, with a merchant. Was it possible for meto be mistaken?

  What, I asked, was the merchant's name?

  _Thetford._

  This was a confirmation of my first conjecture. I recollected theextraordinary means by which I had gained access to the house andbedchamber of this gentleman. I recalled the person and appearance ofthe youth by whose artifices I had been entangled in the snare. Theseartifices implied some domestic or confidential connection betweenThetford and my guide. Wallace was a member of the family. Could it behe by whom I was betrayed?

  Suitable questions easily obtained from Hadwin a description of theperson and carriage of his nephew. Every circumstance evinced theidentity of their persons. Wallace, then, was the engaging and sprightlyyouth whom I had encountered at Lesher's; and who, for purposes nothitherto discoverable, had led me into a situation so romantic andperilous.

  I was far from suspecting that these purposes were criminal. It was easyto infer that his conduct proceeded from juvenile wantonness and a loveof sport. My resolution was unaltered by this disclosure; and, havingobtained all the information which I needed, I secretly began myjourney.

  My reflections, on the way, were sufficiently employed in tracing theconsequences of my project; in computing the inconveniences and dangersto which I was preparing to subject myself; in fortifying my courageagainst the influence of rueful sights and abrupt transitions; and inimagining the measures which it would be proper to pursue in everyemergency.

  Connected as these views were with the family and character ofThetford, I could not but sometimes advert to those incidents whichformerly happened. The mercantile alliance between him and Welbeck wasremembered; the allusions which were made to the condition of the latterin the chamber-conversation of which I was an unsuspected auditor; andthe relation which these allusions might possess with subsequentoccurrences. Welbeck's property was forfeited. It had been confided tothe care of Thetford's brother. Had the cause of this forfeiture beentruly or thoroughly explained? Might not contraband articles have beenadmitted through the management or under the connivance of the brothers?and might not the younger Thetford be furnished with the means ofpurchasing the captured vessel and her cargo,--which, as usual, would besold by auction at a fifth or tenth of its real value?

  Welbeck was not alive to profit by the detection of this artifice,admitting these conclusions to be just. My knowledge will be useless tothe world; for by what motives can I be influenced to publish the truth?or by whom will my single testimony be believed, in opposition to thatplausible exterior, and, perhaps, to that general integrity, whichThetford has maintained? To myself it will not be unprofitable. It is alesson on the principles of human nature; on the delusiveness ofappearances; on the perviousness of fraud; and on the power with whichnature has invested human beings over the thoughts and actions of eachother.

  Thetford and his frauds were dismissed from my thoughts, to give placeto considerations relative to Clemenza Lodi, and the money which chancehad thrown into my possession. Time had only confirmed my purpose torestore these bills to the rightful proprietor, and heightened myimpatience to discover her retreat. I reflected, that the means of doingthis were more likely to suggest themselves at the place to which I wasgoing than elsewhere. I might, indeed, perish before my views, in thisrespect, could be accomplished. Against these evils I had at present nopower to provide. While I lived, I would bear perpetually about me thevolume and its precious contents. If I died, a superior power mustdirect the course of this as of all other events.