The Lost Hunter

by John Turvill Adams

  CHAPTER IX.

  He was a man Whom no one could have passed without remark, Active and nervous was his gait; his limbs And his whole figure breathed intelligence. Time had compressed the freshness of his cheek Into a narrow circle of deep red, But had not tamed his eye; that under brows, Shaggy and grey, had meanings which it brought From years of youth.

  WORDSWORTH'S EXCURSION.

  There were certain seasons of the year when the malady of theSolitary assumed a more serious character than at others. From whatcircumstance this proceeded was unknown. It might arise from anassociation of ideas, connected in some manner with the events ofhis life, the particulars of which, although curious persons had, atvarious times, endeavored to draw them from him, he had never revealedmore plainly than in the conversations with Ohquamehud and thedoctor. The imagination was left to wander, therefore, among whateverspeculations respecting him it chose to indulge in, and, accordingly,there was no hypothesis that could be started, however absurd, thatdid not find advocates.

  By some, he was supposed to be a murderer, whom remorse had drivenfrom the haunts of men, and who was endeavoring to expiate hiscrimes by self-denial and suffering; others, asserted that he was theWandering Jew, though his long residence at the island militateda little with the idea: however, that was balanced by his markedreverence for the New Testament, and frequent references to the comingof the Son of Man; while others insisted he was a pirate, who hadburied treasure on the lonely island, and there watched over itssecurity. This last opinion was received with especial favor by thegaping vulgar, and further confirmed by the fact that the Solitarynever asked alms or was destitute of money, of which, indeed, he gaveaway to those whom he considered poorer than himself. But whatever wasthe truth, or however anxious the good people of Hillsdale might be todiscover the secret, no one ventured to meddle with him, though morethan one old woman had hinted that it was a shame he should be allowedto run about with so long a beard, and a resolute fellow even oncesuggested the expediency of arresting him on suspicion. As, however,his life was perfectly harmless, and he had never been, nor seemedlikely to become, a burden to the town, nor had committed any act ofviolence, such counsels were considered too harsh, especially as theattempt to execute them might involve the town in expense and otherunpleasant consequences. Besides, it was known he had strong friendsin influential families, who would not permit him to be wronged orquietly see the least of his rights invaded. The curiosity of theplace, therefore, was obliged to content itself with surmises, and towait until some more favorable period for its gratification.

  The time of the year had now arrived when Holden was wont to showhimself more than usually restless and excitable. He had beenwandering one day since early in the morning, shooting partridges andsquirrels, until late in the afternoon he found himself at the Fallsof the Yaupaae. This was for him a favorite place of resort, andhere, stretched on the ground, he would lie for hours, with his eyesfastened on the foaming water, listening to the cataract's roar, asif it soothed his humor. Holden threw himself on the moss thatexuberantly covers the rocks, and essayed the spell. But this time, invain. He lay but a moment, when, starting up, he seized the rifle hehad laid aside, and making a considerable detour, in order to reach asmall bridge higher up the stream, he crossed it, and pursued his wayto the village.

  Holden, notwithstanding he had lived so long in the vicinity andhad often been in the village, never made his appearance withoutattracting attention. The little boys and girls, and even theirelders, seldom passed him without turning to look again. Thesingularity of his dress, and fine tall person, as straight as hisrifle, and a beard, that waved like a prophet's, on his breast, wouldhave commanded observation anywhere. Joined to this was an air ofdignity and gravity that, in spite of the coarseness of his apparel,insured respect. However much the rude and vulgar might feel disposedto insult, they were too much awed by his presence to attempt it. Theymight speak disrespectfully, indeed, of him in his absence, but beforehim they were cowed and mute. The mystery, besides, with which theirimaginations surrounded him, invested him with a power the greater,perhaps, on account of its indefiniteness. They forgot in gazingat him, that his only means of living they were acquainted with wasderived from the sale of the oysters and fish he caught in the river,and of the large baskets he made with his own hands. The meanness ofthe occupation was lost sight of when they saw his majestic appearanceand heard the grand tones of his deep voice.

  Holden proceeded down the street, hardly recognizing--though such wasnot his wont--the friendly greetings with which he was sainted by manythat passed, until he arrived opposite the house of Mr. Armstrong.Here his progress was arrested by a tap on a window, and looking uphe saw the bright face of Miss Armstrong, who was beckoning to him.He stopped; the face disappeared to re-appear at the door, and Faithinvited him to come in. He hesitated, but the irresolution was onlymomentary, for instantly he turned and entered the house.

  "I doubted," he said, "whether it were right to inflict the gloom ofan old man on one so young. What have age and despondency in commonwith youth and happiness?"

  "But you do not doubt my sympathy? Is there anything I would not do tomake you happy, Father Holden?"

  "No. I trust in thee as a parent in his child. Thou art as incapableof deception as the heavens of a stain. I have known thee, Faith,since thou wast a child, and thou hast always had an influence overme. As the notes of the youthful harper of Israel scared away thedemons from the bosom of Saul, so do the tones of thy voice thrillme like a melody from the past. So tell me of thyself and of all thatconcerns thee, so far, at least, as thou canst impart thy thoughts andfeelings to one like me."

  "The subjects that engage the attention of a young woman can havelittle interest for you, father."

  "Believe it not. Though my heart be sore, it has not lost all itsearlier feelings."

  "I cannot speak of myself," said Faith. "My life has been toodestitute of incident to deserve mention, and it is already known toyou."

  "What callest thou life? Is it," he continued, fixing his eyes on thecarpet, and speaking in a low tone, "the few gasps that agitate thebosom here? If that were all, it were of but little more consequencethan any other sigh. But this is only the beginning. It is thelighting of the spark that shall blaze a glorious star, or burn alurid conflagration for ever." He stopped; he raised his eyes to theface of Faith, whose own were fastened on him, and gazed fondly onher; his features assumed a softened expression; and, as if a newtrain of thought had driven out the old, he added, "blessed are thepure in heart, for they shall see God."

  Apparently, these exclamations affected Faith with no surprise. Shehad probably listened to similar conversations, and simply replied:

  "Who shall say his heart is pure?"

  "If not thou, then none. Sad thought, that the poisoned tongue of thesnake in Eden, should taint even a being so fair as thou."

  "Father," said Faith, who was desirous of changing a conversationwhich began to be embarrassing, for to such ejaculations it wasimpossible to return reasonable answers, "do you love the loneliness,of your island as much as ever? Would it not be more prudent to passthe winter months in the village?"

  "Thou art not the only one whose kindness hath asked the question.But, in my youth I learned to love solitude, though it was forced onme in the beginning. The dungeon and the chain introduced me to itsacquaintance; yet, such is the kindness of Providence, that, what atfirst I hated, I afterwards learned to love. Know, too, that I havelived in the boundless forest, until an inhabited street cramps mybreast and stifles my breath; nor am I ever less alone than when alonewith God. Ask me not, then, though thy intentions be kind, to renouncea mode of life which habit hath made a second nature."

  "Tell me of your adventures."

  "Hold! Wouldst thou hear of a youth blasted by unkindness; ofprostrate hopes, and scenes of revenge and horror? Nay, thou knowestnot what thou askest."

  "It was not thro
ugh mere curiosity I made the request. Those who loveyou would willingly know more, that they may be the better able topromote your welfare."

  "The motive," said Holden, taking her hand, and holding it an instant,"is kind, my child; but what purpose would it serve? The time willcome when the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed: then let thestory of my crimes and wrongs be blazoned to the world."

  Faith attached little credence to confessions of crimes which Holdenintimated he had committed. Had she done so, she might have felt alarmat being thus alone with him. But his presence, so far from inspiringher with terror, had something unaccountable of attraction. Hisself-accusation she considered exaggerations of a morbid fancy thatconverted common errors into unpardonable sins. Hers was a charitythat could think no evil, and in her imagination she had long sinceformed a theory that, to her pure mind, made him an object ofdeep interest. In Holden she saw a man of superior endowments andbreeding--his manners and language so far above those of most aroundher, proved both; who, by undeserved misfortunes had partially losthis reason, and, like the stricken deer, left the herd to die alone.Sometimes she would fill up the picture with scenes from his supposedlife, at one time of one character, and at another time of another;but they were merely sports of the Imagination, changing figures of akaleidoscope which employed without satisfying the mind. Of the truthof her general hypothesis she was quite convinced, nor without hopethat her old friend would be restored to society and the positionwhich she considered his due. As children instinctively know thosewho love them, so must Holden have originally had some idea of thefeelings of Faith, and by it been drawn closer to her. Certainly,there was no one in whose society he took more pleasure, or whom hewas more desirous to please.

  At this stage of the conversation, the door opened, and Mr. Armstrongentered. He advanced to Holden, whose hand he took, and welcomed withmuch cordiality. It was no new thing for him to see the Recluse inhis parlor. His daughter's partiality he well knew, of course; andalthough, in his opinion, it was somewhat extraordinary that a younglady should be attracted by Holden, he accounted for the circumstanceby ascribing it to the romance in her nature, of which she had nocommon share.

  The contrast was strong betwixt the appearance of the two men. Onthe one hand, in perfect harmony with the adornment of the handsomeparlor, stood the delicate person of Mr. Armstrong, with cropped hairand close-shaven face, in a suit of fine black cloth and muslin cravatof spotless white, representing a refined, perhaps enervated phase ofcivilization; on the other, the stately and vigorous form of Holden,in a clean but coarse gray frock, girt around the waist with a sash,with long hair falling on his neck, and unshorn beard, looking likeone better acquainted with the northern blast than with the comfortsof curtains and carpets.

  "It is not often, brother Holden," said Mr. Armstrong, addressing himby an epithet sometimes applied to him, "that I am so fortunate as tomeet you in my house."

  "Dost thou speak from the heart, James Armstrong," replied Holden, "orart thou flattering me with empty conventionalities?"

  The melancholy face of Mr. Armstrong looked distressed, but,remembering the wayward humor of the other, he gently answered:

  "I am sorry the form of expression displeases you; but I assure you Iam glad to see you."

  "Nay," said Holden, "let me rather beg pardon for my rudeness; andthat I fully believe thee, be my presence here the proof. I owe theemany obligations through thy daughter, and there are times when itdoes me good to be with her. It is then I fancy I hear in her voicethe tones of the long lost, and they come not with a wail of sorrow,but like a welcome and an invitation."

  "The lost!" softly said Armstrong, falling insensibly, and as by somemesmeric process, into a corresponding train of feeling, "the lost!how soon drop away from our sides those who made the morning of lifeso pleasant!"

  "Man is born to trouble, as the sparks fly upward," said Holden. "Hecometh from the womb of darkness, and returneth thither again."

  The two men drew their chairs nearer each other. It seemed as if a newcommunity of thought and feeling had been established between them.

  "You have suffered," said Armstrong, "perhaps lost all your dear ones,and, in that, more miserable than I; for, have I not left my Faith?But the hand that inflicted the wound can heal, and I trust the balmhas been poured in."

  The countenance of Holden was agitated; his lips trembled, and, in abroken voice, he replied:

  "The nearest and dearest are gone. Yet hath God left me some comfortin my affliction. I am not entirely bereft."

  "In the promises of the Holy Scriptures you find consolation. Happythe soul that draws comfort from their sacred pages!"

  "I meant not entirely so. But it avails not now to explain. Yet artthou right. I do find in the precious Book my dearest hope. Withoutit, I were miserable indeed."

  "And it sustains you under every trial and temptation?"

  "Assuredly. For that very purpose was it given, that man might notsink under the mystery of existence; that in its pages he should findhope."

  "And you find in it the warrant of your salvation?"

  "I strive to work out my salvation, with fear and trembling."

  "There are many who strive to enter, who shall not be able. How mayone be assured of safety?"

  "There is a justification by faith. Hast thou never tasted of itssweetness?"

  "Alas! no," exclaimed Armstrong. "I have prayed for it, and longed forit in vain. The threatenings of the Gospel and not its promises aremine."

  "Father, dear father, how can you speak so wildly?" cried hisdaughter, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his palecheek.

  He looked at her a moment, then putting her away, gently, againaddressed Holden:

  "Have you no word of comfort for me?"

  "Faint not; neither be tired of well-doing," answered Holden, "and Idoubt not that the cloud which now concealeth the divine countenancewill depart, and thou shalt attain the peace that passethunderstanding."

  "Have you attained it? Do you know what it is to be justified byfaith?"

  "I have that blessed experience," cried the enthusiast. "Those whom Hecalled He justified. I am a brand plucked from the burning--a monumentof abounding mercy."

  "Tell me, then," exclaimed Armstrong, "what are the signs by which itmay be known?" He said this eagerly, and with an air of the intensestinterest.

  "I feel it," cried Holden, rising and standing before him, "in thehatred that I bear towards all that conflicts with His will; in thelove with which I read His word; in the willingness to suffer allthings for the glory of His name, and to be damned for ever, if suchbe His purpose; I feel it in that, through His grace, I can tramplethe world under foot, and bear whatever cross His decree imposes; inthe struggle and the aspiration to be more like Him, and in that Hissovereign grace hath chosen me to reveal unto me His salvation and theknowledge of His speedy coming."

  It is impossible to convey an adequate idea of the manner in whichthis was spoken. Words cannot describe the voice, or paint the wildgleams of enthusiasm that, like lightning-flashes, coursed each otherover the features of Holden, as, without a gesture, and immovable as arock, an image of undoubting confidence, he delivered himself of thisextraordinary speech. Nor, carried away by its impassioned utterance,were either Armstrong or his daughter aware of its full fanaticism.But the impression made upon the two was somewhat diverse, and markedhow differently the chords of their minds were tuned. With all herreverence for the Enthusiast, Faith could not hear his wild avowalwithout pain, notwithstanding it was stamped with all the honesty ofconviction, and her own creed taught that such a degree of spiritualelevation might be attained; while her father listened with a sadadmiration, not unmixed with self-abasement and almost envy.

  After a pause, Armstrong said: "If such are the evidences ofjustification and a saving faith, then have I had them, too; but whybring they to me no confidence or holy joy? Why is my soul cast down,and why do I feel like one who stumbles towards a pit? Alas! my fleshquivers
and my heart trembles at the thought of falling into Hishands."

  "It is prayer that opens heaven," said Holden. "If thou wilt, we willunite our hearts in supplication. Peradventure the Lord may send ablessing."

  A mute assent was the reply from Armstrong; the three knelt downtogether, and Holden poured out a prayer, into which he concentratedhis glowing feelings. He described themselves as covered all over withcrimes, like a leprosy; as willful and determined rebels; as not onlyunworthy of the least of God's mercies, of the warm sun and refreshingrain, but deserving of the torments of the bottomless pit; butentreated that, devoid of all merit, as they were, and justly exposedto His wrath, their aggravated offences might be pardoned for the sakeof One who had taken their burden upon Himself, and that they mightbe of the number of the elect, whom the foreordination of God hadpredestined to salvation. He concluded with beseeching that the balmof peace might be poured into his afflicted brother's heart, that hisears might be opened to hear the truth, and his eyes to see how nearwas the great and terrible day of the Lord, and that, as in ancientdays chosen women were raised up to do mighty works, even so Faithmight be made an instrument to proclaim His power abroad.

  As the three rose from their knees, a change seemed, during theprayer, to have passed over the little circle. Holden was investedwith an authority not felt before. Neither his speech nor dress was asstrange as formerly. He had become a teacher to be honored. It was theinfluence of a mind originally powerful, and which, though shattered,exercised the control of a strong will, guided by an earnestfanaticism.