THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OB, THE MISSING BRIDE. BY MRS, EMMA D. E. N. SOUTHWOKTH, AUTHOR OP " A BEAUTIFUL FIEND," " FAIR PLAT," " HOW HE WON HER," " RETRIBUTION," " THE CHANGED BRIDES," " THE BRIDE'S FATE," " WIDOW'S SON," " A NOBLE LORD," "IHJB ARTIST'S LOVE," "CRUEL AS THE GRAVE," "TRIED FOR HER LIFE," "ALL WORTH ABBEY," "LOST HEIRESS," "FORTUNE SEEKER," "VIVIA," "THE LADY OF THE ISLE," "FAMILT DOOM," "HAUNTED HOMESTEAD," " CURSE OF CLIFTON," " VICTOR'S TRIUMPH," " GIPSY'S PROPHECY," " FALLEN PRIDE," " TWO SISTERS," " THREE BEAUTIES " "BRIDAL EVE," "WIFE'S VICTORY," "MAIDEN WIDOW," "FATAL MARRIAGE," "PRINCE OF DARKNESS," " DESERTED WIFE," " LOVE'S LABOR WON," "THE DISCARDED DAUGHTER," "INDIA," "THE LOST HEIR OF LINLITHGOW," " CHRISTMAS QUEST," ETC., ETC. *Se ccfimed her fears, and she was calm, And breathed her vows with virgin pride; And so fie won his Miriam, His bright and beauteous bridef 1 Now is it not a pity such a merry girl as 1, Should be. sent to a nunnery to pine, away and die?" PHILADELPHIA: T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS; 306 CHESTNUT STREET. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. 0. MRS. EMMA D. E. K SOUTHWORTH'S WORKS Each Work is complete in one large Duodecimo Volume. MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; or, THE MISSING BRIDE. VICTOR'S TRIUMPH. A Sequel to "A Beautiful Fiend." A BEAUTIFUL FIEND; or, THROUGH THE FIRE. FAIR PLAY; OR, THE TEST OF THE LONE ISLE. HOW HE WON HER. A Sequel to "Fair Play." THE FATAL MARRIAGE. THE LOST HEIR OF LINLITHGOW. THE ARTISTS LOVE. CRUEL AS THE GRAVE. THE CHANGED BRIDES. TEE BRIDE 1 S FATE. A Sequel to "The Changed Brides." TRIED FOR HER LIFE. A Sequel to "Cruel as the Grave." TlfE BRIDE OF LLEWELLYN. THE GIPSY'S PROPHECY. THE FORTUNE SEEKER. THE LOST HEIRESS. THE CHRISTMAS GUEST. THE THREE BEAUTIES. THE WIDOW'S SON. THE BRIDAL EVE. A NOBLE LORD. Sequel to "The Lost Heir of -Linlithgow." THE FAMILY DOOM; or, THE SIN OF A COUNTESS. THE MA ID EN W1D W. Sequel to ' ' The Family Doom. ' ' THE HAUNTED HOMESTEAD. LOVE'S LABOR WON. LADY OF THE ISLE. THE WIFE'S VICTORY. THE DESERTED WIFE. ALL WORTH ABBEY. FALLEN PRIDE; OR, THE MOUNTAIN GIRL'S LOVE. INDIA ; OR, THE PEARL OF PEARL RIVER. VIVIA; OR, THE SECRET OF POWER. THE CURSE OF CLIFTON. THE DISCARDED DAUGHTER. THE MOTHER-IN-LAW. THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS. THE TWO SISTERS. RETRIBUTION. Price of each, $1.75 in Cloth ; or $1.50 in Paper Cover. Above books are for sale by all Booksellers. Copies of any one or all of the above books, will be sent to any one, to any place, postage pre-paid, on receipt of their price by the Publishers, T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, 306 CHESTNUT STREET, PHILADELPHIA, PA. PS 2m 01 CONTENTS. yv* / rj / 21 CHAPTER FAGB xxxiv. SANS Souci ? s LAST FUN, 462 \ND STORM, 477 CONTENTS. 'PART FIKST. CHAPTEB PAGE I. LUCKENOTJGH, 23 ii. THE FLIGHT, 29 in. THE ATTACK, 47 iv. YOUNG AMERICA IN 1814, 61 v. EDITH'S LOVE, 70 vi. EDITH'S TROUBLES, 83 PART SECOND. VH. SANS Souci, 92 vin. THE BLIGHTED HEART, 113 ix. MARIAN, 124 x. HOUSEKEEPING AT OLD FIELD COTTAGE, 136 xi. THE MAY BLOSSOM, 144 xii. OUR FAY, 152 xm. SANS Souci's FIRST GRIEF, 166 (19) 1592781 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. r-AGB MRS. EMMA D, E. N. SOUTHWORT TJ? * ^ Each Work is complete in one lar-e n 177 xv ."THE FOREST FAIRY, 195 xvi. THE MOCK-TOURNAMENT, 211 xvn. THE SPRITE IN THE CONVENT, 220 xviii. APPARITION IN THE DORMITORY, 231 xix. DOCTOR GRIMSHAW, 242 xx. CLIPPING A BIRD'S WINGS, 255 xxi. A GRIM WEDDING, 280 PART FOURTH. xxii. DELL-DELIGHT, 291 xxin. MARIAN, THE INSPIRER, 297 xxiv. LOVE, 310 xxv. FOREST WALKS, 323 xxvi. CLOUDY, 341 xxvn. THE FAIRY BRIDE, 346 xxviii. THE BRIDE OF AN HOUR, 359 xxix. GOLDEN OPINIONS, 382 xxx. SPRING AND LOVE, 400 xxxi. THAT NIGHT, 416 xxxii. THE VILLAGE POSTMISTRESS THE INTER- CEPTED LETTER, 434 xxxin. ONE OF SANS Souci's TRICKS, 450 PS CONTENTS. M / 7/ 2 ! CHAPTEB PAGE xxxiv. SANS Souci's LAST FUN, 462 xxxv. NIGHT AND STORM, 477 xxxvi. THE BODY ON THE BEACH, 487 xxxvn. MARIAN, 505 xxxvm. NEW LIFE, 517 PART FIFTH. xxxix. THURSTON, 524 XL. MIRIAM, 535 XLI. DREAMS AND VISIONS, 543 XLH. DISCOVERIES, 553 XLIII. INDICTMENT, 571 XLIV. MARIAN, 599 XLV. THE TRIAL, 614 XL vi. REUNION, . . .629 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, THE MISSING BRIDE. PART FIRST. CHAPTER I. LUCKENOUGH. DEEP, in the primeval forest of St. Mary's, lying between the Patuxent and the "Wicomico rivers, stands the sncienO manor house of Luckenongh. The traditions of the neighborhood assert the origin of the manor, and its quaint, happy, and not unmusical name to have been briefly this That the founder of Luckenough was Alexander Kalouga, a Polish soldier of fortune,] some time in the service of Cecilius Oalvert, Baron of Baltimore, first Lord Proprietary of Mary- land. This man had, previous to his final emigration to the Now World, passed through a life of the most wonderful vicis- situdes wonderful even for those days of romance and adven- ture. It was said that he was born in one quarter of the globe, educated in another, initiated into warfare in the third, and buried in the fourth. In his boyhood he was the friend and pupil of Guy Fawkes, he engaged in the gunpowder plot, and after witnessing the terrible fate of his master, he escaped to Spanish America, where he led, for years, a sort of buccaneer (23) 24 MIEIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, life. He afterwards returned to Europe, and then followed years of military service wherever bis hireling sword was needed. But the soldier of fortune was ill-paid by his mistress. His misfortunes were as proverbial as his bravery, or as his en- ergetic complaints of "ill luck" could make them. He had drawn his sword in almost every quarrel of his time, on every battle field in Europe, to find himself, at the end of his military career, no richer than he was at its beginning save in wounds and scars, honor and glory, and a wife and son. It was at this point of his life that he met with Leonard Calvert, and em- barked with him for Maryland, where he afterwards received from the Lord Proprietary the grant of the manor "aforesaid." It is stated that when the old soldier went with some com- panions to take a look at his new possessions, he was so pleased with the beauty, grandeur, richness and promise of the place, that a glad smile broke over his dark, storin-beaten, battle- scarred face, and he remained still "smiling as in delighted visions," until one of his friends spoke, and said, " Well, comrade 1 Is this luck enough ?" "Yaw, mine frient !" answered the new lord of the manor, in his broken English, cordially grasping the hand of his com- panion, "dish ish lake enough /" Different constructions have been put upon this simple answer ' first, that Lukkinnuf was the original Indian name of the tract ; secondly, that Alexander Kalouga christened his manor in honor of Loekenoff, the native village of his wife, the heroic Marie Zelenski, the companion of all his campaigns and >-oyages, and the first lady of his manor; thirdly, that the grateful and happy soldier had only meant to express his per- fee. satisfaction with his fortune, and to say, " Yes, this is luck enough 1 luck enough to repay me for all the past !" Be it as it may, from time immemorial the place has been "Luckenough." The manor comprises several hundred acres of cleared land, and a considerable portion of the surrounding forest. THE MISSING BRIDE. 25 Of the magnificence of that old forest, of the gigantic growth of its timber, the fabulous size of some of its trees, the hoary grandeur of its rocks, the lovely beauty of its rivulets, the mystic depth of its caverns, the impenetrable labyrinths of ita thickets, (where never a human foot fell,] of the luxuriant ex- cbcrance of happy animal life, flourishing, increasing, and en- joying existence undisturbed by man of all these bewildering glories of nature in the old forest, it is pleasanter to dream than to tell No poet or artist ever trod those solitudes, or he would have- been bewildered with the richness of the subject. Deep soiled, heavily wooded, and well watered, the manor of Luckenough is one of the richest in old Maryland. Shut in by the encompassing forest, and approachable only by the worst of roads, it is completely isolated from the neighboring plantations. As you enter upon the manor by one of these roads after passing here and there several broad fields of wheat, tobacco and corn, situated in the occasional clearings you finallj emerge from the forest and find yourself in a comparatively open space, and before a collection of massive buildings of dark, red color, irregular in form and size, and thickly interspersed and overshadowed with titanic oak and elm trees. The place looks like a woodland village charmed into repose it is the group of the manor-house, offices, barns, granaries, stables, and negro quarters of Luckenough. In the background, and all around, you see the encompassing forest again. There are orchards and gardens and broad fields of grain behind, such as you passed in coming, but they are so hidden by the many in- tervening trees, that you can only catch an occasional glimpse of them to assure you that it is not in Arcadia, or before a castle cf Indolence, but upon a Maryland plantation, that you stand. There is no conservatory and no flower garden near the house. The shade is too thick there for anything but grass to thrive. You enter the lawn by a massive but decayed gate on tha 26 MIBIAM, THE AVENGER; OK, right, and go around a shaded semi-circular avenue that leads you up in front of the mansion. A charmed air of stillness and silence pervades the place, for the negroes are all absent in the fields, the master is asleep over last month's newspaper, and the mistress is with her maids in the back spinning-room. The house fronts north ; it is built of the darkest red bricks, and is three stories high, with a very steep roof, broken into three gables front and back, and one at each end an old fashioned, fantastical style of architecture highly favorable to leakages, as the attic and the upper cham- bers of Luckenough can testify. The three front gables are perforated by three dormer windows, under which come, in a perpendicular line, the windows of the lower stories. The cen- tral gable is the smallest, though its row of windows is the largest, for they light the spacious passages, that on every floor run through the house from front to back, dividing the east from the west chambers. The principal entrance occupies the centre of the front of the house. Above it is a stone scroll, built into the wall, and bearing in old English characters, half effaced, this inscription "A. K. 1644. Will is Fate." By which you may know that at this time the old house has stood the storms of two hundred winters. The portico is more modern and ruder than any part of the building, in fact it is quite unworthy the old mansion, being nothing more than a rough oak porch put up by a country carpenter, to replace the old one, and shade the front door. You ascend by a few rough Bteps, and stand upon the threshold. And there you m&y woll pause, for the door is wide open, and there is no sen ant in attendance. It is a wide passage that you see before you, with a door open at the farther end, through which you notice the back lawn, with linen bleaching on the grass, and trees, and a part of the garden fence. The hall is flanked each side by dooru leading into various apartments, and the left of the centre is occupied by the staircase. Placed against the wall, in a line with the foot of the staircase, is a painted wooden settee, and THE MISSING BRIDE. 27 there, sound asleep, this summer day, is the master ; the old rellow newspaper he has just been reading, laid over his head- The powerful draught of air drawn by the opposite open doors flutters the paper upon his face, but he does not wake. A lazj black and white mastiff lying at full length under the settee. crawls out and s*uffs at you, and having satisfied himself by the smell that you are an honest stranger, if not an acquaint- ance, he goes and lies down again, and the stillness remains unbroken. Yet, if you like, you need not fear to break the spell of silence by waking the thunders of that old brass griffin that forms the knocker of the open door, for were you a travel- ing wooden nutmeg vender, lecturer, pedlar, or any other sort of peripatetic nuisance, you would still be a welcome and an honored guest at Luckenough, for everything is welcome that breaks the dull monotony of still life I had nearly said stagnant life there. So isolated, indeed, was the manor, that for generations the owners seemed to consider it the very centre of things created Q the capital of civilization, and to sneer at all beyond the forest as mere "outside barbarians. "J I will not say but that they might admit the neighboring little port of B , and the city of Baltimore, to be useful appendages to Luckenough created for the convenience of the masters of Luckenough, seeing that they were necessary to the shipping and sale of to- bacco, wheat and corn, the staple productions of Luckenough. Now if you ask whether the men of the family never were forced into the world of business, or if the youths never were sent to college, and so learned to modify the exaggerated exotism of their 'race, I answer no. The head of the family usually effected his sales and made his purchases through hia B agent, a shrewd, long-headed trader, who did business with several important mercantile houses in Baltimore, ai.d was little likely to cross the self-conceit of his most pron'table pa- tron. And as for the young men of the house they never went farther into the world for their education than the neighboring academy of C , ai Did and well established classical and 28 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, mathematical school, founded by the planters for the benefit ol their sons but not well calculated to prune the pride of th proudest among them for even there the boys of Luckenough assumed to be lords paramount of their schoolmaster. And if any member of the family, by a rare chance, went upon his tra vels, he was sure to pass through the world the same self-centred, self-satisfied, isolated creature, iand to return as he went, un- improved. The community around Luckenough certainly con- spired to foster the haughtiness of that family. For in almost every country there is one great estate so pre-eminent in size, value and importance, as to be an enduring object of interest and speculation to the community, and to clothe its owner with rather an undue authority in all agricultural, commercial, po- litical, and other questions of the neighborhood. And Luck- enough and its proprietors had enjoyed this evil distinction since the days of its foundation. A host of dependants needy relations also, contributed to cultivate this spirit of self-importance in the head of the house. And never was Irish tribe more prolific, or Scotch clan more united, as a family. It had been the custom of the masters of Luckenough, from the time of its ambitious founder, to be- queath the undivided landed estate to the eldest son or failing gons to the eldest daughter and to portion off the other children with moderate legacies of money or personal property, sufficient, had they been of an industrious, frugal, and enterpris- ing race to start them fairly in life ; but being what they were proud, indolent and hopeless, it was not always enough to keep them in decent poverty/; Hence the purse of the proprietor of Luckenough was often called into requisition, and never in rain ; for any expense would have been readily met by the head of the family, rather than the mortification of seeing one of its members in the poor house or the prison. So generation after generation vegetated the dull family of Luckeiiough every son more hopelessly thick-headed and self- sat'sfied than his father before him, and living on because they had net life enough to die or in other worda, lasting because THE MISSING BRIDE. 29 Ihe calm, depressed tone of their constitutions and conditions never at any time made draft enough upon the vital powers, to weaken or exhaust them. Thus year after year vegetated 01 the dull family of Luckenough, until in the fullness of time, in the year of grace 1814, the stagnant pool of their existence was Stirred by " something different from the wing of a descending angel," and the dull monotony of its history was developed into a startling romance the first chapter of which is the chapter next succeeding. CHAPTER II. THE FLIGHT. "Ah! then and there was hnrrying to and fro, And mounting in hot haste!" Byrvn. THE owner of Luckenough at this time was Commodore Nickolas Waugh, who inherited the property in right of his mother, the only child and heiress of Peter Kalouga. This man had the constitution and character, not of his mo- ther's, but of his father's family a hardy, rigorous, energetic Montgomery race, full of fire, spirit and enterpriser At the age of twelve, Nickolas lost his father. At fifteen, he began to weary of the tedium of Luckenough, varied only by the restraint of the academy during term. And at sixteen he rebelled against the rule of his indolent lym- phatic mamma, broke through the reins of domestic govern* mint, escaped to Baltimore, and shipped as cabin boy in a merchantman. I said that he inherited the constitution of his father's fa- in ily ; yet one might fancy by his career from the time of his taking to the sea, that the spirit of old Alexander Kalouga bad revisited the ear*h in the form of a descendant. 30 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, Nickolas Waugh went through many adventures, served on board merchantmen, privateers, and haply pirates too, sailed to every part of the known world, and led a wild, reckless and sinful life, until the breaking out of the revolutionary War. when he took service with Paul Jones, the American Sea King, and turned the brighter part of his character up to the light. lie performed miracles of valor achieved for himself a name and a post-captain's rank in the infant navy, and finally was permitted to retire with a bullet lodged under his shoulder blade, a piece of silver trepanned in the top of his skull, a deep sword-cut across his face from the right temple over his nose to the left cheek and with the honorary title of Commodore. He was a perfect beauty about this time, no doubt, but that did not prevent hiir from receiving the hand of his cousin, Henrietta Kalouga, who had waited for him many a weary year. No children blessed his late marriage, and as year after year passed, until himself and his wife were well stricken in years, people, who never lost interest in the great estate, began to wonder to which among his tribe of impoverished relations, Nickolas Waugh would bequeath the manor of Luckenough. His choice fell at length upon his orphan grand-niece, tno beautiful Edith Lance, whom he took from the Catholic Orphan Asylum, where she had found refuge since the death of her parents, and placed in one of the best Convent schools in the south. At the age of seventeen, Edith was brought home from school, and established, at Luckenough, as the adopted daugh- ter and acknowledged heiress of her uncle. Delicate, dreamy and retiring, and tinged with a certain pen- siveness, the effect of too much early sorrow and seclusion upon \ a very sensitive temperament, Edith better loved the solitude of the grand old forest of St. Mary's, or the loneliness of her own shaded rooms at Luckenough, than any society the hum- drum neighborhood could offer her. And when at tbc call of social duty she did go into company, she exercised"* refining and subduing influence, involuntary as it was potent, j THE MISSING BEIDE. 31 There was one social amusement, however, that Edith really did like to favor. That was the annual ball at the C aca- temy, given by the students at the commencement, and patron- ized by their sisters, cousins, and young friends, male and female I These were rather juvenile parties, though parents, guardians *nd the professors attended, to give the sanction of their pre^ sence. Edith was the star of these assemblies, and the queen of every mother's darling there. All the students worshipped her with that pure, passionate enthusiasm that only school boys or poets know and feel. And Edith I know not what harsh usage during her orphanage had given her a shy heart towards her elders and equal in age, but Edith preferred the society of those younger than herself, and she liked the frank, warm- hearted college lads, as if they had been her brothers. And if there were " bad boys" among them, she did not find it out, for such never came within her sphere, or if by chance any did, they became ameliorated. Edith's nature and the style of her beauty was very refined. Her form was of medium size and perfect symmetery. Her beautiful head sat upon her falling shoulders. Her complex- ion was of the purest semi-transparent fairness seen in the white sea-shell. Her forehead was shaded by fine, silky, black ringlets, so light as to be lifted by every breeze, and throw wavering soft shadows upon her pearly cheeks. Her eyes were long-shaped, dark, veiled and drooping her countenance the most dreamy and spiritual you ever saw. Her beautiful bust was daintily curved, and her graceful limbs delicately rounded and tapering. Her hands and feet were perfect. She affected the beholder with the idea of extreme delicacy, sensitiveness aiid refinement./ Yet in that lovely, fragile form, in that /dreaming, poetical soul, lay, undeveloped, a latent power of heroism, soon to be aroused into action/] " Darling of all hearts and eyes," Edith bad been at home a year when the- war of 1812 broke out. Maryland, as usual, contributed her large proportion of vo. 32 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, luntecrs to the defence of the country. All men capable of bearing arms, rapidly mustered into companies, and hastened to put themselves at the disposal of the government. The lower counties of Maryland were left comparatively un- protected. Old men, women, children and negroes were all that remained in charge of the farms and plantations. Yet remote from the scenes of conflict, and hitherto undisturbed by the convulsions of the great world, they reposed in fancied safety, and never thought of such unprecedented misfortune as the evils of the war penetrating to their quiet homes. But their rest of security was broken by a tremendous shock. The British fleet, under Admiral Sir A. Cochrane, suddenly entered the Chesapeake And the quiet, lonely shores of the bay became the scene of a warfare scarcely paralleled in atro- city in ancient or modern times. Its defenceless villages wid namlets were suddenly run down upon, sacked, burned to the ground, and the unresisting inhabitants put to the sword. Farms and plantations shared the same fate. Dwelling houses, barns and granaries were set on fire, and burned to ashes, and the owners and their families massacred in cold blood, and the negroes driven off at the point of the bayonet to the ships of the marauders, there to be drilled in military exercises and afterwards armed against their own masters. Everywhere the enemy tried to excite the slaves to revolt, and threatened to add the ghastly horrors of a servile insurrection to the accumulated evils of war. The most horrible crimes that ever blackened the souls of the most atrocious pirates, could not exceed in enormity the deeds done by these licensed buccaneers, under the guise of civilized warfare. It seemed as if in their case human nature had, with headlong recklessness, abandoned itself to the most violent and fiendish passions of cruelty, rapacity and sensuality If among this marauding band of licensed pirates and assas- lins there was one name more dreaded, more loathed and ac- tursed than the rest, it was that of the brutal and ferocious Thorg the "-equent leader of foraging parties, the unsparing THE MISSING I? R I D E. 33 destroyer of womanhood, infancy and age, the jackal and pur- veyor of Admiral Cockburn. If anywhere there was a beau- tiful woman unprotected, or a rich plantation house ill-defended, this jackal was sure to scent out " the game" for his master, the lion. And many were the comely maidens and youthfu) wires seized and carried off by this monster. The Patuxent and the Wicomico, with the coast between them, offered no strong temptation to a rapacious foe and the inhabitants reposed in the fancied security of their isolation and unimportance. The business of life went on, faintly and Eorrowfully, to be sure, but still went on. The village shops at B and C were kept open, though tended chiefly by women and boys. The academicians, at the little college, pur- sued their studies, or played at forming juvenile military com- panies. The farms and plantations were cultivated chiefly under the direction of ladies, whose husbands, sons and bro- thers were absent with the army. No one thought of danger to St. Mary's. Most terrible was the awakening from this dream of safety, when, on the morning of the 17th of August, the division under the command of Admiral Cockburn the most dreaded and abhorred of all was seen to enter the mouth of the Pa- tuxent in full sail for Benedict. Nearly all the able-bodied men were, as I said, absent with the army at the time when the com- bined military and naval forces, under Admiral Cockburn and General Ross, landed at that place. None remained to guard the homes, but aged men, women, infants and negroes. A universal panic seized the neighborhood, and nothing oc- curred to the defenceless people but instant flight. Females and children were hastily put into carriages, the most valuable items of 'plate or money hastily packed up, negroes mastered, and the whole caravan put upon a hurried march for Prince George's, Montgomery, or other upper counties of the state. With very few exceptions, the farms and plantations were eva- cuated, and left to the mercy of the .nvaders. At sunrise, all was noise bt.stle and confusion at Luck- enough. 2 34 MIRIAM, T*H E AVENGER; OR, The lawn was filled with baggage wagons, horses, mules, cows, oxen, sheep, swine, baskets of poultry, barrels of provi- sions, boxes of property, and men and maid servants hurrying wildly about among them, carrying trunks and parcels, loading carts, tackling harness, marshaling cattle, and making other preparations for a rapid retreat towards Commodore Waugh'g patrimonial estate in Montgomery county. In the hall at Luckenough, the master strode up and down among corded trunks, and yelping dogs, and hurrying servants. He was a man of powerful size and weight, and formidable presence. He forcibly reminded one of a huge bull-dog, or rather, of the animal after which it is named. His great griz- zled head and beard, his enormous chest, huge, rounded shoul- ders, heavy limbs and measured tread, and a habit he had when vexed, of thrusting forward his head and bellowing forth a prolonged "Oh-h-h-h !" assuredly suggested the likeness. And as he strode up and down among his men, the old hall shook as at the tread of an elephant. Fierce shame had lent unusual energy to the old man's manner, and the transverse scar across his face glowed like a bar of red hot iron. Ill could the vete- ran of twenty battles brook this rapid retreat without even a meeting with the enemy. But well did the invalided soldier know that it would be sheer madness to remain and encounter the advancing army of the invaders. And so he strode up and down the hall, giving vent to his impatience by swearing at the terrified servants, and kicking the howling dogs. In the midst of this the back parlor door opened, and the mistress of the house came out into the hall. She was a hand- some woman for her age really fifty seeming forty with a fair, fat person, brown hair and brown eyes, fine teeth, much displayed in her frequent smiles, and white, plump neck and arms, often half uncovered for coolness. Now, however, she wore a close-fitted Nankeen pelisse. A Leghorn bonnet and veil completed her dress for travelling. She had strong health, calm nerves, a phlegmatic constitution, and an even, contented, cheerful temper It was these things that gave her such infiu- THE MISSING BRIDE. 35 cnce over her more excitable and impulsive companion. She, with her serene temperament and easy disposition, received thfl occasional onslaughts of the old soldier's violence very much as our troops at New Orleans, with their bales of cotton and wool, received the British cannonading, and with very much the same good effect. And now as she came out into the hall, her pre- sence acted like oil upon the waves it calmed the commotion. The old man turned towards her, and his countenance and his voice softened as he said " All ready so soon, Old Hen ! But where is Edith ?" "I don't know. I thought she was here," said Mistress Henrietta. "Here! no! and the sun half an hour high!" and the old man's voice began to rise with his temper, as he vociferated, loud enough to be heard at the remotest extremity of the house "Edith ! Edith ! where are you, you hussy ?" " Here I am, uncle," said a calm, musical voice, and Edith came out from an adjoining room. Her white, flowing wrapper, the slight, silky, black curls playing carelessly around the pearly forehead, the veiled and dreamy eyes, the abstracted look, and more than all, the little, red-bound volume she held in her hand, seemed so unready, so impractical, that it put the old soldier past all his patience. "Now will you look at that girl ! I say I want you all to look at her !" he exclaimed, turning around. " If upon this morning, also, she isn't poring over a book, when we are ready to start ! What is it you have got there, minx ?" "Marmion, sir." "Marmion! What in the fiend's name is that? Hand it here." Edith obeyed, and without looking at the book, he took it, and hurled it out into the lawn, exclaiming "There 1 Now did you ever know me to break my wora, Lussy ?" "No, sir." ' Very well, then ! go and get ready, and be sure if you an 36 MIRIAM, THE. AVENGER; OR, not here in ten minutes, we will set forward without you." And so saying, the old man set himself down upon the wooden settee, at the foot of the stairs, and took his watch out to note the time. Edith disappeared into her chamber. "I never saw such a wrong-headed, romantic fool! What Will ever become of her ? She'll come to a bad end, I'm afraid, With poring over the fetched books." " Oh, poor thing ! what can you expect F She's got no com- panions of her own age. She must amuse herself some way," said good Henrietta. " Oh-h-h ! companions of her own age !" roared the Com- modore, " what does she want with companions of her own age and why can't she amuse herself knitting stockings for the niggers, like you do ? I'll take and marry her to Professor Grimm, that's what I'll do ! And there'll be two book-worms to keep each other's company. I'll Oh, here she comes !" In half the specified time Edith returned, equipped for her journey, in her riding-dress and hat. " I am ready, uncle," she said, as she stood drawing on her gloves. " Well, then we'll set forward. I want to get as far as Horsehead this day, if possible. A d d mean, miserable dog I am, to be sneaking away from the enemy," growled the veteran, to himself. The doors opening into the hall were then locked. Edith was placed upon her pony, and attended by her old maid Jenny, and her old groom Oliver. Commodore and Mrs. Waugh entered the family carriage, which they pretty well filled up. Mrs. Waugh's woman sat upon the box behind, and the Commodore's man drove the coach. And the whole family party set forward on their journey. They went in advance of the caravan, so as not to be hindered and inconvenienced by its slow and cumbrous movements. A ride of three miles through the old forest, brought them to THE MISSING BRIDE. 37 the open, hilly country. Here the road forked. And here the family were to separate. It had been arranged that, as Edith was too deHcate to bear the forced march of days' and nights' continuance before the) could reach Montgomery, she should proceed to Hay Hill, a plantation near the line of Charles county, owned by Colonel Fan lie, whose young daughter, Fanny, recently made a bride, had been the schoolmate of Edith. Here, at the fork, the party halted to take leave. Commodore Waugh called his niece to ride up to the car- riage window, and gave her many messages for Colonel Fairlie, for Fanny, and for Fanny's young bridegroom, and many charges to be careful and prudent, and not to ride out unat- tended, &c. And then he called up the two old negroes, and charged them to see their young mistress safely at Hay Hill, and thec to return to Luckenough, and take care of the house and such things as were left behind, in case the British should not visit it, and to shut up the house after them in case they should come and rob it and leave it standing. Two wretched old negroes would be in little personal danger from the soldiers. So argued Commodore Waugh, as he took leave of them, and gave orders for the carriage to move on up the main branch of the road leading north, towards Prince George's and Montgomery. But so argued not the poor old negroes, as they followed Edith up the west branch of the road that led to Charles county. This pleasant road ran along the side of a purling brook, Tinder the shadow of the great trees that skirted the forest, and Edah ambled leisurely along, low humming to herself some pretty song, or listening to the merry carols of tue birds, or noticing the speckled fish that gamboled through the dark, glimmering stream, or reverting to the subject of her last reading. But beneath all this childish play of fancy, one grave, sor< 38 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, rowful thought lay heavy upon Edith's tender heart. It was the thought of poor old Luckenough, " deserted at its utmost need," to the ravages of the foe. Edith might have been as wrong-headed and romantic as her uncle accused her of being j for now the old mansion, that her heart clung to so fondly, seemed to take a personal character, and in the dumb eloquence of its loneliness and desertion, to reproach her. She thought, too, of her own particular nook at Luckenough, of her cherished books and pictures and musical instruments, and little statuettea of saints and angels and heroes and heroines, of her vases and boxes and baskets, and pretty toys of all sorts, not one of which dreaming Edith had removed in her hasty departure. And she thought of all the dear old spots and places about the building that she loved so well they seemed to her like members and features of some faithful friend, and she could not bear the thought of their destruction. Then came the question if it were not possible, in case of the house being attacked, to save it even for her to save it. Edith's visionary head was full of stories of heroic women, who had wrought miracles in the way of saving or destroying castles and fortified towns, or in pre- serving the lives of fathers, brothers, husbands, and children. And she remembered no single instance in which a woman had lost life, limb or honor in such an attempt. Whatever other women or men either might suffer at the hands of the enemy, these heroic women always came through triumphantly so Edith's reading showed, and she had no counter evidence. While these things were brewing in Edith's mind, she rode slowly and more slowly, until at length her pony stopped. Then she noticed, for the first time, the heavy, downcast looks of her attendants. " What is the matter ?" she asked. " Oh 1 Miss Edith, don't ask me, honey don't ! Ain't wo- iem got to go back to de house and stay dar by our two selves arter we see you safe ?" said Jenny, crying. " No 1 what ? you two alone I" exclaimed Edith, looking from one to the other THE MISSING BRIDE. 39 "Yes, Miss Edith, 'deed we has, chile but you needn't look so 'stonish and 'mazed. You can't help of it, chile. An' if de British do come dar, and burn de house, and heave we- dem into de fire jes' out of wanton, it'll ony be two poor, ole, nnvaluable niggers burned up. Ole marse know dat well enough dat's de reason he resks we." "But for what purpose have you to return?" asked Edith, wondering. " Oh I to feed de cattle and de poultry, and take care o' de things dat's lef behine," sobbed Jenny, no\v completely broken down by her terrors. "I know I jis does how dem white; niggers o' Co'bu'ns 'ill set de house o' fire, an' heave we-dem two poor old innocen's into de flames out'n pure debblish wan- ton 1" Edith passed her slender fingers through her curls, stringing them out as was her way when absent in thought. She was turning the whole matter over in her mind. She might possibly save the mansion, though these two old people were not likely to be able to do so on the contrary, their ludicrous terrors would tend to stimulate the wanton cruelty of the marauders to destroy them with the house. Edith suddenly took her resolu- tion, and turned her horse's head, directing her attendants to follow. " But where are you going to go, Miss Edith ?" asked her groom, Oliver, now speaking for the first time. "Back to Luckenough." " What for, Miss Edith, for goodness sake ?" "Back to Luckenough to guard the dear old house, and take care of you two." "But oh ; Miss Edy! Miss Edy! for Marster in Heaven's rake what'll 'come o' you ?" " What the Master in Heaven wills I" " Lord, Lord, Miss Edy ! ole marse 'ill kill we-dem. What all ole marso say ? What 'ill everybody say to a young gall a-doin' of anything like dat dar ? Oh, dear 1 dear I what will everybody say '" 40 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, "They will say," said Edith ; "if I meet the enemy and sa? the house they will say that Edith Lance is a heroine, and her name will be probably preserved in the memory of the neighbor- hood. But if I fail and lose my life, they will say that Editl was a cracked brained girl who deserved her fate, and that the) had always predicted she would come to a bad end." " Better go on to Hay Hill, Miss Edy ! 'Deed, 'fore marster, better go to Hay Hill." "No," said the young girl, "my resolution is taken we will return to Luckenough." The arguments of the old negroes waxed fainter and fewer. They felt a vague but potent confidence in Edith and her abilities, and a sense of protection in her presence, from which they were loth to part. The sun was high when they entered the forest shades again. " See," said Edith to her companions, " everything is so fresh and beautiful and joyous here ! I cannot even imagine danger." They reached Luckenough before noontide, and the two old people, with their hearts very much lightened and cheered, and encouraged by the presence of their young mistress, busied themselves with opening the house and making her comfortable, Oliver put away the horses, and went to the spring for cold water, and to the mound for ice. And Jenny opened the shutters in the young lady's room, helped her off with her riding-dress, put it away, and went and prepared dinner. Edith went out to look for her lost volume of Marmion, found it in the grass, brought it in, and threw herself upon the sofa to finish the poem. The summer day was so calm and cool, the forest home so silent and peaceful, Edith's own sensations so serene and sweety that (she did not realize the idea of danger. The day passed calmly und pleasantly. But when the evening shadows begun to fall darkly around the old house, Edith's heart grew faint and oppressed witk pro- ptetic terrors. Edith had acted suddenly, impulsively, from the warmth and generosity of aer own heart ; but had she done well and wisely ? THE MISSING BRIDE. 41 This was the question she asked herself. Many an enthusiast, before our girl, has acted iu haste to repent at leisure. Yet, a3 Edith looked upon the beloved old homestead that she was theie to try to save from destruction, and upon the faithful old servants that seemed so confident of safety in her presence, and who were doing everything in their power to prove their gratitude and sense of her goodness, she could not repent at all. If the act were to do over again, she would do it. After tea was over, Edith came out and sat upon the porch, to enjoy the coolness and quiet of the summer evening. The old people, their day's work finished, came and sat upon the steps near her they seemed to hover about her with a sense of security, as if she had been their guardian angel, or some superior being, capable of protecting them. The sun had set. The last lingering light had faded from thT-suake of a little pistol you loden for she ?" 54 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, " Why, to shoot Thorg with, ef how he should come." " What a funnelly fool I What de use o' she shoot he, when der'd be twenty or thirty at his back to wenge him ? No, taint to shoot no Thorys, nor no sick it's jes' to shoot she herself, afore she'll fall into any o' der funnelly wicked hands !" " No ! Lord ! you don't tink so 1 She musn't do nuffin 'tall like dat der 'case allers when der's life der's hopes !" said the old man, in a low voice, as he crept stealthily to the stand- drawer and took out the pistol. The old woman sat down to her reel, and reeled away as if nothing had happened. W r hat are you doing with that, Oliver ?" asked Edith, un- suspiciously, as she re-entered the hall. " Only 'suring of mysef how it's all right, Miss Edith," said the old ican, with some nervous trepidation. " And is it all right ?" "Yes, Miss Edith, thank Marster!" said the old creature, " with the sigh of a great deliverance," as he replaced the wea- pon in the stand-drawer, and turned to go about his business. " I do not* believe that we shall have occasion to use it, Oli- ver," said Edith, resuming her seat and her work. " Where are those poor souls from Hay Hill ?" she asked, after a little pause, remembering the fugitives for the first time since breakfast. " Soun' asleep, Miss Edith, down at my quarter 'deed dey is, chile, sleepin' like dead. I 'spose bow dey was fleein' and 'fendin all night last, an' dey's pcrf 'ly 'zausted." That summer day was so holy in its beauty, so bright, so clear, so cool ; that rural scene was so soothing in its influ- ences, so calm, so fresh, so harmonious ; it was almost impossi- ble to associate with that lovely day and scene, thoughts of wrong and violence and cruelty. So felt Edith as she some- tinies lifted her eyes from her work to the beauty and glory of nature around Ler. And if now her heart ached, it was more with grief for Fan ay's fate than dread of her own. There THE MISSING BRIDE. 55 r-omes, borne upon the breeze that lifts her dark tresses, and fans her pearly cheeks, the music of many rural voices of rip- pling streams and rustling leaves and twittering birds ami humming bees. But mingled with these, at length, there comes to her atten- tive ear a sound, or the suspicion of a sound, of distant horse- hoofs falling upon the forest leaves it draws nearer it be- comes distinct she knows it now it is it is a troop of Bri- tish soldiers approaching the house 1 They rode in a totally undisciplined and disorderly manner; reeling in their saddles, drunken with debauchery, red-hot, reeking from some scene of fire and blood ! And in no condition to be operated upon by Edith's beauti- rul and holy influences. They galloped into the yard they galloped up to the house their leader threw himself heavily from his horse and ad- ranced to the door. It was the terrible and remorseless Thorg ! No one could doubt the identity for a single instant. The low, square-built, thick-set body, the huge head, the bull neck, heavy jowl, coarse sensual lips, bloodshot eyes, and fiery visage, surrounded with coarse red hair, the whole brutalized, demonized aspect could belong to no monster in the universe but that cross between the fiend and the beast called THORG 1 And now he came, intoxicated, inflamed, burning with fierce passions from some fell scene of recent violence 1 Pale as death, and nearly as calm, Edith awaited his coming. She could not hope to influence this man or his associates She knew her fate now it was death ! death by her OWE hand, before that man's foot should profane her threshold 1 She knew her fate, and knowing it, grew calm and strong, There were no more hopes or fears or doubts or trepidations. Over the weakness of the flesh the spirit ruled victorious, and Edith stood revealed to herself richly endowed with that he- roism she had so worshipped in others in that supreme mo- ment mistress of herself and of her fate. To die by her own 56 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, hand! but not rashly not till a trial should be made- not till ihe last moment. And how beautiful in this last fateful moment she looked ! The death pallor had passed from her counte- nance the summer breeze was lifting the light black curls. soft shadows were playing upon the pearly brow a strange elevation irradiated her face, and it " shone as it had been the face of an angel." " By George ! boys, what a pretty wench ! Keep back, yon d d rascals I" (for the men had dismounted and were press- ing behind him,) " keep back, I say, you drunken 1 Let rank have precedence in love as in other things ! Your turn may come afterwards ! Ho ! pretty mistress, has your larder the material to supply my men with a meal ?" Edith glanced around for her attendants. Jenny lay upon the hall floor, fallen forward upon her face, in a deep swoon. Oliver stood out upon tbe lawn, his teeth chattering, and his knees knocking together with terror, yet faintly meditating a desperate onslaught to the rescue with his wooden rake. "No matter 1" for first of all we must have a taste of those dainty lips; stand back, bl t you," he vociferated with a vol- ley of appalling oaths, that sent the disorderly men, who were Ugain crowding behind him, back into the rear ; " we would be alone, d you ; do you hear ?" The drunken soldiers fell back, and he advanced towards Edith, who stood calm in desperate resolution. She raised her hand to supplicate or waive him off, he did not care which her other hand, hanging down by her side, grasped the pistol, which she concealed in the folds of her dress. "Hear me," she said, "one moment, I beseech you I" The miscreant paused.. " Proceed, my beauty! Only don't let the grace before meat be too long." 'I am a soldier's child," said Edith; her sweet, ciear voi.-je slightly quavering like the strings of a lute over which the wiiid has passed ; " I am a soldier's child my father died gallantly on the field of battle. You are soldiers, nnd will not "uurv a soldier's orphan daughter." THE MISSING BEIDE. 57 " Not for the universe, my angel ; bl t 'era ! let any of 'em hurt a hair of your head I I only want to love you a little, ray beauty 1 that's all ! only want to pet you to your heart's con- tent ;" and the brute made a step towards her.. " Hear me !" exclaimed Edith, raising her hand. "Well, well, go on, ray dear, only don't be too long for raj men want something to eat and drink, and I have sworn not to break my fast until I know the flavor of those ripe lips." Edith's fingers closed convulsively upon the pistol still held hidden. "I am alone and defenceless," she said; "I remained here, voluntarily, to protect our home, because I had faith in the bet- ter feelings of men when they should be appealed to. I had heard dreadful tales of the ravages of the enemy through neigh- boring sections of the country. I did not fully believe them. I thought them the exaggerations of terror, and knew how such stories grow in the telling. I could not credit the worst, be- lieving, as I did, the British nation to be an upright and honor- able enemy British soldiers to be men and British officers gentlemen. Sir, have I trusted in vain ? Will you not let me and ray old servants retire in peace ? All that the cellars and storehouses of Luckenough contain, is at your disposal. You will leave myself and attendants unmolested. I have not trusted in the honor of British soldiers to my own destruction !" "A pretty speech, my dear, and prettily spoken but not half so persuasive as the sweet wench that uttered it," said Thorg, springing towards her. Edith suddenly raised the pistol an expression of deadly determination upon her face. Thorg as suddenly fell back. He was an abominable coward in addition to his other qualities. " Seize that girl ! seize and disarm her ! What mean you, rascals ? are you to be foiled by a girl ? Seize and disarm her, I say 1 are you men ?" Yes, they were men, and therefore, drunken and brutal as they were they hesitated to close upon one helpless girl. 58 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, " II 1 fire and furies ! surround 1 disarm her, I say 1" vo- ciferated Thorg. Edith stood, her hand still grasping the pistol her other one raise 1 in desperate entreaty. " Oh ' one moment ! for heaven's sake, one moment ? still hear me ! I would not have fired upon your captain ! NOT would I fire upon one of you, who close upon me only at your captain's order. There is something within me that shrinks from taking life ! even the life of an enemy any life but my own, and that only in such a desperate strait as this. Oh 1 by She mercy that is in my own heart, show mercy to me! You are men ! you have mothers, or sisters, or wives, at home, whom you hope to meet again, when war and its insanities are over. Oh ! for their sakes, show mercy to the defeaceless girl who stands here in your power 1 Do not compel her to shed her own blood ! for, sure as you advance one step towards me, I pull this trigger, and fall dead at your feet." And Edith raised the pistol and placed the muzzle to her own temple her finger against the trigger. The men stood still the captain swore. " H 1 fire and flames 1 do you intend to stand there all day, to hear the wench declaim ? Seize her, curse you 1 wrench that weapon from her hand." "Not so quick as I can pull the trigger!" said Edith her eyes blazing with the sense of having fate the worst of fate in her own hands ; it was but a pressure of the finger, to be made quick as lightning;, and she was beyond their power I her finger was on the trigger the muzzle of the pistol, a cold ring of cteel pressed her burning temple ! she felt it kindly protective as a friend's kiss 1 " Seize her ! Seize her, curse you !" cried the brutal Thorg, J' ; what care /whether she pull the trigger or not ? Before the I blood cools in her body, I will have had my satisfaction 1 Seize her, you infernal " " Captain, countermand your order I I bey, I entreat you, countermand your ti'dei ! You yourself will greatly regret THE MISSING BRIDE. 59 having given it, when you are calmer," said a young officer, riding hastily forward, and now, for the first time, taking a part in the scene. An honorable youth in a band of licensed military ma- rauders 1 " 'Sdeath, sir ! don't interfere with me ! Seize her, rascals t" ' One step more, and I pull the trigger !" said Edith. " Captain Thorg 1 This must not be !" persisted the young officer. "I) n, sir! do you oppose me? do you dare? Fall back ; sir, I command you ! Scoundrels ! close upon that wench and bind her I" " Captain Thorg 1 This SHALL NOT be ? Do you hear ? Po you understand ! I say this violence SHALL NOT be per- petrated I" said the young officer, firmly. " D n, sir 1 Are you drunk, or mad ? You are under arrest, sir 1 Corporal Truman, take Ensign Shield's sword !" The young man was quickly disarmed, and once more the captain vociferated. " Knock down and disarm that vixen ! Obey your orders, villains 1 Or by h 1, and all its fiends, I'll have you all court- martialed, and shot before to-morrow noon !" The soldiers closed around the unprotected girl. " Lord, all merciful ! forgive my sins," she prayed, and with a firm hand pulled the trigger 1 It did not respond to her touch it failed ! it failed ! Casting the traitorous weapon from her, she sunk upon her knees, murmuring, "Lost lost all is lost!" remained crushed, overwhelmed, awaiting her fate ! "Ha! ha! ha! as pretty a little make-believe as ever I siwl'* laughed the brutal Thorg, now perfectly at his ease, and g bat- ing over her beauty, and helplessness, and deadly terror. "As pretty a little sham as ever I saw !" "It was no sham! She couldn't sham! I drawed out the sho* unhekn.'wnst to her! I wish, I does, my fingers had 60 MIRIAM, THE A V E X G E R ; OR, shriveled and dropped off afore they ever did it !" exclaimed Oliver, in a passion of remorse, as he ran forward, rake in hand He was quickly thrown down and disarmed no one had any hesitation in dealing with Mm. "Now then, my fair 1" said Thorg, moving towards his victim Edith was now wild with desperation her eyes flew wildly around in search of help, where help there seemed none. Then Bhe turned with the frenzied impulse of flying. But the men surrounded to cut off her retreat. "Nay, nay, let her run ! let her run ! give her a fair start, and do you give chase ! It will be the rarest sport ! F^x- hunting is a good thing, but girl-chasing must be the very b 1 of sport, when I tell you mind, / tell you, men she shall be the exclusive prize of him who catches her!" swore the te morseless Thorg. Edith had gained the back door. They started in pursuit. "Now, by the living Lord that made me, the first man t?-.at lays hands on her shall 'die !" suddenly exclaimed the young en- sign, wresting his sword from the hand of the corporal, spring- ing between Edith and her pursuers, flashing out the blade, aud brandishing it in the faces of the foremost. He was but a stripling, scarcely older than Edith's self 1he arm that wielded that slender blade scarcely stronger than Edith's own but the fire that flashed from the eagle eye showed a spirit to rescue or die in her defence. Thorg threw himself into the most frantic fury a volley of the most horrible oaths was discharged from his lips. " Upon that villain, men ! beat him down I slay him 1 pin him to the ground with your bayonets! And then! do yonr will with the girl !" But before this fiendish order could be executed, aye, before it was half spoken, whirled into the yard a body of about thirty horsemen, galloping fiercely to the rescue with drawn swords and shouting voices. They were nearly three times the number of the foraging soldiers. THE MISSING BRIDE. 61 CHAPTER IV. TOUNO AMERICA IN 1814. " And in they burst! and on they rushed I While like a guiding star, Amid the thickest carnage blazed The helmet of Navarre." Battle of Ivry. YOUNG students of C Academy mere boys of from thirteen to eighteen years of age, but brave, spirited, vigorous lads, well mounted, well armed, and led on by the redoubtable college hero, Cloudesley Mornington. They rushed forward, they surrounded, they fell upon the marauders with an absolute shower of blows. " Give it to them, men 1 This for Fanny ! This for Edith ! And this ! and this ! and this for both of them !" shouted Cloudesley, as he vigorously laid about him. " Strike for Hay Hill and vengeance I Let them have it, my men ! And you, little fellows ! small young gentlemen, with the souls of heroes, and the bodies of elves, who can't strike a very hard blow, aim where your blows will tell ! aim at their faces. This for Fanny 1 This for Edith !" shouted Cloudesley, raining his strokes right and left, but never at random. He fought his way through to the miscreant Thorg. Thorg was still on foot, armed with a sword, and laying about him savagely among the crowd of foes that had.snrrounded him. Cloudesley was still on horseback he had caught up an axe that lay carelessly upon the lawn, and now he rushed upon Thorg from behind. He had no scruple in taking this advantage of the enemy no scruple with an unscrupulous monster an outlawed wretch a wild beast to be destroyed, when and where and how it was possible ! Ana so C" >udesley came on behind, and elevating this for- 62 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, rnidable weapon in both hands, raising himself in his stirrups, and throwing his whole weight with the stroke, he dealt a blow open the head of Thorg that brought him to the earth stunned, perhaps dead. From the impetus Cloudesley himself had re- ceived, i.e had nearly lost his saddle, but had recovered. " They fly ! They fly 1 By the bones of Csesar, the miscre- ants fly I after them, my men ! after them ! Pursue ! pursue !" shouted Cloudesley, wheeling his horse around to follow. But just then, the young British officer standing near Editb, resting on his sword, breathing, as it were, after a severe conflict, caught Cloudesley's eyes. Intoxicated with victory, Cloudesley sprang from his horse, and raising his axe, rushed up the stairs upon the youth ! Edith sprang and threw herself before the stripling, impul- sively clasping her arms around him to shield him, and then throwing up one arm to ward off a blow, looked up and ex- claimed, " He is my preserver my preserver, Cloudesley !" And what did the young ensign do ? Clasped Edith quietly but closely to his breast. It was a beautiful, beautiful picture ! Nay, any one might understand how it was that not years npcn years of ordinary acquaintance could have so drawn, so knitted these young hearts together as those few hours of su- preme danger. ' : My preserver, Cloudesley! My preserver*!" Cloudesley grounded his axe. "I don't understand that, Edith ! He is a British officer." " He is my deliverer ! When Thorg set his men on me to hunt me, he cast himself before me, and kept them at bay until you came !" " Mutinied !" exclaimed Cloudesley, in astonishment, and a sort of horror. "Yes, I suppose it was mutiny," said the young ensigu, speaking for the first time, and blushing as he withdrew his arm from Edith's waist THE MISSING BRIDE, 63 " Whe-ew 1 here's a go 1" Cloudeslcy was about to exclaim, bat remembering himself he amended his phraseology, aud said, "A very embarrassing situation, yours, sir." " I can NOT reget it !" " Certainly not 1 There are laws of God and humanity above all military law, and such you obeyed, sir ! I thank you on the part of my young countrywoman," said Cloudesley, who ima- gined that he could talk about as well as he could fight. "If the occasion could recur, I would do it again! Yes, a thousand times 1" the young man's eyes added to Edith only to her. " But oh ! perdition ! while I am talking here that serpent ! that copperhead ! that cobra capella ! is coming round again I How astonishingly tenacious of life all foul, venomous creatures are !" exclaimed Cloudesley, as he happened to espy Thorg moving slightly where he lay, and rushed out to despatch him. The ocner two young people were left alone in the hall. " I am afraid you have placed yourself in a very, very dan- gerous situation, by what you did to save me." " But do you know oh, do you know how happy it has made me ? Can you divine how my heart yes, my soul burns with the joy it has given me ? When I saw you standing there be- fore your enemies so beautiful ! so calm ! so constant I felt that I could die for you that I would die for you. And when I oprang between you and your pursuers, I had resolved to die for you. But first to set your soul free. Edith, you should not have fallen into the hands of the soldiers ! Yes ! I had deter- mined to die for and with you 1 You are safe. And whatever befals me, Edith, will you remember that ?" " You are faint ! you are wounded 1 indeed you are wounded I Oh where ! Oh ! did any of our people strike you ?" " Xo it was one of our men, Edith ! I do not know you'' other name, s\vect lady !" " Never mind my name it is Edith that will do ; but your wound }our wound oh I you are very pale here ! lay down upon this settee Oh, t is too hard ! come into my room, i/ 64 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, opens here upon the hail there is a comfortable lounge there, come in and lie down let me get you something ?" " Thanks thanks, dearest lady, but I must get upon my horse and go I" "Go?" " Yes, Edith don't you understand, that after what I have dono after what I have had the joy of doing the only honor- able course left open to me, is to go and give myself up to answer the charges that may be brought against me ?" " Oh, Heaven ! I know 1 I know what you have incurred by defending me ! I know the awful penalty laid upon a military officer who lifts his hand against his superior. Don't go ! oh, aon't go !" "And do you really take so much interest in my fate, sweetest lady ?" said the youth, gazing at her with the deepest and most delightful emotions. '"Take an interest' in my generous protector ! How should I help it ? Oh 1 don't go ! Don't think of going. You will uot will you ? Say that you will not I" " You would not advise me to anything dishonorable, I am sure." " No no but oh 1 at such a fearful cost you have saved me. Oh ! when I think of it, I wish you had not interfered to defend me. I wish it had not been done !" " And /would not for the whole world that it had not been done ! Do not fear for me, sweetest Edith ! I run little risk in voluntarily placing myself in the hands of a court-martial for British officers are gentlemen, Edith 1 you must not judge them by those you have seen and when they hear all the cir- cumstances, I have little doubt that my act will be justified besides, my fate will rest with Ross, General Ross one of the most gallant and noble spirits ever created, Edith ! And now you must let me go, fairest lady." And he raised her hand respectfully to his lips, bowed reverently, and left the hall to find Uis horse. ID the meantime Cloudesley Mornington had gone out to THE MISSING BRIDE. 65 despatch Thorg if needful. But when he reached the side of his fallen foe, the body lay so still that Oondesley believed it dead. He did not like to strike a corpse but to kill Thorg to make sure of his death, Cloudesley was resolved he thought it his duty he felt it his duty just as men feel it incumbent upon them to slay any cruel beast of prey fallen into their power So Cloudesley stood over the monster, with his weapon raised, watching with some curiosity and interest for some sign of life and recovery that should invite the descending blow. He ha^ vratchod some minutes occasionally pushing the body with hi* foot, and scrutinizing the brutal and ferocious face with some- thing of a physiognomist's interest, when the monster suddenly made a great spasmodic heave and plunge settled himself still again and opened his eyes. In an instant Cloudesley's foot was planted on his chest, and the point of his sword placed against his throat. " I believed that you were dead or you never would havo opened your eyes again 1 Say your prayers ! Make your peace with Heaven, for your hour has come !" The miscreant attempted to struggle feebly, stupidly, in effectually, for he was half dead, and the pressure of the point of that sword against his throat was dangerous, might be instantly fatal, and it warned him to be still. " Say your prayers ! Make your peace with Heaven if you can, for in five minutes your soul will be in eternity 1" "Cloudesley! Cloudesley!" The young man raised his eyes to see Edith standing opposite to him. " Cloudesley ! Spare that man ! Do not send his soul to God with such a load of sin upon it!" "Go into the house, dearest Edith !" " No, not yet ! I dare not, Cloudesley ! spare that man ! Do not kill a fallen, helpless foe, for see, he scarcely breathes now !" "Eilith Lance! will you retire, or do you prefer tc remaia iicre and witness an execution ?" " You must not shed blood, Cloudesley ! You must not stain 4 66 MIEIAM, THE AVENGEE; OE, your young, pure, innocent hand with blood! For your c\vn sake, spare him !" "Miss Lance, if you do not leave this, you will speedily see a thing done that will haunt you all the nights of your life I" "A murder! Yes, Cloudesley, call it by its right name ! But you will not do such a deed before my eyes, and I may siy upon my very threshold ! You will not, Cloudesley ! If you will not spare him for his sake nor for your own sake, Cloudesley ! spare him for mine, for JSdith's. I thank God that in this fray no one has been killed on either side. I thank God that the soil of our home is still pure from the stain of blood ! Oh, Cloudes- ley ! for my sake, for nature's sake yea ! for God's ! do not pollute this spot with blood ! Do not spoil its beautiful charm do not make it hideous and loathsome in my sight ! Oh ! Cloudesley, if you should do this deed here oh ! Cloudesley ! I should never, never enjoy peace of mind again ! I should never, never be able to endure my home, or even to look upon your face again with pleasure, Cloudesley ! Do not give me so much misery then !" " Edith ! I hunger and thirst ! I pant and gasp for this demonV life!" "But yet, for my sake, you will spare him the Lord bless you, Cloudesley !" " Edith ! Do you know, ' it hath been said of them of old time,' that it is a fearful thing to come between the criminal and his just retribution ? Edith ! it hath been said that whoso intercepteth such a righteous retribution, receiveth it upon his own head, even as the object that passes between the thunderbolt and its aim, is shattered to destruction. Edith ! I feel strangely impelled to warn yon if you interfere to save this man, he will b in some way fatal to you !" " I accept the risk ! I accept it! Yes ! I come between the criminal and his doom rather than have a plague spot on my eoul or on yours I I intercept the thunderbolt rather than that there should be one blasted spot such as blood would make upon this sweet green sward 1" THE MISSING BRIDE. 67 Cloudesley sheathed his sword and removed his foot from the chest of the wounded man. Just theu the young ensign was seen approaching leading his lorse, but looking frightfully ill, and walking with pain and difficulty. " You are not going to leave us, sir ?" asked Cloudesley. <; I am under the necessity of doing so." 'But you are not able to travel you can scarcely sit your horse- Pray do not think of leaving us." " You are a soldier at least an amateur one, and yon will understand that after what has occurred, I must not seem to hide myself like a fugitive from justice 1 In short, I must go and answer for that which I have done." " I understand, but really, sir, you look very ill you " But here the young officer held out his hand smilingly, took leave of Cloudesley, and bowing low to Edith, rode off. Cloudesley and Edith followed the gallant fellow with their eyes. He had nearly reached the gate, the old green gate at the farthest end of the semi-circular avenue, when the horse stopped, the rider reeled and fell from his saddle. Cloudesley and Edith ran towards him reached him. Cloudesley disen- tangled his foot from the stirrup, and raised him in his arms. Edith stood pale and breathless by. "He has fainted I I knew he was suffering extreme "pain. Edith ! fly and get some water 1 Or rather here ! sit down and hold up his head while I go." Edith was quickly down by the side of her preserver, support- ing his head upon her breast. Cloudesley sped towards the house for water and assistance. When he procured what he wanted and returned, he met the troop of collegians on their return from the chase of the retreating marauders. They reported that they had scattered the fugitives in every direc- tion and loot them in the labyrinths of the forest They wore tremendously elated with their victory. The victory of school boys over regular troops. British troops ! That was the way they chose to consider "t. But not a very surprising feat of 68 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, arms when we remember that the boys were healthy and vigor ous lads from thirteen to eighteen well mounted well armed, and brave as lions, and that they three times outnumbered the enemy, who was already overdone by a clay and night and morn- iug of horrid debauchery, and who, taken by surprise, would not oven measure the strength of the attacking party. Yet, nevertheless, the boys were fairly delirious with the pride of their first victory. When they saw the young British officer upon the ground, supported in the arms of Edith, they rejoiced over another pri- soner, as they thought. Two prisoners of war taken by their party ! two officers, and one the notorious Thorg ! That was almost too much glory for the heads of boys to bear sanely ! Several of them dismounted and gathered around the young ensign. But Cloudesley was now upon the spot, and while he bathed the face of the fainting man, explained to them how it was, and requested some one to ride immediately to the village and pro- cure a physician. Thurston Willcoxen, the next in command under him, and his chosen brother-in-arms, mounted his horse and galloped off. A mattrass was in the meantime brought down, the wounded man laid carefully upon it, and borne by the boys to the man- sion house. He was laid upon a cot in one of the parlors. A young medical student among the youths, sending the crowd from the bedside, proceeded to open his dress and examine his wound, to do what he could for him before the arrival of the doctor. Edith retired from the room, and sent old Jenn^ to hi? as- sistance. Old Jenny, since recovering from her s.roon, had been walking about "settling things up," mechanically, like 01 e in a dream. Edith found herself alone with Cloudesley, for a few mo- ments. " Tell me, Cloudesley," she said, "how it was that you came BO opportunely to our relief?" THE MISSING BRIDE. 69 " Why, you see, Edith, this morning we fellows were at oui military exercises, in the academy grounds, when the news came of the massacre at Hay Hill. As soon as we heard it, I rode up to the head of our company, and turning and facing them, I said, 'Soldiers, attend I' And they attended. 'You have heard of the inhuman outrages at Hay Hill.' They had heard. 1 Then draw your swords.' And they drew. ' Throw away the scabbards.' Aud they threw. 'Raise their points to Heaven.' And they raised. 'Bow your heads.' And they bowed. 'Now swear by the sacred love you bear your mothers, sisters and sweethearts, never to sheath your blades until you sheath them in English flesh.' And they swore. 'Now cry, "God for Harry, England and St. George I" No 1 thunder and blazes ! thataintit! I mean, "God for vengeance, Fannie, and Hay Hill !" ' And they cried. ' Now, right face I quick step ! for- ward ! march !' And they marched. And here we are. We came, we saw, we conquered." " But the doctors ! I wonder they did not feel a great re- sponsibility in letting you come !" " Oh, the Big Wigs did try to stop us. But they were not in time. You sea, when they saw me from the house haranguing my men, they thought we were only exercising as usual. But when they saw the company defiling down the road, they came running out in a body old Grim at their head to see what was the matter. They ordered us in. But soldiers know their duty better. I addressed them. ' If any man over thir- teen years of age deserts his ranks at this crisis, he shall be forever expelled from this company, and from the society of all honorable men, and shall be considered a 'pshaw ! a nuisance in the noses of fellows forever and ever 1' The majority stood by me many even of the little fellows insisted on going with us and some great lubberly babies of nineteen went back with thfl professors." " But you started for Hay Hill. Alas ! much too late it must have been ! But how came you here !" " That's it ! We had proceoded about three mi' v of onr 70 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, march, and reached the fork in the road where it turns in lo the forest towards this place, when we met an old woman whc told us that Hay Hill was nothing but a blackened heap of smoking ruins, and that not a soul of either destroyer or victim remained upon the place, but that we must go to Luckenough, wher-e we should be wanted. That the house would be attacked, and there was no one there but Miss Edith to defend it. She said she had started to go to C , and get us to come for this very purpose that she could not bear for Miss Edith to suffer, whatever might befall Luckenough 1" " It was poor old Nell, was it not ?" " Yes, it was Nell CHAPTER V. EDITH'S LOVE. " A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green No more of me you knew, My love ! No more of me you knew." Sir Walter Scott. " EDITH I I should not hesitate to announce the fact to a foung lady of less resolution than yourself, but, my dear Lady Castellaine ! we must fortify this ' castle' as well as we can against a possible renewal of the attack, for the probability is these rascals I beg your pardon, Edith may report their own defeat, and our weakness, and return with a reinforcement to burn or batter down these walls over our heads. So, I believe I must go and see the other fellows, Edith, and consult what is >est to be done," said Cloudesley Mornington, touching his cap to the young laij rf the mansion, as he left her THE MISSING BRIDE. 71 Cloudeslev went to call a council of war in the salocn. Edith glided softly to the door of the parlor, where, stretched upon cot, lay her wounded champion. But though she list- ened attentively, all was so still within, that she could hear nothing of his condition. After a little anxious listening, and a little awkward hesitation, she tapped softly at the door, and brought out Solomon Weismann, the young medical student, before mentioned. "How is is Thorg?" asked the maiden. " Thorg oh ! he? why,' he is seriously injured a contu- sion of the cerebellum, and concussion of the cerebrum, de- priving him for the present of the powers of volition anu sensation, and threatening to terminate in death. He is now lying on a cot in the next room to this of the young ensign, in a comatose state, with a half a peck of ice about his head, and half a peck of mustard about his extremities. May destiny baffle the utmost skill of medical science in his case ! I feel it my duty to do all that can be done to save him, but I hope it may fail, that's all." " You must not encourage such feelings in your heart for the purity and nobility of your own soul, you must not. But your other patient ?" " The young ensign ? Oh! He is very dreadfully injured, indeed, Miss Lance," replied the youth, who, knowing nothing of the circumstance of his patient's having received his inju- ries in Edith's defence, could not guess that she should take any deep interest in his fate. " Has his wound been dressed ? is he suffering much ?" asked Edith, in a tremulous voice. "Why, yes to both of your questions ! I have dressed his veound as well as circumstances will admit, but he is suffering extremely ; must be, you know, Miss Lance. You see, his in- jury is a very complicated one it is at once a punctured, contused, and lacerated wound tearing the pectoralis-minor, shattering the third and fourth ribs, with the intercostal mus- fle*. near Mieir articulation with the second os-sternum, and 72 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, driving the splintered bones through the pleura-costalis, and ihe pleura-pulmonalis into the parenchyma," answered the young student, making the most of the occasion to display his science. "But is that a very dangerous wound or not ? I think 1 don't quite understand," said Edith, faintly. " Well, I judge it to be a very bud thing, Miss Lance, when the ribs are broken and driven into the substance of the lungs " " Oh !" gasped the young girl, with a painful start, as if she herself had received a bayonet thrust through the bosom. The medical student went pitilessly on, regardless of the pain he was inflicting " High inflammation and fever has set in, and he is suffering excruciating agony." " I hope you are mistaken I did not hear him groan once," faltered Edith. "Why, no! really, he shows the most marvellous fortitude- while I was examining and probing his wound, and picking out little splinters of bone from the pleura, and taking up an ar- tery, and closing up the ragged gash though his lips were white, and his brow knitted with the mortal agony, not a groan escaped him ! no, not one ! I could not help admiring him, enemy to our country as he is !" Edith was unconsciously wringing and compressing her hands " But the wound is not mortal not mortal ?" " Why, what a tender heart you have, Miss Edith, to feel so much compassion for a wounded enemy. Suppose it had been one of our countrymen yes ! suppose it had been me ? Why, the shook would have killed you !" "But the wound is not mortal you said so didn't you?'" " Of course I did not, Miss Lance. Certainly the wound is mortal ; but you need not distress your kind heart about it, for though we shall do all that we possibly can to alleviate his suf- ferings, yet still we must consider that he is our country's enemy, and therefore I should think you need not lay awake, to-night. thinking of his misery 01 go into mourning for him when IK? d>s" THE MISSING BRIDE. 73 11 Oh, I wish, I ivish the surgeon would coine I When do you think he will come? You are so young, so h experienced, you cannot be an infallible judge you may be mistaken. Oh ! when do you think the doctor will be here ?" " It is impossible for me to say, Miss Lance," replied Salo- mon, piqued at her distrust of his own skill ; " I do not know but what I do know is, that the doctor cannot do much when ne does come. And whether he gets here to-night or not, 1 can tell you how it will all end. The inflammation must in- crease, and the fever rise until it reaches delirium, and his ex- cruciating agonies must continue to augment until mortification sets in, when the pain will abate, and the fever subside, and an easy death close the scene. This will probably take place some time to-morrow morning. Anything more you wish to know, Miss Lance ?" "No! no!" The young man disappeared within, closing the door after him. A short gasp, a suppressed sob, and Edith leaned, half faint- ing, against the wainscotting. Presently she heard wheels rolf up to the door and stop. She looked up. It was the carnage of the surgeon, whom she saw alight and walk up the steps. She went to meet him, com- posedly as she could, and conducted him to the door of the sick room, which he entered. Edith remained in the hall, softly A'a!king up and down, and sometimes pausing to listen. After a little, the door opened. It was only Solomon Weis- mann, who asked for warm water, lint, and a quantity of old 'iuen. These Edith quickly supplied, and then remained alone in the hall, walking up and down, and pausing to listen as be- fore ; once she heard a deep shuddering groan, as of one ia mortal extremity, and her own heart and frame thrilled to the sound, and then all was still as before. An hour, two hours, passed, and then the door opened again, Find Edith caught a glimpse of the surgeon, with his shirt sleeves pushed above ' xi 's elbows, and a pair of bloody hands M MIEIAM, THE AVENGER; OE, It was Solomon who opened the door to ask for a basin of water, towels and soap, for the doctor to wash. Edith fur- nished these also. Half an hour passed, and the door opened a third time, and the doctor himself came out, fresh and smiling. His counte- nance and his manner were in every respect encouraging. "Come into the drawing-room a moment, if you please, Miss, Edith, I want to speak with you." Edith desired nothing more, just at that moment. " Well, doctor your patient ?" she inquired, anxiously. " Will do very well I Will do very well ! That is, if he be properly attended to, and that is what I wished to speak to you about, Miss Edith. I have seen you near sick beds before this, my dear, and know that I can better trust you than any one to whom I could at present apply. I intend to instal you as his nurse, my dear. When a life depends upon your care, you will waive any scruples you might otherwise feel, Miss Edith, I am sure 1 You will have your old maid, Jenny, to assist you, and Solomon at hand, in case of an emergency. But I intend to delegate my authority, and leave my directions with you." " Yes, doctor, I will do my very best for your patient." " I am sure of that. I am sure of that." She wished to tell him that the invalid was her preserver, and had received the wound in defending her from his own party, but it was a long, eloquent story, in Edith's apprehen- sion ; she would not interrupt his directions by alluding to it now she would do full justice to it another time. Now she wanted to receive his orders and ask some questions. " His wound, doctor, is not dangerous then ?" "Well no, Miss Editfa, if he is properly nursed." " Solomon Weismann told me the wound was a very terrible one," said Edith, repeating the description he had given of the injury. The doctor laughed. " Solomon is a pedantic fool 1 and bent upon astonishing everybody with his knowledge." THE MISSING BRIDE. 75 " Sarvtu.t, sir I Beg your pardon, raarster, fer interruptin' o' you ! but you 'low how Marse Soloraun Weismann was not sensible o' his 'fession ?" inquired Jenny, appearing at the door with a scrap of paper in her hand, which she studied very dubiously. " Well, now, Aunty, I rather think it is no concern of yours." " 'Deed, beg your pardon, marster, it's a heap o' 'cern o 1 mine. 'Cause, you see, marster, how I took a 'struction in my t'roat quinsequence o' settin' out'n de jew long o' Miss Edy las' night. So jes' now I tells Doctor Solomun 'bout it. An' he look down my t'roat, he did, an' 'formed me how I had de tongs-an-sumtin-or oder." "Do you mean tonsilitis?" "Yes, marse! dat it! tongs-and-eat-us, an' he guv me dis yer 'scription!" said Jenny, handing the mysterious scrap of paper. " Please read it, marster, an' see if it's all right case I has my doubts o' dese yer youngsters." The doctor took the paper and laughingly read, " Pulv. Capsi. one scruple, Chlorid. Sodea. half a scruple, Aceti. half a fluid ounce, Aqua. Puris. Bull., quantum suf." Jenny listened with her mouth and eyes growing wider at every item, until at its conclusion she burst out indignantly with, " Dar I what I tell you ? Mus' t'ink how people's a funuelly fool ! to heave all dat dere rank pisen truck down der 'troats !" " Why, that's all very good ! all right 1 simple and proper remedy enough ! that's the pedantic for red pepper tea 1 which you know of yourself is good for a common sore throat, and which you can make for yourself well enough ! There ! now take yourself off Jenny; I have something to say to yon/ mistress." Jenny left the room, grumbling to herself, " Wonner why de debbil dat der 'ceited fellow could'nt o' tolled me to make pepper tea for my sore t'roat 'stead of writin.' il )\vu Pull. Caps an Aquafortis bull. It do soun gran' though, 'decil do it! 'Aqua fortis,' I'll member of 'em! Ah! Lcr', what it is to have an viification 1" 76 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, The doctor was giving Edith his last directions. " Above all things, Miss Lance, the patient must be kapt entirely free from heat and excitement of all kinds he must be kept perfectly still and cool, yet not too cool you must use your judgment. You will find the same directions, together with my written orders for the regulation of his medicine and diet for the next twenty-four hours, on this paper/' And the doctor placed in her hands a folded slip, and took his departure. Edith was glad to have the privilege nay, the duty of nurs- ing her invalid. Yet she felt by no means at ease. She knew the doctor's way of old how, with his cheerful, hopeful temper, and encouraging, flattering tongue, he was just as apt to put too fair a face upon matters as Mr. Solomon was to put too dark a one. She had often heard it said of the doctor, " Oh ! Doctor Brightwell, though the best doctor in the world, will never own that there is anything serious the matter until the patient is in the grave 1" Edith knew it to be true of him, too. And so it was not with the lightest of hearts that she en- tered the sick room of her patient. She was relieved from the deep despondency into which Solomon's report had thrown her, but not from anxiety. She prepared the iced tamarind water the doctor had ordered to cool his burning thirst, and placed it on a stand at hand, and then she took a large feather fan and sat down to fan him her present duty being to keep him cool, yet to keep his chest covered carefully, lest the least air should penetrate to that dreadful wound, and to give him drink when- ever he needed it. Since the fatigue and pain of the second and thorough examination and dressing, the surgeon had found it necessary to give the wound after his clumsy student, the patient had fallen into the sleep of exhaustion. But his face was flushed with rising fever, his slumber was restless he mur- mured in his disturbed dreams, and threw about his left arm, 1 his right arm, though itself uninjured, was bound down, lest its slightest motion should disturb the wound upon that side. He needed the closest watching, the most vigilant attention, such as on I 1 " one so interested in his life as Edith was would givs THE MISSING BRIDE. 77 him. He awoke several times in the course of the evening, und took the drink from her hands, but never recognized his nurse. He called her "Marian," and "dearest Marian." But never " Edith." Edith, and the scenes of the last few hours, seemed to have passed from his memory. As his fever rose, the poor girl's heart sank, she thought Solomon's prophecy was about to be fnlQlled. The long, gawky figure, red head, and freckled face of the medical student frequently appeared at the door, and once dur- ing the evening he relieved her watch, while she went out to give some orders to Jenny and Oliver. " And I likes for to know, Miss Edy, what we-dem got to get for dem dar boys' suppers ? Dey aint had the fust bit o' dinner, an' is as hungry as houn' dogs," said the latter. And indeed it was a serious consideration. There were some thirty youth ; and the provisions of the garrison of Luckenough were not extensive the first evacuating party under Commo- dore Waugh having carried off nearly all th-j edibles. Edith was nonplussed. " If I kills all de chickens as is left, and cooks all de bacon and eggs, der'll be enough for to-night and to-morrow morniu'. But what de debbil we-dem gvvine do arter datt" " Oh, well ! if there's enough for the present, use it, Jenny, and to-morrow we can send to some of the neighbors and get provisions." So this matter was settled, and Edith resumed her watch. She watched by his cot through all the night, fanning him softly, keeping his chest covered from the air, giving him 1m medicine at the proper intervals, and putting drink to his lips when he needed it. But never trusted her eyelids to close for \ moment. Jenny shared her vigil by nodding in an easy hair; and the young medical student by sleeping soundly on the wooden settee in the hall. So passed the night. After midnight, to Edith's great relief, his fever began to abate, and he sunk into a sweet sleep. In the morning Solomon roused himself, and came in and relieved Edith's watch, and attended 78 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OE, to the wants of the patient, while she went to her room to bath* her face and weary eyes. After breakfast there was an arrival at the honse. Two of the professors from the academy came in search of their pupils. They explained that they should have come the evening before had not the return of Doctor Brightwell to the village, and his nport of the state of affairs at Luckenough, put them at ease io respect to their charge. The professors reported that tho British forces were far on their march to Washington City, and the neighborhood was for the present delivered from their com- pany. The lads were then mustered, the roll called, and all being found right, they departed with the professors once more for "Academic Shades." And Edith and her patient, with Jenny and Oliver, who attended Thorg, were left alone in the hall. She prepared the light, nutritious food he was permitted to partake, and placed it on the stand by the bedside ready for him, when he should awake, and then resumed her seat beside him to fan him, and to watch the refreshing sleep into which he had fallen. No mother ever watched her child with more care and tenderness. How she thanked Heaven for that restoring sleep, and for the deep, cool quiet of the whole house, so favorable to the sufferer. The back windows of the room were open, but the thick branches of the old elm trees made a dark, pleasant shade, and the cool breeze murmured low, slumbrous music through the rustling leaves as it came into the room. Everything was so soothing and refreshing to the invalid, and she so quietly rejoiced in it. How strangely how suddenly this new interest had entered hei sail Twenty-four hours ago, and she had never known the existence of this generous, noble boy, who now occupied all her thoughts. Twenty-four hours ago she had not seen his face, and now that beautiful countenance, with the elegant Hebrew profile the high, pale forehead, crested with raver Hack ringlets, the acquiline nose with the Ibin, quivering noa THE MISSING BRIDE. 79 tril, the short, haughty upper lip, and the superbly curved chin, the dark, flashing eyes, " like the eagle's, yet sometimes like the dove's" the eyes that had blazed with such insufferable light when defending her, yet softened into such ineffable ten ilerness when speaking to her the whole beautiful, spirited, yet gentle countenance, seemed familiar and dear as though it had always been associated with her life, and indispensable :o its happiness. Towards noon he opened his eyes, turned them around the room, and slowly came to the consciousness of his position. His wandering glance fell upon Edith, and softened and bright- ened as it were at once. With a smile full of almost child-like surprise and delight, he stretched out his hand to her. " Are you nursing me, dear lady ? this is very good." " How do you feel now?" asked Edith, taking the hand that he held out. It was rather feverish, and she began to sponge it with cold water. "I am better, I think, gentle lady. I thank you verj much." _, His voice was faint, he spoke with difficulty, and after saying r.hat, spoke only with his eloquent eyes, while Edith bathed his hands and face, and placed his little refreshment to his lips. In the midst of this the surgeon arrived, and entered the hall in a little smothered bustle. Edith went out to receive him. He had brought along with him an elderly lady from the village one Miss Nancy Skamp a distant relative of his own, who, he told Edith, would remain with her as long as she needed her company and assistance. Miss Nancy had gone up stairs in charge of Jenny, to taki off her bonnet and " things." Edith accompanied the doctor to the sick room. He re ceivcd Edith's report, praised her skill, examined the condition of his patient, and was sorry to find him not so well as he had Jioped and expected. There appeared to be much inflamma- tion, and the fever was rising again. Edith supplied the doctor with everything requisite for thf 80 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OK, re-dressing of the wound, sent Jenny in to wait upeu uiui, and then went out to welcome Miss Nancy Skamp, who was now coining down the stairs. Miss Nancy, by-the-way, was " own aunt" and sole proprie- tress of Mr. Solomon Skainp Weismann, the promising young aspirant to medical honors. She was like him, too. They were " like as two pins," the neighbors said. The same tall, bony figure the same red hair the same fair, freckled skin the same sharp, thin features, which, nevertheless, gave a mas- culine look to the old lady's face, and a feminine air to the young gentleman's. Miss Nancy piqued herself upon her own and her nephew's red hair and freckles they were the signs, she said, of the very purest Saxon blood none of your Celtic, or other inferior races, ever freckled or had red hair. In talking with Edith, Miss Nancy corroborated the report made by the professors in the morning the British forces had entirely left the neighborhood that was ascertained beyond all doubt. " But, oh ! wasn't that the awfullest massaeree at Hay Hill, Miss Edith ? "Horrible, indeed 1 And who could have foreseen it?" said Edith, shuddering. " Why, most any one, Miss Edith, I should think 1 It has always been my opinion, when people come to bad ends it's Lheir own faults. Now, there's Fanny Fairlie " " Dearest Fanny 1 has anything been heard of her since that light ?" " No, nothing certain. They do say she was seen rambling about in the woods, as mad as a March hare. The two oid negroes that escaped massacreem^, you know, are staying at Oid Fields, with Mrs. L'Olseau. It seems to me she haa enough to feed, poor lady, without them." The doctor now entered, to leave new directions with Edith and Miss Nancy, and to take his departure. He said he should send Solomon over that night, to sit up with the sick man. THE MISSING BRIDE. 81 So, towards evening, according to promise, Mr. Solomon arrived. And soon after supper Miss Nancy obliged Edith and her two fatigued attendants to go to their several apnrt- moiits. For some time after Edith lay down, she was kept awake by Jiat strong nervous excitability induced by loss of sleep, and it tvus midnight when at last she sunk into a fitful and perturbed slumber. About two hours after she was awakened by the sound of groans. She sat up to listen. It was her patient, who was groaning and tossing, and talking to himself, and no one seeming to pay the slightest attention to him. Edith arose quickly, slipped on her dressing-gown, and went into his room. There sat the aunt and nephew sound asleep. And there rolled and tossed the wounded man, wild with fever, pain and burning thirst. Edith gave him the cooling beverage, and sponged his head and face and hands with aromatic vinegar. But the fierce heat of the fever dried up the moisture without being cooled by it, and he still raved and tossed in high delirium. Edith was very much alarmed. She roused up Mr. Solomon, and sent him, on horseback, to the village for the doctor. And then she woke up Miss Nancy, who had slept through all this, and whose first words, when she opened her eyes, were, "Ah! I am glad you have come, Miss Edith, for I have not closed my eyes all night, and I'm all but worn out ; so now, boney, if you'll just take my place, I'll go and try to get some sleep." And rising and yawning, she walked away. Edith let her depart, and 1 waked up Jenny in her stead. The patient's delirium rose to frenzy ; and it began to be as much as Jenny and Oliver, who was called to her assistance, could do to keep him in the bed. The doctor came at sunrise. lie administered such remedies as his skill and experience sug- gested, but ascribed the whole mischief to the first unskillful dressing of the wound by Solomon, and said that he was sure uomd extraneous substauce had been permitted to work us way 5 82 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, into the lungs, where no one knew the extent of the evil a might now, or eventually cause. Be that as it might, the present sufferings of the patient were terrible. And for days life was despaired of. The most skillful medical treatment, and the most careful nursing only, had scarcely saved his life. And even after the imminent danger was over, it was weeks before he was able to be lifted from the brd to the sofa. In the meantime, Thorg recovered, and prepared to leave the house. He took quite an affectionate leave of the young ensign, and with an appearance of great friendliness and ho- nesty, promised to interest himself, at head-quarters, in behalf of the young officer. This somehow filled Edith with a vague distrust, and dark foreboding, for which she could neither ac- count, nor excuse herself, nor yet shake off. Thorg had been exchanged, and he joined his regiment after its return from Washington City, and before it sailed from the shores of America. Weeks passed, during which the invalid occupied the sofa in his room and Edith was his sole nurse ; Miss Nancy Skamp having left the house. And then Commodore Waugh, with his wife, servants, and caravan, returned to Luckenough. The old soldier had been " posted up," he said, relative to all that had transpired in his absence. There were no words, he declared, to express his admiration of Edith's "heroism." It was in vain that Edith assured him that she had not been heroic at all that the preservation of Luckenough had been due rather to the timely succor of the college boys, than to her own imprudent resolution. It did no good the old man was determined to lookrapon his niece as a heroine worthy to stand by the side of Joan of Arc. " For," said he, "was it not the soul of a heroine, that en- abled her to stay and guard the house ; and would the college company ever have come to the rescue of these old walls, if they had not h^ard that she had resolutely remained to guard them THE MISSING BRIDE. and was almost alone in the house ? Don't tell me ! Edith is the star maiden of old St. Mary's, and I'm proud of her 1 She is worthy to be my niece and heiress ! A true descendant of Marie Zelenski, is she ! And I'll tell you what I'll do, Edith !" he said, turning to her, " I'll reward you, my dear I I will. I'll marry you to Professor Grimshawl Thai's what I'll do, my dear ! And you both shall have Luckenough ; that you shall !" Months passed the war was over peace was proclaimed, and still the young ensign, an invalid, unable to travel, lingered at Luckenough. Regularly he received his pay ; twice he re- ceived an extension of leave of absence ; and all through the instrumentality of THORG. Yet all this filled Edith with tho greatest uneasiness and foreboding ungrateful, incomprehensi ble, yet impossible to be delivered from. CHAPTER VI. EDITH'S TROUBLES.- " One hath stirred within thy breast The quick and lasting interest, That is not easily suppressed." " I CANNOT tell, for the life of me, why Edith should prefer the love of a stranger, whom she hasn't known half a year, to that of her old uncle, whom she has known all her life," growled Old Nick. " You must remember your own youth yor preferred the love of a stranger to that of the father you had known all your life,' said good Henrietta. " Humph ! Hump 1 - 1" said the Commodore. " Yes, and you wisntd to marry, too, when you were young." "No I I didu\ neither, Old Hen, I ran away from you and 84 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, went to sea, and \vas gone nigh upon twenty years. If /mar- ried, it ivas all your doings, indeed ! What would ail me to tie myself to one tree, when I could have the range of the whole orchard? But you had waited for me so long, and were so f'oud of me. However ! I won't hit you in the teeth with it, Old Honey. But now about Edith! If she must fall in love ! 1 want to know why in the mischief she don't fall in love with Grim' ? Now, Grim' is what I call a man for any woman's eye, that is, if /know anything about women !" "Which you don't!" " Isn't he a very handsome man, now ?" " In his own opinion." "Well, he is very learned, that you'll admit?" "Pedantic, you mean." "And very religious!" "Self-righteous." "Oh-h-h!" roared the Commodore, thrusting forward hia head, and striking his stick upon the floor, " I vow to heaven, Old Hen, you'd be-devil an angel." " Yes ! angels of darkness 1" " I uphold that Grim' is a perfect man !" ' " Oh ! yes ! Professor Grimshaw is perfectly intolerable ! Edith feels that as well as I do." "Intolerable upon what account, I should like to be in- formed ? If he were ugly, or deformed, or stupid, or poor, I could comprehend it; but he is a man of good looks, good parts, and good prospects !" "Yes ! but women don't necessarily fall in love with a man's beauty, intellect, or social advantages." " With what then, I want very much to know ! With his ugliness, or stupidity, or forlornity, I suppose ?" "Just as likely as not." "Oh-h-h!" bellowed Old Nick, thrusting forward his great head, and ramming his stick into the floor, " 0-h-h-h ! You put me past all my patience with your conceit, and your rash general rules. You never knew one particular instance of what vo^. say I defy you to tell me one, just one, now onei" THE MISSING BRIDE. 85 "Well, I married you." "Humph! Humph! Humph!" said Old Nick. There was a long pause after this. " Well, at last," said the old Commodore, "what I Ljve re solved upon is this that Grim' shall be the master oi Luck enough, let who will be the mistress!" " Then give it to him in the name of all that's ugly, but don't, for heaven's sake, tempt any of your poor nieces, through their necessities, or clog the gift with the burden of an un- willing and unacceptable wife. As for Edith, her heart's in- tegrity is incorruptible and Doctor Grimshaw himself, occupies his thoughts as little with Edith as she does with him." "Now, that's what I call confounded perversity and ingrati- tude, when they know how it would please me, and my good intentions towards them. What the mischief should ail Grim' and Edith, not to fall in love with each other, when I desire it ?" "Because honest hearts are not to be bought, or sold, or persuaded." "Oh-h-h!" blowed Old Nick, "I'm tired of all the con- founded nonsense! but I know what I'll do." Here the conversation ended. From the foregoing dialogue, you will see how affairs stood at Luckenough. It was late in the spring, Mr. Shields had re- ceived orders to join his regiment in Canada, and upon their reception, he had had an explanation with Edith, and with her permission, had requested her hand of her uncle, Commodore Waugh. This threw the veteran into a towering passion, and nearly drove him from his proprieties as host. The yo ing ensign was unacceptable to him upon every account. First and foremost, he wasn't "Grim." Then he was an IsraeMto.J And, lastly! horror of horrors! he was a British officer, ami dared to aspire to the hand of Edith. It was in vain that his wife, the good Henrietta, tried to mollify him ; the storm raged for s.'veral days raged, till it had expended all its strength, and subsided from exhaustion. Then he came, as he alwayi 86 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, ultimately did, under the influence of Henrietta's calm tempera ment and better judgment. First of all, she assured him that " what will be, will be," that whether he opposed or favored the match, it would finally come off, that love is no respecter of parsons, prejudices or creeds that any one could see that two such lovely, excellent beings as Edith and Shields, were created for each other, and would make a " matchless pair " If he did not contradict her, he assented silently, or with a gruut a bearish, sullen sort of assent and he took his resolu- tion. Soon after this he summoned Edith to his presence. " Come here, huzzy ! So 1 you're determined, are you, to marry this young rascal ?" Edith cast her eyes on the ground, but did not speak. " Well, I am to take your silence for assent, I suppose ? Very good. Now, here is my ultimatum. I am no tyrant, minion, do you hear ! I oppose nobody's freedom of will not II I let every fool do as they like ; only I claim the privilege of doing as I like also. God Almighty gave man so much free agency, that he may redeem and sanctify himself, if he pleases, or damn himself to all eternity, if he likes that better 1 Hea- ven save me from the sin of depriving one of His creatures of their meed of liberty 1 Therefore, Miss Edith Lance ! marry, if you like, and whom you like. You are of age ! But hear, in that case, what I shall do. I have hitherto made no secret of my intentions towards you. They were, to have made you the heiress of all my possessions. Now all I have to say to you is this that if you will have the good sense to marry Mr. Grimshaw, these intentions shall be more than fulfilled they shall be anticipated. Upon your marriage with Grimshaw, I will give you a conveyance of Luckenough only reserving to myself and Old Hen a house, and a life-support in the place : Sut if you will persist in your foolish preference for that young scamp, I will give you nothing. That is all, Edith. Now go and do as you please. Only, as the Master said when He was betrayed by one He had chosen ; ' What thou doest, do quickly I' I canno lea", suspense !" THE MISSING BRIDE. 87 During the speech Edith remained standing, with her eyes fixed upon the floor. Now, she spoke with tearful eyes aud in a tremulous voice. " That is all is it not, uncle ? You will not deprive ine of any portion of your love : will you, uncle ?" " I do not know, Edith I I cannot tell; when you have deli berately chosen one of your own fancy, in preference to one of. mine the man I care most for in the world, and whom I chose especially for you ; why, you've speared me right through a very tender part ; however, as I said before, what you do, do quickly ! I cannot bear to be kept upon the tenter hooks 1" " I will talk with Michael, uncle," said Edith, meekly. She went out, and found him pacing the lawn at the back of the house. He turned towards her with a glad smile, took her hand aa she approached him, and pressed it to his lips. "Dearest Edith, where have you been so long?" " With my uncle, Michael. I have my uncle's ' ultimatum,' as he calls it." " What is it, Edith ?" " Ah 1 how shall I tell you without offence ? But, dearest Michael, you will not mind you will forgive au old man's childish prejudices, especially when you know they are not^er- sonal but circumstantial, national, bigoted." / "Well, Edith! well?" " Michael, he says he says that I may give you my hand " " Said he so ! bless that fair hand, aud bless him who be- stows itl" he exclaimed, clasping her fingers and pressing them to his lips. " Yes, Michael, buW " But what 1 there is no but ; he permits you to give me your Hand; there is then no but 'a jailor to bring forth some men- nrous malefactor.' " " Yet listen ! You know I was to have been his heiress I" '"No, indeed I did not know it! never heard it! never sag 88 MIRIAM, THE A V E X G E B ; OR, pected it! never even thought of it! How did I know but that he had sons and daughters, or nephews away at school !" " Well, I was to have been his heiress. Now he disinherits me, unless I consent to be married to his friend and favorite, Dr. Grimshaw." " You put the case gently and delicately, dear Edith, but the hard truth is this is it not that he will disinherit you, if you consent to be mine ? You need not answer me, dearest Edith, if you do not wish to ; but listen I have nothing but my sword, and beyond my boundless love, nothing to ofler you but the wayward fate of a soldier's wife. Your eyes are full of tears. Speak, Edith Lance ! can you share the soldier's wan- dering life ? Speak, Edith, or lay your hand in mine.' Yet, no ! no ! no ! I am selfish and unjust. Take time, love, to think of all you abandon, all that you may encounter in join- ing your fate to mine. God knows what it has cost me to say it but take time, Edith," and he pressed and dropped her hand. " I do not need to do so. My answer to-day, to-morrow, and forever, must be the same," she answered, in a very low voice ; and her eyes sought the ground, and the blush deepened on her oheek, as she laid her hand in his. How he pressed that white hand to his lips, to his heart ! how he clasped her to his breast ! how he vowed to love and cherish her as the dearest treasure of his life, need not here be told. Edith said, " Now take me in to uncle, and tell him, for he asked me not to keep him in suspense." Michael led her into the hall, where the Commodore strode up and down, making the old rafters tremble and qunke with every tread puffing blowing over his fallen hopes, like a nor'-wester over the dead leaves. Michael advanced, holding the hand of his affianced, and modestly announced their engagement. " Humph ! So the precious business is concluded, is it 1" ''Yes, sir," said Michael, with a bow. THE MISSING BRIDE. 89 "Well, I hope you may be as happy as you deserve! When la the proceeding to come off ?" "What, sir?" " The marriage, young gentleman ?" '"When shall I say, dearest Edith?" asked Michael, stooping fo her ear. " When uncle pleases," murmured the girl. ' Uncle pleases nothing, and will have nothing to do with it, except to advise as early a day as possible," he blurted out, " what says the bride ?" " Answer, dearest Edith," entreated Michael Shields. "Then let it be at New-Year," said Edith, falteringly. "Whew! six months ahead! Entirely too far off!" ex- claimed the Commodore. "And so it really is, beloved," whispered Michael. " Let it be next week," abruptly broke in the Commodore. "What's the use of putting it off? Tuesdays and Thursdays are the marrying days, I believe; let it then be Tuesday or Thursday." " Tuesday," pleaded Michael. " Thursday," murmured Edith. "The deuce! if you can't decide, I must decide for yon," growled Old Nick, storming down towards the extremity of the hall, and roaring "Old Hen! Old Hen! these fools are to be spliced on SUNDAY ! Now bring me my pipe ;" and the Com- modore withdrew to his sanctum. Good Henrietta came in, took the hand of the young ensign, and pressed it warmly, saying that he would have a good wife, and wishing them both much happiness in their union. She drew Edith to her bosom, and kissed her fondly, but in silence. As this was Friday evening, little preparations could be made for die solemnity to take place on Sunday. Yet Mrs. Henrietta exerted herself to do all possible honor to the occa- sion. That very evening she sent out a few invitations to the dinner and ball, that in those days invariably celebrated 9 90 MIKIAM, THE AVENGER; OK country wedding. She even invited a few particular friends ta meet the bridal pair at dinner, on their return from church. The little interval between this and Sunday morning, was passed by Edith and Shields in making arrangements for their future course. Sunday came. A young lady of the neighborhood officiated as bridesmaid, and Cloudesley Mornington as groomsman. The ceremony was to be performed at the Episcopal Church, at Charlotte Hall. The bridal party set forward in two carriages. They were attended by the Commodore and Mrs. Waugh. They reached the church at an early hour, and the marriage was solemnized before the morning service. When the entries had been made, and the usual congratulations passed, the party returned to the carriages. Before entering his own, Commodore Waugh ap- proached that in which the bride and bridegroom were already seated, and into which the groomsman was about to hand the bridesmaid. " Stay, you two, you need not enter just yet," said the old man, " I want to speak with Mr. Shields and his wife. Edith 1" Edith put her head forward, eagerly. " I have nothing against yon ; but after what has occurred v I don't want to see you at Luckenough again. Good-bye I'' Then turning to Shields, he said, " I will have yonr own and your wife's goods forwarded to the hotel, here," and nodding gruffly, he strode away. Cloudesley stormed, Edith begged that the carriage might be delayed yet a little while. Yain Edith's hope, and vain Mrs., Waugh's expostulations, Old Nick was not to be mollified. He said that " those who pleased to remain with the new-married couple, might do so lie should go home ! They did as they liked, and he should do as he liked." Mrs. Waugh, Cloudesley, and the bridesmaid determined to stay. The Commodore entered his carriage, and was driven towards home. The party then adjourned to the hotel. Mrs. Waugh com- THE MISSING BRIDE. 91 forting Edith, and declaring her intention to stay with her as long as she should remain in the neighborhood for Henrietta always did as she pleased, notwithstanding the opposition of her stormy husband. The young bridesmaid and Cloudesley also expressed their determination to stand by their friends to the last. Their patience was not put to a very long test. In a few days a packet was to sail from Benedict to Baltimore, and the young couple took advantage of the opportunity, and departed, with the good wishes of their few devoted friends. Their destination was Toronto, in Canada, where the young ensign's regiment was quartered. 92 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR PA11T SECOND. CHAPTER VII. SANS 8OUCI. A little child, a limber elf, Pin King, dancing to itself. A fairy thing, with red, round cheeks, That always finds and never pecks. Makes such a joy unto the fight, As fills a parent's eyes with light." Coleridge. SEVKKAL miles from the manor of Luckenongh, upon a hill not far frori the sea-coast, stood the cottage of the Old Fields. There was nothing sublime or beautiful, or in any respect attractive about the place, unless indeed the Very dreariness of its aspect might have a curious interest for the chance traveler. The house was a small, square edifice, of dingy white, shaded by a single large elm, and surrounded by a somewhat dilapi- dated fence. Around it on all sides lay exhausted old fields, in a state of almost absolute sterility. Beyond them, landward, stretched the old forest of S* Mary's, and seaward, the beach, and the waters of the bay. An attempt had been made to cultivate the miserable soil nearest the house, and a garden of half-blighted vegetables, and a field of stunted corn, that lay withering under the burning heat of an August sun, added to the unpromising appearance o? the whole. In short, nothing could be more desolate and THE MISSING BRIDE. 93 hopeless than the aspect of Old Fields' Cottage, at the time of which we write. The house contained but two rooms, one on the ground floor, which served as kitchen, parlor, and sitting-room, and one just above, which, being nothing more than a loft, was, nevertheless, the sleeping apartment of the whole family. The property was an appendage to the Manor of Luck- enough, and was at this time occupied by a poor relation of Commodore Waugh, his niece, Mary L'Oiseau, the widow of a French eniigrec. Mrs. L'Oiseau had but one child, a little girl, Jacquelina, now about eight or nine years of age. Commodore Waugh had given them the cottage to live in, with permission to make a living, if they could, out of the poor land attached to it. This was all the help he had afforded his poor niece, and all, as she said, that she could reasonably ex- pect from one who had so many dependants. For several years past the little property had afforded her a bare subsistence. And now this year the long drought had parched up her garden and corn-field, and her cows had failed in their yield of milk for the want of grass. It was upon a dry and burning day, near the last of August, that Mary L'Oiseau and her daughter sat down to their frugal breakfast. And such a frugal breakfast I the cheapest tea, with brown sugar, and a corn cake baked upon the griddle, and a little butter that was all ! It was spread upon a plain pine toble without a table-cloth. The furniture of the room was in keeping a sanded floor, a chest of drawers, with a small looking-glass, ornamented b) 1 a sprig of asparagus, a dresser of rough pine shelves on the rijfht of the fire-place, and a cupboard on the left, a half-dozen chip-bottorr.ed chairs, a spinning-wheel, and a reel and jack, completed the appointments. The heart of the widow was sore, too sore for comfort or hope, as she sat down to the table for poor as this meal was, it was almost the last, and there was no hope. And now not even f ,he glad bea-Uy of her charming, though willtui child, her 94 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, little Jacquelina, nor the quaint talk of Jenny, who had comt over that morning from Luckenough, could divert her from Ler sadness. " Look yer, Miss Mary ! Don't you set down dere in idle- ness, an' 'spair 'an 'cuse Providence, 'cause fortin don't com* an' walk into de door. You up an' try somet'in'." ' Why what can I try, Jenny ?" " Anyt'in' 'ply to Congress for a penance for what yer fa- tner did in the Rebelutionary War 1" Mary laughed now, but answered, gravely, " I do not think I like such things it's troublesome and ex- pensive, and if we should get anything, which is doubtful, there are eight brothers and sisters of us, among whom the pittance would have to be divided, and it wouldn't be the least worth while." " Trufe is, Old Marse ought to do more for you 'an he does !* " How can he ? He educates his two nephews, Cloudeslej Mornington and Thurston Willcoxen, and helps a good many others besides." " I don't care ! I don't care, Miss Mary ! He got plenty I An' he's yer own flesh an' blood. An' I were you I'd take my chile, an' I'd go to Luckenough, an' I'd sit right down on top o' Old Nick Waugh for the rest o' my days ! that I would ! 'deed me ! Case he daren't 'ny you the shelter of his ruff, no way, an' you a lady, an' his 'lation, too." " Why, do you really suppose I could do such a dishono- rable, bold, obtrusive thing as that, Jenny ? I would starve to death first." " Well, chile, everybody to their tastes. I shouldn't 'fer to starve myself. Deed me ! Well ! anyhow, here's a 'pisile de Commodore sont yer." "A letter! Why you never said a word about having a letter for me!" " Lor', chile, to be sure. Why what you think I come all de way over her' if it wa'n't for to bring a letter or- somet'iu' ?" said Jenny, fumbling in her bosom, and producing the missive "And why dida ; you give it to me before ?" THE MISSING BEIDE. 95 'Oh! taint no quinsequonce ! I knowu it wur nuffin' hut about Miss Edy's goin' an' marryin' o' the Britisher! Sure he don't do nuffin' 'tall but talk about it, an' write about it, an' 1 thought how I'd jest leave you finish your breakfast 'fore I sturved your mind wid sich!" said Jenny, with a shrug. Mrs. L'Oiseau was devouring the contents of the letter, which ran thus " Mary, My Dear 1 I feel as if I had somewhat neglected you, but, the truth is, my arm is not long enough to stretch from Luckenough to Old Fields. That being the case, and myself and Old Hen being rather lonesome since Edith's ungrate- ful desertion, we beg you to take little Jacko, and come and live with us as long as we may live and of what may come after that we will talk at some other time. If you will be ready I will send the carriage for you on Saturday. " Your Uncle Nick." Mrs. L'Oiseau read this letter with a changing cheek when she finished it she folded and laid it aside in silence. As her humble old friend, Jenny, knew nothing of its contents, she did not feel quite justified in informing her just yet. "It was about Miss Edy's going away, wa'n't it, Miss Mary?" * "Yes." "/knowedit!" Here the conversation dropped. And, Jenny, after kindly remaining "to clear up the breakfast things," took her leave and her departure. Then Mary called to her side her child her Jacquelina her Sans Souci as for her gay, thoughtless temper she was called. I should here describe the mother and daughter to you. The mother needs little description a pale, black-haired, black-eyed woman, who should have been blooming and sprightly, but that cure had damped her spirits, and cankered the roses in her cheeks. But Jacquelina Sans Souci merits a better portrait. She was small and Alight f6r her years, and, though realty 96 MIEIAM, THE AVENGEE; OR, near nin?, would have been taken for six or seven. She was fair-skinr.ed, blue-eyed and gc Iden-haired. And her countenance, full of spirit, courage, and audacity. As she would dart her face upward towards the sun, her round, smooth, highly polished white forehead would seem to laugh in light between its cluster- ing curls of burnished gold, that, together with the little, slightly Mimed up nose, and short, slightly protruded upper lip, gate the charm of inexpressible archness to the most mischievous countenance alive. In fact her whole form, features, expression, and gestures seemed instinct with mischief mischief lurked in the kinked tendrils of her bright hair ; mischief looked out and Jaughed in the merry, malicious blue eyes ; mischief crept slyly over the bows of her curbed and ruby lips ; and mischief played at hide and seek among the rosy dimples of her blooming cheeks. Her eager, restless spirit gave a startling quickness, abrupt- ness, and eccentricity to all her motions ; yet such was the ineffable grace of every movement, uniting smoothness with swiftness, that she reminded the beholder of some beautiful bird or frolicsome kid. She seldom walked, but ran or darted like a lap-wing with this peculiarity her figure leaning forward, and her bright head dipping downward in the swiftness of her flight. She would generally impress you with two distinct feelings. When she happened to be still with the idea of danger, as in the proximity of gunpowder, an evil spirit, or, at the very least, of a most artful and dangerous monkey, whose devices it * r ere impossible to foresee, or forestall. And when she chanced to be active, she inspired you with the hunter's instinct to chase, catch, and delight in her capture, just as if she had been some wild bird darting from bush to bush, or some wanton doe abandoning herself to a delirium of play. Upon the present occasion, Madam L'Oiseau found Sans Souci swinging up and down upon the lowest limber branch of the old elm that overshadowed the house. She called her in. and with Bcai'cely restrained joy, communicated to her the contents of her THE MISSING BBIDE. 97 uncle's note, and the vague hopes of future inheritance they in spired concluding with, " Now, Jacquelina, you must cure yourself of these hoydenish tricks of yours before you expose them to your uncle remember how whimsical and eccentric he is." "So ami! Just as whimsical ! I'll do him dirt," said iho young lady. 'Good Heaven! '"Where did you ever pick up such a phrase, and what upon earth does doiug any one ' dirt ' mean ?" asked tho very much shocked lady. " I mean I'll grind his nose on the ground, I'll hurry him and worry him, and upset him, and cross him, and make him run his head against the wall, and butt his blundering brain's out. Wha* did he turn Fair Edith away for? Oh! Fll pay him off! J'fl settle with him ! Fair Edith shan't be in his debt for her injuries very long." From her pearly brow and pearly cheeks, " Fair Edith" wa c the name by which the child had heard her cousin once called, and she had called her thus ever since. Mrs. L'Oiseau answered gravely, " Your uncle gave Edith a fair choice between his own love and protection, and the great benefits he had in store for her, and the love of a stranger and foreigner, whom he disapproved and hated. Edith deliberately chose the latter. And your uncle had a perfect right to act upon her unwise decision." "And for my part Iknow he hadn't all of my own thoughts. Oh ! I'll do him" " Hush ! Jacquelina. You shall not use such expressions. So much comes of my letting you have your own way, running down to the beach and watching the boats, aud hearing the vnl- giir talk of the fishermen." "I know a tall young waterman I know a handsome waterman 1 Know a jolly waterman 1'hat sails upon the sea!" sang the fairy shaking her golden curls in the greatest glco 6 98 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, She had a most beautiful voice, that gave an ineffable charm eveu to the most common-place words and air. "There! oh, Mary! just listen to her! all sorts of low songs and catches ! Well 1 thank Heaven, all this will be changed when you get to Luckenough ! Dear me, I can hardly realize that we are going there. I don't realize it at all. It will be a very great change. Well, thank Heaven, at any rate it will be nearer the church, and we shall have the use of a carriage, and can go every Sunday. And, perhaps, your uncle will send you to school or get a teacher for you into the house. And who knows but he will make you his heiress, Jacquelina ! You must try to please him." " I'd as soon try to please Old Satan ! And all to get his money, too ! Do you think Pd try to cut Fair Edith out ? Oh I Mimmy !" "Don't say 'cut-out,' that is low, too; say undermine but it will not be undermining Edith. She has already, through her foolish attachment to that young man, lost her inheritance." "I don't think Fair Edith was foolish at all. He was nice and he wore, oh ! such a beautiful coat ! And I don't wonder Fair Edith loved him. For, indeed, I loved him myself. And I shall tell uncle so, too, if he asks we." " You'll spoil your fortune, that I see plainly enough, if I let you go on so." " I'll spoil uncle's notion of his. He shan't think his fortune is everything to bribe everybody to do everything he pleases, right or wrong !" answered the- willful elf, with that graceful dip of her head, as she suddenly darted out of the doors and ran no one knew whither it was one of her tricks. " Sans Souci " was an excessively fascinating, and, there- fore a thoroughly spoiled child. Her willfulness had such courage and candor and honesty in it and such a witching grace, as disarmed her very gravest mentors. This was unfor- tunate, as her willfulness was impulsive rather thau obstinate, and by steady, firm, and gentle discipline, might have been overcome, or, at least, modified and guided. As it was, it waa THE MISSING BRIDE. 99 cultivated until it grew and flourished a very strong weed it (he garden of her soul often graceful and beautiful, it is true, but also noxious to the health of all the flowers of beauty and goodness implanted by God and nature there. Do not blame my poor little " Careless " blame her mother, her pastors and masters, if you please, but not herself too much. Life lav be- fore her with its awful chastisements. And be sure that the plant of bitterness that might have been so easily drawn up from the yielding soil of her child-bosom, but had been permit- ted to strike deep, strong roots in her heart, would be up- rooted and torn forth some time by the hand of life, though the lacerated bosom should bleed itself to death. On Saturday, at the hour specified, the carriage came to Old Field Cottage, and conveyed Mrs. L'Oiseau and her child to Luckenough. They were very kindly received by the Commo- dore, and affectionately embraced by Henrietta, who conducted them to a pleasant room, where they could lay off their bon- nets, and which they were thenceforth to consider as their own apartment. This was not the one which had been occupied by Edith. Edith's chamber had been left undisturbed and locked up by Mrs. Waugh, and was kept ever after sacred to her memory. The sojourn of Mrs. L'Oiseau and Jacquelina at Luckenough was an experiment on the part of the Commodore. He did not mean to commit himself hastily, as in the case of his sudden choice of Edith as his heiress. He intended to take a good, long time for what he called " mature deliberation" often one of the greatest enemies to upright, generous, and disinterested action to hope, faith, and charity, that I know of, by the way. Commodore Waugh also determined to have his own will in all things, this time at least- He had the vantage ground now, and was resolved to keep it. He had caught Sans Souci young, before she could possibly have formed even a childish predilection for one of the opposite sex, and he was determined v> raise and educate a wife for his beloved Grim'. Grim' coula 100 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, certainly wait six or seven years for the sake of a great estate and a young wife, and in six or seven years the child of nine would be marriageable, he thought his wish, of course, " was father to that thought." And in the meantime he resolved to keep such a watch over Jacquelina, that no fascinating voung oSicer, nor anybody else, should run away with her heart. And all these counsels he kept to himself not trusting even Hen- rietta with them. He sent Jacquelina to school at C . She went every morning on a pony, with a servant to attend her, and to remain in the village all day, and to bring her home at night. This continued through the summer and fall, but towards winter, when the roads began to be very bad, it was necessarily discontinued. It was a part of Commodore Waugh's plan not to send Sans Souci away from home, or to let her out of his own surveillance. Therefore upon the en- forced suspension of her attendance ai school, he was very much embarrassed as to how he should proceed with her edu- cation. At length a bright thought struck him. Professor Grimshaw had lately returned to C Academy, after an absence of several months. Dr. Grimshaw would, doubtless, resume his semi-weekly visits to Luckenough, for no bad wea- ther or bad roads had ever yet deterred him. Well ! when next Grim' came to the house, Old Nick would let him some- what into his plans, and engage him upon every visit to set lessons to Jacquelina, which she should learn in the intervals, and to take the general supervision of her education. The longer he contemplated this plan the better he liked it, and the more he improved it. Dr. Grimshaw should also be Jacque- lina's escort from church every Sunday, when he usually ac- companied the family home to dinner. And this was the waj be should manage that. Jacquelina should no longer go with himself and his wife in the carriage she should ride the pony, ind as Grim' also always rode horseback, he would thus be obliged to escort the only equestrian female of the party. Oh, he knew how to manage, he chuckled to himself! he would so betimes accustom Sans Souci to Grim' that she would not be THE MISSING BRIDE. 101 able to do without him, and so drill her into the idea that IK was to be her future husband, that she should not be able tc dream of anybody else in that relation. Meanwhile the Com- modore became very fond of his little " Thoughtless," and she began to like her uncle's petting and caressing so much as to forget her resolution " to pay him for his behavior to Edith," and took no unusual pains to annoy him. But, alas, without any painstaking, and by merely following out her impulses, Sans Souci annoyed the old man excessively. And his trou- bles increased in proportion with his love for the hare-brained child. For one thing, she was incessantly running herself into danger, that kept her self-constituted guardian in perpetual tremors. Then she was always starting forbidden subjects, or making terribly unfortunate speeches, which always shocked Henrietta, enraged the Commodore, and kept her poor mother on the qui vive. For instance, after her first night at Luckenough, in the morning, at breakfast, her uncle asked her, "Well, Flibbertigibbet! how did you like your hammock and quarters ?" " Hammock and quarters ?" " Yes, your bed and your room, I mean ?" " Oh ! why, not at all ! it was very large and gloomy it smelt dreadfully damp and musty, and the rats and mice ran about in the walls so much, that I could not sleep a wink ! Say, uncle, mother says you may leave this old house to me, when you die Now, please don't, for indeed I wouldn't live in it for anything in the world, and if ever you give it to me, I shall just set fire to it and burn it down, as sure as you do !" Here was an explosion ! The Commodore darted a look of rage at poor Mrs. L'Oiseau, who blushed violently, and faltered out that she had only meant to bribe Jacquelina into being a good girl that she, for herself, desired and expected nothing of the sort, of course heaven forbid! The Commodore would uot affront a iady, and his relative, at his own board. Ho gulped down his angel s he could, and abruptly rose from Ins 102 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OB, seat, and left the table. And it was some time before he re- covered his serenity. Mrs. L'Oiseau led her child to her own room, and ?oui- menced a tearful expostulation with her upon the subject of her habitual thoughtlessness, and the continual mischief that it caused. Sans Souci gazed at her mother in the utmost amaze- ment. " Why, mother, what did I say ? How should it have made such trouble ?" Mrs. L'Oiseau attempted to make her understand. In vain I " I only repeated your own words, Mimmy how could they have been improper ?" And upon one particular Sabbath day, Sans Souci fell into an unprecedented number of mistakes and misfortunes. The whole family at Luckenough, with the exception of herself, had remained at home, but she was sent to church for the whole day in charge of Doctor Grimshaw, who was one of the teachers of the Sunday-school. And the restless fairy had felt herself dreadfully bored by the long catechism lessons of the morning, the longer service and sermon of the forenoon, and the repeti- tion of the whole matter in the afternoon. So she arrived home in the evening thoroughly exasperated by the confine- ment and discipline of the day. She met the family circle at the supper table. Doctor Grimshaw, after having brought her home, had departed. "Well, Jacko 1 who did you see at church ?" asked her uncle, pinching her ear. "Jacko" twitched herself away, impatiently exclaiming, " All the people ! Such a dismal looking set ! I don't want t<> go there again ! I wont, neither ! There, now !" " Why, Monkey, I'm sure Doctor Grimshaw is a very pleasant looking gentleman !" "No he isn't, neither! He is worse than all the rest! a ong-legged, black old Orge ! He tired me to death with hard questions at the Sunday-school. He made me learn ' The Seven Deadly Sins' before he would let me go out!'' exclaimed J-wquelina, indignantly THE MISSING BRIDE, 103 "Well, but, Lapwing! didn't he reward you for it? Didn't he give you those pretty pictures I saw you put between the leaves of your mass book ?" inquired Mrs. Henrietta. " S'pose I did, I put them there to get them out of my sight. Pretty pictures, indeed ! They are not pretty at all ! Ugly things. Sorrowful women shrouded in black, with the whites of their eyes turned up 1 And horrid old men in ugly hoods, with skulls and cross-bones before them 1 Pretty ? Ugh I" exclaimed Jacquelina, shuddering. " My dear child, it is very sinful in you to talk in that way they were pictures of blessed saints and holy hermits," said Mrs. L'Oiseau. " Were they ? Well, now, how was I to know they were blessed and holy, when they looked so wicked and miserable ?" " Oh, my child, my child, couldn't you read the inscriptions nnder them ?" " No, how could I ? They were in Dutch !" " In Latin, my dear! In Latin! the universal language of the church." " Well, it's all one to me, who don't know a word of what it means only I know it all makes me sad and angry, and I dreadfully hate 'The Seven Deadly Sins,' and black shrouds and turned up eyes, and skulls and cross-bones I do ! There I" " What is the next lesson you have to learn in the cate- chism !" "Why you know just what comes next the 'Four Sins that 3ry to Heaven for Vengeance.' And Doctor Grimshaw said if I would learn them well by next Sunday, he would give me another picture. And he showed it to me. It was another olcssed picture of a man roasting on a gridiron!" exclaiuiea Sans Souci, as near bursting into tears as the fairy could be. " But I wont learn the ' Four Sins that cry to Heaven for Vengeance' to please nobody indeed wont I ! and then to have a premium of a man roasting on a gridiron ! It makes my head open and shut to think about it ! And I can't stand it 110 how. indeed can't I. that's flat! I wish I was a boy. and 104 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, I'd run away and seek my fortune like Jack, that I would! Cloudy Morning, he's going to sea, he says. And if people don't leave me be, with their skulls and cross-bones, and roasted men, I'll put myself in boy's clothes and run . away, and be a snilor, too ! that I will !" The Commodore roared with laughter he always did at Sans Souci's willfulness, when it did not come in contact with his own. But the tears rushed to Mrs. L'Oiseau's eyes, and she began to expostulate, saying, " Oh, my dear, my dear little girl, don't, don't talk so rudely and violently. I know, of course, you never in the world could do anything like that, but still, don't talk of such horrid things, my dear. You must be sweet, and gentle and docile, like the dear little children of the Nuns' school that you saw in church to-day." " What were they all dressed in white for, Mimmy ?" aoked Jacquelina, curiously. "Why, their white dresses were emblematic of their spotless innocence." "Umph hum! I know now. And were the black dresses of the nuns emblematic of the other?" 11 Oh, you wicked child 1 No, they wear black as a badge of their retirement from the world, and their devotion to heaven." "Is black the favorite color in heaven, Mimmy?" " Jacquelina, I have heard it said that a child can ask more questions in a minute than a sage can answer in a century, aiid I believe it." "And that's what you so often tell me, Mimmy! Nobody ever did answer all my questions, and take pains to give me satisfaction, except Fair Edith ! but then there were few like her/ Sorrow the day she went away!" The master of the house, who had been laughing until this moment, now suddenly changed his countenance, laid down Li? knife and fork and looking sternly at his little niece said. THE MISSING BRIDE. 105 " That is a name I never permit to be mentioned by any on-= under this roof!" Sans Souci pursed up her lips, and stretched her eyes. " Indeed !" she said. " That's mighty unlucky now 1 becanso 1 had rather talk about Fair Edith than repeat the prettiest verses, and I'm sure I shall never remember to forget her.- " You had better do so, Miss, I assure you," said the Com- modore. "Oh! Jacquelina !" exclaimed her mother, in a low, anxious remembered these days and nights with a soul wrung with remorse, to think how little at the time she had appreciate! the lovely self-devotion of the young girl. When Edith was able to go down stairs, a very different scene to what the cottage grounds usually presented, met her view. Marian bad industriously occupied herself with the adornment of the outside as well as the inside of the house. She had laid the little yard off in borders and beds, and fer- tilized them well with seaweed, and stable compost, and kitchen slops, and in short, with every refuse animal and vegetable mat- ter, that would otherwise have littered the premises and she had planted flowers and sowed seeds and trained neglected vines, until the barren waste immediately around the house "bloomed and blossomed as a rose." 4nd every shutter) ess window was deeply shaded with flowering annual creepers. The kitchen garden, a little beyond, was also in a forward state of progress. Everything about the little home was metamor- phosed, as by an angel's hand. But, alas, the young mistress of the house could take no pleasure in it. Her heart continued "exceeding sorrowful, even unto death," and ''would not be comforted, because hi was not" 152 MIKIAM, THE AVENGEE; OR, But Marian was not disheartened. "Edith," she said, reverently, "too much, perhaps, I have relied'upon simple nature to heal your heart. Go, Edith, to the God and Father of nature to your Father and Creator, who made your heart, and endowed it with those great affec- tions so liable to suffer, who knows as none eke can know how the wound lies, and how to heal it. Go, Edith, to your Maker. Seek Him earnestly, seek Him constantly, in prayer, until He blesses you. Sweep aside, as so many flies, all doubts and fears, and all conflicting creeds and doctrines about Him! And go, a spirit, to the Father of Spirits find the comfort there is in God, the Consoler! Oh! Edith, they tell us of God the Creator, God the Father; and awful, and beautiful, and joyous words they are indeed ; ' Great tidings of great joy.' But, oh ! Edith, none but the wretched, the forsaken, the be reaved, and the stricken in heart, who seek Him, know the in finite rest and comfort, ' the peace that passeth understanding,' the Divine joy found in GOD THE CONSOLER!" "And is that the secret of your happiness, Marian ?" " That is the cause of my happiness, not the secret ; God's glorious light is no secret but to the willfully blind!" And thus this household angel of the Lord led the mourner from the darkness of her sorrows into the Glorious Light. CHAPTER XII. OUR FAY " A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, bewilder, and waylay." Wordsworth. AUNTY, I am going to see Fair Edith's baby," said" .lacqne- i, following Mrs Waugh up and down, as that good 1-ady THE MISSING BEIDE. 153 went through the old house, opening the creaking windows, and airing the musty rooms, that breezy May morning " Do you hear me, aunty? I am going to see Fair Edith's baby." ''But I cannot give you leave to do so, Lapwing; your uncle's orders are peremptory upon that point." "I didn't ask leave, aunty ! and as for uncle's orders, you didn't mind them when you went !" "Hem hem-m! That is a very different thing, Lapwing, of which you are not competent to judge. When the com- mands of any human being in authority clash with the com- mands of God, we must obey the Creator rather than the creature. Justice and humanity required that I should for once disregard your uncle's will, because it was not right. But re- member this, Jacquelina, that if your uncle is not always exactly right, it is because no human being possibly can be perfect and he is not, upon that account, the less entitled to your re- spect and obedience." Jacquelina swallowed a rising yawn, and said, "Well, I don't know whether it is 'justice and humanity,' bnt something requires me to go and see Fair Edith's baby." " I can tell you its name, Lapwing it is caprice." " Well, anyway, I think I, too, shall disregard uncle's wishes, because they are not right, and go, as you did, aunty. 'What's good for the gander is good for the goose.' " "Yes, but, Lapwing, what's good for the goose may be fatal to the gosling, as disobedience often is to a child." "Aunty, I tell you I'm going to see Fair Edith's baby, and the beautiffil English girl, that everybody in the village says is as beautiful as all the angels ! Mind if I don't 1 I don't care \ohat Ole Marse say, as Jenny says." " Jenny is getting insolent, I'm afraid ; she's no example to you. And you must obey your uncle." They had, by this time, reached the door of the room formerly occupied by Edith. Mrs. Waugh unlocked it, and entered, followed by Jacquelina. The good lady then hoisted all the windows, and threw open all the shutters, and a-flocd ol Ugi* 154 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, poured in, filling every nook and corner of the room. The place remained just as Edith had left it nearly twelve months before. Here, in addition to the heavy and permanent furni- ture appertaining to the bed-chamber, were articles that should have been considered Edith's own peculiar personal property. A small book-case, with glass doors, through which you could read the titles of a well-selected set of books ; a small writing- desk furnished ; a neat work-stand ; a pretty work-box ; a low sewing-chair and foot-cushion; two port-folios, filled with drawings and engravings, upon the table ; small framed pic- tures on the walls ; and statuettes of saints and angels on the mantel-piece. Jacquelina had not entered this chamber since Edith's de parture, and she looked around with curiosity, and then turning to Mrs. Waugh with surprise, said, "Why, aunty, I thought uncle had sent all Fair Edith's things to her the day after she was married ?" " He sent her wardrobe and jewelry, but these other things he considered belonged to the room, and not to Edith." "But, didn't he buy them and give them to her ?" "Yes, to ornament her room, not to take away," he says. "Oh, that was so " mean, she was going to say, but Jac- quelina sometimes restrained herself. "Aunty, why don't you just have them packed up and sent right over to Old Field ?" "Because, Lapwing, I have no right to do so. Your uncle insists that they are not Edith's, and they were not purchased with my funds ; therefore, Lapwing, I have no right to send Jtem, as I had to send the other things." " Why don't you ask uncle to let you send them ?" "I did, Lapwing, and he refused." "I'll go ask him myself! I just will! I reckon he better not refuse me !" And Jacquelina flew to find the Commodore. She might have been gone ten minutes, and Mrs. Waugh, having finished her errand in the room, was about to leave it, and close the door, when Jacquelina came flying back, her fair brow flushed, and her blue eves stormy with indignation. THE MISSING BKIDE. 155 " "Well, Lapwing, did you find your uncle and ask him ?" 'Yes, I did." " And wtat did he say ?" " He liked to bit ray head off ! An ugly old snapping turtle ' But I'll pay him for it!" Henrietta did not fail to reprove "the little vixen" for her irreverent threats, and then the aunt and niece separated for the time. Mrs. Waugh to make her old soldier presentable in company, and Jacquelina to seek her mother in her own apart- ment. " Come in, my child ; you must hurry now, and get dressed for church 1" " For church again this morning, Mimmy ! Now you don't say that, after going to church all day yesterday, you're going all day to-day ?" "Yes, my dear, we are all going. Your uncle and aunt and myself are going in the carriage. And you are to ride the dapple gray. Professor Grimshaw will be here to attend you." " I should like to know what you are all going to church to-day for 1" "It is a holiday of obligation my dear." "A holiday of obligation ! Why this is Monday ! a working day of obligation ! According to the commandment, there are six of them in the week, and the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord, and the only holiday of obligation we read of!" " Jacquelina ! I wont stand that ! I really wont ! I have put up with your whimsicalities and perversities, but your here- sies I will not permit I That would be fatal indulgence in- deed!" " "Well, but Mimmy ! Do tell me, why should the command- ment of the Lord be set aside, and one of His six working days of obligation be made a holiday of obligation ?" " i "ou have no business to ask questions, Jacquelina ! But for your instruction I will inform jou that this is the day of the Holy and blessed Saint Bonniface !" "Well, I hope the borny-fa< ed saint is bonny in Ivs temper, 156 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, too, and wont take it amiss if, 'stead of going to church to do nim honor, I stay at home to do the Lord some service." "What on earth do you mean, you little irreverent. Oh- holy saints ! what loill ever become of this child 1 Go directly and call Maria, to get you ready for church." "But indeed I can't go, Mirnmy! Ton my word, I've got something very particular to do for the Lord, at home ! I have indeed !" " I do believe the child has taken leave of her senses," said Mrs. L'Oiseau, going to the door, and calling, " Maria, take Miss Jacquelina and get her ready for church." "Oh 1 I can't go 1 I can't I Indeed, indeed, indeed, I can't, Mimmy ! I have got such an awful ear-ache!" " Ear ache ! what should have given you an ear-ache ? This is not the weather for taking cold !" "No, but uncle bawled at me till he made them ache. Oh ! I know if I go to church I shall have to be taken out and brought home. Oh ! oh ! oh ! how my ears do ache !" What is the need to detail all the imp's perversity. She conquered, as she was generally permitted to do. And all the family departed without her. All the house-servants, except Maria, and all the field labor- ers, except Stupe, had also gone to church. This last named individual was a sort of nondescript functionary about the pre- mises useful in nothing but implicit and literal obedience sometimes a dangerous gift, as the Commodore had once proved, when in sending Stupe with a candle to the cellar one night to unpack some hampers of champagne, he had said, " And now be sure to set the straw a-fire, you black rascal." "When, half-an-hour after, the boy returned, the master asked, in some anxiety, " Did you set anything on fire, you scoundrel ?" " Yes, sir, I sot de straw a-fire, as you tel'ed me, but de cellar is so damp it wont burn good !" You may fancy the terror, confusion and trouble, before the flames could be extinguished. This incurable thick-headednest THE MISSING BRIDE. 157 bad fastened upon him the sobriquet r>f Stupid or Stupe his real name was Festus. Jacquelina relied upon Stupe as the tool of the plan she had in view for the day. She waited until she thought the church party had got a mile or two away, and then she went out of the front door to look for him. She found him in the front yard trimming the grass. " Hi, Festus ! what are you doing there when you ought to be getting up the cart ?" " The cart, Miss ?" repeated Stupe, staring with all his eyes. " Certainly, the cart. Of course, the cart! What are you thinking of? I lay anything you had better let your old Marse come back and find you havn't got the cart up 1" " I wasn't 'tending nothing else, miss. I wasn't thinking 'bout getting no cart up !" " Pshaw ! you blockhead, I mean you better not let him come and find you havn't got it up." " Oh ! yes, miss ! What is I got to do ?" " Catch a strong horse, and hitch him to the single horse eart, and bring it up to the door, now, directly ! Make haste, now !" " Yes, miss," and Stupe ran off to do her bidding, while Jacquelina entered the house to equip herself for a ride. Maria was mending her own clothes in her mistress's room. Jacquelina called to her Maria, you have just got to come down here, and help me o pack up these things. Uncle I mean aunty, is going to send to Fair Edith I mean Mrs. Shields." "What things, Miss Lina?" asked the maid, leaning over tho balustrades. " These things in her old room, you stupid thing, you T . Didn't you see aunty take me in the room this morning, aad point them out to me ?" "Yes. miss, I saw you and mist'ess go in there." "Well, then, come along, and help me to pack the thingg one wants to send to Old Fields.' 1 158 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, The maid came down without the slightest demur or doubt, so much was she carried away by the assured manner of het little mistress. By the time they had wrapped up all the statuettes and vases, and had taken down all the pictures, and packed up all the nooks in a large trunk, they heard the sound of the horse-cart drawing up before the door. Then Jacquelina went out, and called Stupe in to help to lift all the furniture out. The book- case and the writing-desk, the work-stand and the work-box, the sewing-chair and the foot-stool, the box of pictures, the box of statuettes, and the trunk of books, were all taken in turn, and carefully packed into the cart. It was a light load for a strong horse, and when all was put in, Jacquelina locked the room door, hung up the key, and told Stupe to help her up into the cart, as she was to go with the things. Here, for the first time, Maria made some objection. " You musn't go, indeed, Miss Lina 1 You know you've cotched cold a'ready, and has got sich a berry bad ear-ache !" " My ear-ache is well ! And I'd like to see who'll stop me I" said Sans Souci, leaping, with Stupe's assistance, up into the cart. Stupe walked by the side of the horse, cracked his whip, and the cart started, leaving poor Maria behind, in doubt and un- easiness, not at all upon account of the furniture and the books but on account of Jacquelina's whim of accompanying them. The cart proceeded on its way tolerably well, until they got into the bad road leading through the forest. Now, poor Stupe was a miserable driver, and there is no knowing how soon their necks might have been broken, had they not chanced to meet Cloudesley Mornington, on his way to the hall. " Oh 1 Cloudy I Cloudy Morning ! I am so glad to see you 1 I just want you to help me in a splendid piece of of " "Mischief?" " No !" said Sans Souci, indignantly. " You always think mischief. No a piece of good work, sir." "You had better let me get up there in Stupe's place aud drive he'll smash the cart, an j endanger your life, yet." THE MISSING BRIDE. 159 " That's just what I want you to do, Cloudy 1" " What ? Smash the cart and throw you out ?' "No, you know it isn't 1 I want you to get up and drive* Cut were you going to the hall ?" "Yes!" " Well, then, you can just let Stupe take your horse, and lead him to the house, while you drive on to Old Fields." " Is it there you're going ?" "Yes." "Whew!" " Xow, what did you say ' whew ' for ? Never mind, get in, and I'll tell you all about it as we go along." Cloudesley threw the bridle to the boy, and sprang upon the seat near Jacquelina, and drove on. When Stupe was left far behind, Sans Souci explained to Cloudesley tne ousiness that she was upon. " Cloudy" looked very grave for awhile, and " Lina," he said, " this looks to me, very much like not ex- actly shop-lifting, but house-lifting, if one might call it so !" " It's no such thing, now, Cloudy ! There ! Aunty and every- body think Edith ought to have them, because they know unclo did give her the things, though now he wants to withhold them out of curiousnessl But never mind, Mr. Cloudy! If you. don't want to go with me if you are afraid, you may just get down, and go back, and I'll call Stupe -he's not afraid, poor slave boy as he is 1" "Pooh! It was not myself, but you I was thinking of ! You! to dare your uncle's anger so I" " Yes! I know he will be oh! he'll be awful! But I don't care ! not 1 1 Because, you know he daren't send and take the pretty things away from Fair Edith again that would be too shameful, and he knows it. So Fair Edith gets her things, I don't care how much he storms at me ! But mind, Cloudesley ! don't you let on how uncle didn't send them. Fair Edith will think that either he or aunty sent them, of com % se, and you just let her think so. And T *he asks any questions leave the talk- 'n? to me " 160 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, " Oh I of course you'd take the floor, whether it were given yon or not." By this time they had got out of the forest, and into the open country and good roads. " Now make Samson travel ! You know he'll have a good time to rest at Old Fields, and no load to bring back." "Except a load of sin!" said Cloudesley, as he put whip to the powerful draught horse, and- they moved rapidly on. They soon came in sight of the sea-shore, and soon after came upon the little cottage, now half concealed in climbing and clustering vines, azure morning glories, rose-colored and purple ; flowering peas, and scarlet running beans, climbed up and shaded all the windows, and overran the little lattice work over the door. In the yard before the cottage were blooming damask roses, and 'white lilies, golden head daffodils and jonquils, blue hyacinths, variegated tulips, and other swee'. spring flowers. In the door, canopied more royally than a queen by the over- arching vines, stood Marian, with her white dress and amber- hued tresses fluttering in the breeze. " Oh ! My ! how pretty ! Did you did you ever see any- thing near so pretty ?" "Which do you mean, the cottage or the young lady?" " Oh ! all together ! both ! the picture. Oh I My ! how gweet!" exclaimed Jacquelina, as they pulled up before the gate Marian, from her position, had recognized the blue cart, and Samson, the draught horse, from Luckenough, which had been at the cottage twice before to bring things sent by Mrs. Wau-gh to Edith. And now it was with more pleasure than surprise that ehe saw it once more stand well laden before the gate. She could not, however, recognize either of the young people, whom she had never seen before. Nevertheless, as soon as the cart atopped, she came down the walk smiling, and holding out her hand to the little girl that jumped off the cart and jerked open the gate, and rushed into the yard, exclaiming eagerly, 44 Where's the baby ?" "Who are you, my dear ?" inquired Marian, catching he* oand to restrain her, yet striling kindly on her all the time. THE M I 8 8 I X O BRIDE. 161 "' Oh ! You know ! Jacquelina 1 Uncle's niece I There'tf the cart with some things for Edith. Aunty's gone to church. Oh ! for goodness sake let me hurry in and see the baby." " Stay, my dear, here comes the young gentleman we must 6top for him." " Oh ! that's only Cloudy Morning. Cloudy ! Cloudy Morn- ing ! why don't you come along ? What makes you so bashful ? I declare if you ain't a-blushing like a hollyhock 1" And, in truth, Cloudesley was blushing, and had been hold- ing back a little, awed for the first time in his life by the beauty of a young girl. " She is not merely pretty she is beautiful, as beautiful as as Oh, Heavens ! what a charming, delightful face 1" exclaimed Cloudesley to himself, as he shook off his strange timidity, and met the young lady who was advancing to welcome him. Then Marian invited them into the house. Edith, fully recovered, sat in her rocking-chair with the infant in her lap. Sans Souci was about to fly to her, and, perhaps, seize the child the prize ! the wonder ! But the fair and fragile appearance of the young mother subdued her impetuosity, and she came softly to Edith's side and knelt down, and looked at the baby some time, lightly kissing its forehead several times, and saying, " Oh ! Fair Edith, I do love your little baby so much I May Cloudy come and see it ?" " Oh, yes," said Edith. " Oh ! Cloudy, do come and see the wonderfullest little beauty you ever saw in your life 1" And Cloudesley came, and took and pressed the hand that Edith held out to him, and then to conceal the tears that came rushing to his eyes, he stooped and tenderly lifted the infant from her lap and carried it off to the window. Jacquelina fcl- lowing him with, " Isn't it a beauty ? Oh ! Cloudy, isn't it a beauty ?" Cloudesley choked down his emotion, falteringly admired the baby, made believe to joke and pinch its cheek "to see if such a 10 162 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OB, queer little thing would cry," and then as soon as he had gathered self-command, he went back and laid the child on the mother's lap. Happily also, old Jenny entered the room just then, ana had to make her joyful greetings. And then Cloudesley, assisted by Jenny, went out to unload the cart. The things were brought in, and Marian, aided by Cloudesley, unpacked and arranged them. Meanwhile, Samson was unharnessed, watered, fed, and turned out to grass until the afternoon. Then Jenny kindled the fire and put on the tea-kettle for a coffee dinner to please poor Edith there was always a tea or coffee dinner at the cottage, as there is in many other houses where the family consists wholly of women and girls. There were, besides, nice light bread and fresh butter, a broiled chicken, cold beef tongue, and peach preserves with cream. Jacquelina and Cloudesley heartily enjoyed seeing the meal prepared under their own eyes on the neat village hearth, and Jacquelina assisted Marian to set out the little round table, and spread upon it the snowy cloth, and place on that the semi-transparent white ser- vice, that she declared "looked like refined moonlight." And as for Cloudesley, no alderman ever enjoyed his venison and turtle soup, eaten with a golden spoon, more than he did the coffee ; truth to tell, Cloudy was remarkable for his devotion to the Arabian berry. And in the cottage everything was so snug, so cool, and so pleasant, that beautiful spring day, and the bright little fire on the hearth was not inharmonious with the open doors and the fluttering white muslin curtains and overhang- ing vines, through the partings of which could be seen on one side of the house a view of the sea, and on the other the flower yard and fields and forest. The meal was so impromptu, so easy, and the party that gathered around the table so youthful, so keenly alive to pleasure in every form, even Edith's pale cheek brightened into smiles. Soon after dinner, Cloudy went to speak to Sans Souci, who at by the baby's cradle. " Lina, had I not better harness the horse to the cart, and get ready to start home ?" THE MISSING BRIDE. 163 " No 1" " But it is .setting late " " Now, Cloudy Morning, don't you fret yourself into a fidget J am going to stay till sundown, and go home by moonlight." "But, my dear Lina, what will your uncle say to you ?" " Why, he'll storm at me, dreadfully, and that he'll do any- how? It's as well to be hanged for a sheep as a Iambi yes, and better, I think. I like to have the worth of a scolding, if I am to get the scolding. I know there'll be a tremendous storming up at home, but I intend to earn it, every bit of it ; and then it will be such a satisfaction to know I deserved it, and that it was all right !" As the imp said this, her malicious blue eyes, blazing with mischief and defiance, met those of Marian fixed upon her- fixed most intensely upon her and most strange was the effect of that mutually encountering gaze upon the beautiful English girl. While yet unable to withdraw her fascinated eyes, her cheeks were overspread with a paleness, and sweeping her hand across her brow, as though to dispel some baleful vision, she Bank into a chair. So sudden was her pallor and her sinking, that Edith and Cloudesley sprang to her side. "You are sick you are sick, dear Marian, what is it? will you lie down ?" asked the former, while the latter brought a glass of water. " Thank you, how very strange and foolish," said the young girl, taking the glass and drinking the water, and then again passing her hand back and forth across her brow, as if to clear away a cloud. " What was it, dearest Marian, that made you ill !" " I really do not know ; I cannot account for it at all a sudden panic seized me and I fell it is passing away now in fact it i? past ;" smiling and blushing at the unaccountable emotion; "now, indeed, it is quite gone," she added, still more brightly smiling in Edith's anxious face, and rising and lightly shaking off all the clouds from her sunny presence ! Sans Souci stood by the window in the attitude and with tbe expression of deep thought. 164 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OK, " Cloudy." she said, as the youth approached her; "look at me have I got the evil eye ?" "Why, yes, to be sure you have! Didn't you know it before ?" " Now, Cloudy ; you just be serious, have I got the evil eye ?" asked the imp, in a low, fearful whisper. " Why, no, you little goose ; what makes you ask such a simple question?" " Why, because, just now when I was laughing and thinking of how I would do uncle, I happened to look up in Marian's face, and the instant she caught my eyes she turned pale and sank down, and I felt as if I had killed her." " Pooh ! your looking at her had nothing to do with It," said Cloudy ; " and now I tell you, Lina, we had better set out home, or we'll not get there by nine o'clock !" "And I don't care if we don't get there ti'U twelve 1 'In for a penny, in for a pound,' as Solomon Weismann says ; and be- sides, I've got ever so many things to see first, that Marian promised to show me." And so the Jay had ! First of all, she must go up stairs with Marian and see the pretty new chamber furniture, and alt the baby's pretty little clothes, that were laid away so nicely in an upper bureau drawer. And then she must see the wren's nest in the gourd out at the chamber window, and hear about its waking the family up with its singing early in the morning. And next, she had to visit the tortoiseshell cat and her two kittens ; and, lastly, she had to go down to the shed and see Lily, the handsome white Durham heifer, fed. And during all ihis time, the elf was so interested in the sweet life around her, and so modified by its subduing influences, that when at last she came in, hojding Marian's hand, she looked gentle and mild enough to have been Marian's little sister. Jenny had tea on the table, and Cloud esley had Samson harnessed to the cart. So, after tea, the young visitors took leave of Edith and Marian/ and kissed the forehead of the sleeping baby, and departed. Marian had put a beautiful posey in the hands of Jacqueliua, THE MISSING BRIDE. 16o telling her that the next time she went to Benedict, she would buy a little rocking chair, so that her little visitor should have a comfortable seat when she came again. " And I can rock the baby ?" " Yes !" said Marian, kissing her with her smiling, rosy lips. And then the cart drove off. Jenny walked by its side some distance to the first road gate, sending endless messages of respect and love and remembrance to every member of th household of Luckenough, from her master (" poor ole forsook benighted sinner," as she called him,) and her mistress, down to Stupe, the yard-sweeper. Meantime Marian had returned to the house, smiling, roseate, cheery as usual ; and making some pleasant remark about the departing visitors, she took her sewing and sat by the sea-view window to work. But Edith drew up to her side. " Marian, I want you to tell me, dear, what it really was that agitated you so ?" Marian laughed. " I accept all experiences in physiological phenomena, Edith, even that, strange and unaccountable as it was ? You will smile ; but as I happened to meet that child's blue eyes, blazing with an insufferable light, while her whole form dilated as instinct with mischief and charged with de- struction, I know not how it was, but some fell spirit, apart from the child, seemed yet to gaze at me and threaten me through her eyes ; and a sudden panic seized me, and I sank with the strangest impression, with the feeling of a strong marts arm catching me in a vice-like grip, and a sharp knife plunged into my chest " Marian shuddered in spite of herself. "It may be something it may be a presentiment or a vision or it may be nothing more than the effect of disordered nerves ; per- haps we drink too much coffee ; and yet I am perfectly well Bu. the affair is not worth so many words, dear Edith, and now that I have satisfied your curiosity, I will not give the subject another thought." And Marian resumed her needle-work, her fingers flying with accelerated speed to make up for lost time. Marian had sometime previous got through all the litt.1* 166 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OK, household sewing, and DOW she employed herself in working collars and caps, which she left at the village shops to be sold, and in the scarcity of such articles there, they commanded a ready sale. And now as Marian worked, she sang a favorite song. CHAPTER XIII. SANS SOUCl's FIRST GRIBF. " Jamie's on the stormy sea." New Song. MEANWHILE, Cloudesley and Jacquelina rode on through the woods " Oh ! I do love you better than anybody in the world, Cloudy !" exclaimed the child, throwing her arms around the young man's neck with one of her impetuous hugs and kisses. " I do love you more than anybody in the world I" ' So do I you, Lina! Only I know you wont let me tell you so a few years from this, when you get to be a young lady." " Wont I though, Cloudy! I should like to see myself not letting you. Cloudy?" " Well, Humming-bird ?' " I do believe you'd do anything in the world for me." " I believe so too, Lina." " Even if it was naughty ?" " I fear so, Lina at least, if I couldn't prevent your run- oing yourself into trouble and danger, I should have to go shares with you." " Well, now, Cloudy ! this is what I want you to do, just as soon as ever we get home you take your horse and go back to Benedict quietly, without coming into the house, of saying \*ord to anybody.'' THE MISSING BRIDE. 167 " And why should I do that ?" 11 Never mind ! because I ask you !" ' Now, Lina ! I know what you are up to! You want me to sneak back to the village, and leave you to bear all the brunt of the Commodore's wrath I Now, Lina, what would you think of me, or what should I think of myself to do such a mean, miserable act?" " I know you couldn't do anything mean, Cloudy ! But, oh ! Indeed, indeed I do wish you would go quietly back, as I say ; for, see here, Cloudy I I don't mind uncle's storming at me one bit! Indeed, indeed don't I ! I enjoy it! that I do! just as I should ft magnificent thunder storm, such as scares everybody else to death! But I can 1 1 bear to see him rage at you! and to see you stand there with your lips compressed so bitterly, and your eyes flashing under their lids like a smothered fire ! No ! F can't bear that !" " And do you think, Lina, that my heart rises and burns so upon my own account no, Lina, no, but upon yours!" " And that is true, I know. For, whenever uncle blows you up, it is because of me. We get into all our troubles together, don't we, Cloudy? Or, at least, /draw you into all my trou- bles! Yes, indeed! I've just thought of it! I'm always get- ting you into scrapes ! But I won't do so any more ! indeed I won't, you dear, good Cloudy!" "Never mind, Lina! It has been man's doom ever since Eve got Adam into that precious scrape of robbing the apple tree!" said Cloudesley, laughing good-humoredly, as he put whip to the horse. They were just entering the precincts of Luckenough. It was after ten o'clock, and as they entered the lawn, the arrival of a cart at such an unprecedented hour, set all the dogs upon the premises to barking. And Cloudy had to use his lungs, and his whip, too, to conquer a peace, before they would recognize him. When they drove up to the door, they found ihe front of tha buse all shut up and darkened. 168 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, Cloudy alighted, helped Jacquelina down from her seat, ani then they both went up the steps to knock at the door, half expecting to be refused admittance. But just as Cloudy seized the knocker, the door was cautiously opened, and Mrs. Waugh drew him in, making a sign of silence. Then she beckoned Sans Souci, who entered, for the first time in her life, in a sort of awe. And lastly, she let her fellow watcher, old Oliver, out, to put the horse and cart away. Then she led the way into a back parlor, and struck a light, and turning to Jacquelina, said, "Oh! my dear child! what have you done! Your uncle will never forgive you ! He \& frightfully angry !" " You needn't tell me that, aunty ! I knew it all along !" " But, oh ! my dear, you don't know the extent of his rage this time ! Why, Lapwing, he drove every servant to bed be- fore he went himself, and he swore that no one of them should admit you to-night ! Think of it, my dear ! The Lord knows what he will do to-morrow !" " Aunty, just tell me! will he send and take Fair Edith's pretty things away again ?" " No, my dear, he wont do that, because that would make ' a town-talk all over the country,' as he calls it. But I do fear he will punish you very severely to-morrow !" " Never mind! All right! He daren't kill me, nor break my bones, and for anything short of that I've earned it, thanks be to goodness ! And so he don't take Fair Edith's things away again, I'm satisfied! Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la ! sang Sans Souci, making a whirl. " Hush ! you little wretch you ! is that the way you meet it? You had better waken your uncle up, that is all ! I was very much afraid the barking of the dogs would wake him, but it didn't!" Then Mrs. Waugh asked after Edith, and the baby, and Marian. And when she had received satisfactory answers, =ihe lighted a second caudle, and put it in the hands of Cloudesley, baying, THE MISSING BRIBE. 169 "There, young man, you know your room go to it, while 1 take this child to her mother. Good night." "Good night, Cloudy!" said Sans Souci, running, and holding up her face for a kiss. " Good night, Fire-fly," said Cloudesley, lifting her up and k'ssing her, and putting her down again. And Mrs. Waugh led her away. I shall pass over the domestic tornado that swept through Luckenough the next morning. We have seen sufficient of Commodore Waugh's edifying method of family discipline to understand exactly how it was. The result was this : that Sana Souci was sentenced to a month's imprisonment in her chamber which was first when Old Nick cooled down a little, i.om- muted to a week's, and next, when uncle began to be enuayee for the company of his little Jacko, to a day's confinement As for Cloudesley, who had come in for his full share of uouse, it was decided that he should be sent to sea immediately nor was there any commutation of this sentence ! For the affection growing up between the little girl often, and the youth of six- teen, was already beginning to give the Commodore uneasi- ness, as likely at some future time to interfere with his plans in favor of "Grim." "Who knows when the nonsense called love germinates. 1'n sure I can't remember when I no, when Henrietta took pos- session of me, soul, body, and estate!" Commodore Waugh, by reason of his great services in the Revolution, as well as his late rank in the Xavy, and his ex- tensive political connexion, had ample influence to procure for his ward a midshipman's warrant, and to get him appointed to a good ship. And the old sailor made a journey to Washington City for the purpose. And since he went upon a benevolent errand, it would be invidious to relate how much peace befell Luck- enou^ i during nis absence ! He came back at last, bearing the warrant that metamorphosed Cloudy into a naval officer. Cloudesley was then dispatched t Baltimore to procure 1 im 170 MIEIAM, THE AVENGER; OB, self an outct. And after an absence of two weeks, he re- turned to Luckenough, to wait orders. He soon received them to join the ship " Susquehanna" upon or before a stated day. The intervening time was spent by Cloudesley at Luckenough, where Mrs. Waugh, Mjcs. L'Oiseau, the maid Maria, and even Jacquelina, all devoted themselves to his service, until his linen was made up, and his wardrobe in perfect order for a three years' voyage. As for Sans Souci, to the surprise of every- body, she seemed perfectly delighted with the idea of Cloudesley's going to sea as a midshipman. She entered into the spirit of the thing with all her heart and soul ! And after having assisted to get his wardrobe in order, she helped to pack his sea- chest. Cloudy, on his part, promising to bring her any num- ber of parrots, monkeys, and other animal and vegetable and mineral curiosities from foreign parts. "Poor Lapwing! she never parted with any one she loved, for any length of time, in all her life, and she doesn't know what it is when it comes 1" said good Henrietta, noticing the child's high spirits. Jacquelina excessively admired Cloudesley's new uniform, and nothing would do but he must put on the full, parade dress, that she might admire him in it. So, to gratify her, and to please himself, too, maybe, as well as 'to "astonish the natives" of Luckenough generally, perhaps, Cloudy donned his hand- somest uniform. Sans Souci was delighted, enraptured, en- thusiastic. "Cloudy?" " Well, Lina ? "I want you to save that suit of uniform for me !" "Now, Linal" " Yes, I do ! I want you, when you've worn it out, or out- grown it, to put it away and save it for me I want to keep it, because it is the first uniform you ever wore ! Now, will you do it ? Will you promise me ? Will you bring it back to mo when you come? If you will, I will keep it, and show it to you when you are aie old gray-haired post-captaiii 1" THE MISSING BRIDE. 171 " Yes, Lina, I will save this uniform, and bring it back to you when I come," said Cloudesley, and he inwardly resolved to wear it but a few times, and then supply its place with a new suit, and put it away to keep untarnished for Jacquelina. Sans Souci was half delirious with delight and admiration, seized both his hands, and holding them, danced up and down before him her eyes dancing more than her feet. Suddenly her manner changed her bright face was overshadowed " You are 'most a man now, Mr. Cloudy," she said. " Well ! what of that, Lina ?" " Pm only a little girl." "And what of that?" "You'll go and fall in love with a grown lady." I shall do no such thing, Lina. What put such a notion in your head ?" " Doctor Solomon said so !" <; Solomon's a fool!" "Yes, I know! but fools speak truth, they say." " Not in this instance, Lina." " No ? And you wont fall in love with a grown lady ?" "No, surely not." "Not if they're ever so pretty, and ever so rich, and want you to, ever so much ?" "No, no, no, and a thousand times no, Lina !" "And you wont ever marry anybody but me will you, Cloudy ?" " No, Lina, I pledge my word I will never marry anybody but yon." " God bless your dear, sweet, darling heart of you, I do say ! I knew you wouldn't," she exclaimed with delight. " Oh, Cloudy 1 I do love you so much ! I do love you better than the whole world put together." When the day at last came for Cloudesley's departure, it was arranged that his baggage should be sent on before in a cart, und that the Commodore should take him in the carriage to B whence he was to sail to Baltimore. Jacquelina went 172 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, through the parting like a Trojan ! Indeed, she did not feel 01 reali/e it at all. Cloudy was full of spirits, and so was she On taking leave, she threw herself for the last time around Cloudy's neck, exclaiming, as usual, " Oh ! Cloudy ! I do love you best of all in the whol< world I' 1 And he returning the parting caress, answered, as a ivays, " And so do I you, Lina 1 But you wont say you love ma vhen I come back!" "Wont I, then ! If I don't, you may call me a I g story- teller!" And so, without sentimentality or tears, the boy u .d girl separated. Cloudesley entered the carriage with the Commo- dore, and was driven off towards Benedict. And Jucqnelina re-entered the lonesome house very lonesome it seemed indeed with Cloudy and the pleasant bustle all gone, and the excite- ment of his going all over, and the reaction at hand ! How empty Cloudy's room looked ! He would not be in that room again for three years at least ! Three years ! what an intermina- ble time ! Say never at once ! It had not struck the child in that manner before, but now it did with all its force ! And now she felt stunned, amazed, with only the power left to won- der why she had not realized what this parting truly was before ! There was nothing left of Cloudy's in the room, except an old pair of boots but " Jacko" thought they looked so like Cloudy at least they so reminded her of Cloudy, that she fell upon them in a vehement fit of grief, the first she had felt upon his account. What made i.t worse for poor Lina, was the fact her mother and her aunty had also gone to Benedict to make some purchases, and to see Cloudy off. And the house was left to herself, and Maria, her maid. So Jacquelina mourned, with no one to comfort her. About the middle of the forenoon, however, there happened to arrive two visitors from C , namely, Miss Nancy Skamp and her accomplished nephew, Mr. Solomon Weismann, the medical student. They had come in total ignorance of the ab- sence of the family for that <^ay. However, that made no THE MISSING BRIDE. 173 difference at Luckenough. Maria informed the guests that he* mistress would be home in the afternoon, and would be very glad to find them ; also, that Miss Jacquelina was very much dowii about Master Cloudesley's going away, and that it would be kindness for them to stay and cheer her up. And therefore Miss Nancy Skamp and her nephew neither of whom had the slightest idea of going back charitably consented to remain. They were shown into the parlor, into which Jacquelina pre- sently came to bid them welcome. Poor Sans Souci's eyes were red, and her face was swelled with crying. Miss Nancy Skamp saluted the child with a kiss, and after asking about the health of her mother, and her aunty, and the Commodore, &c., began to "cheer" the little hostess up with all the en- livening gossip she could think of how Peter Semmes was going to have his leg taken off, because mortification had set in ; and how Doctor Brightwell's little boy had lost his eyesight since he had the measles ; and how widow Lloyd's son had been taken up for petty larceny, and his mother had lost her reason, and tried to drown herself, &c., &c., &c. But none of these things appeared to raise Jacquelina's spirits in the least degree. And presently Solomon commenced. He had his own pet theory of curing grief, namely, upon the Homoeopathic prin- ciple. So he began " So, Cloudy is gone, Miss Jacquelina?" " Yes," said the child, trying to command herself, and to behave " like a lady." " Poor Cloudy ! how long is he going to be absent ?" " Three-ee years!" cried Sans Souci, beginning to falter and lose her self control. "Oh! poo-oor Cloud-dy!" said Solomon, in the most pa- thetic of tones. "Oh! Oh, dear! Oh, hoo-oo !" sobbed Sans Souci, still iryiug valiantly to suppress an outbreak of grief. *' Poor, dear Cloud-dy ! Away upon the stormy sea for- three whole years! Oh! mv 1 what a long time! it will hardly ever come to an end Poor Cloud-dy ! Not to see 174 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OK, Cloudy for three whole years ! What in the world will yon ao ? " Oh ! oh ! don't ! don't !" cried the tortured child, striving to suppress her sobs. " And for him to live on beef junk, and mouldy crackers, and stale water, for three whole years!" " Oh ! oh 1 don't ! I shall smother I I shall die ! Oh ! hecca 1 hecca !" gasped Jacquelina, struggling for breath. " And then to have to climb up to the mast-head in the dreadful storms, and be rocked about between the thundering and lightning clouds, and the boiling ocean waves, until maybe he is shaken off, and pitched into the depths of th-e sea, and drowned !" "Oh! hecca! hecca! hoo-oo !" gasped Sans Souci, really suffocating " And then if he makes the least objection to that sort of treatment, to be court-martialed for mutiny, and hanged a dog at the yard-arm !" said the merciless Solomon. "Oh! hecca! hecca hoo-oo cahoo !" gasped and strug- gled Jacquelina, as she fell back in spasms. " There, now ! what have you done to the child ?" said Misa Nancy Skamp, coming forward with her aromatic salts. " Go away, Aunt Nancy ! You're an old lady, and I'm a medical man ! two classes that never did agree, and never will. I know my business ! Let her alone, I tell you ; don't raise her head up! There, now! she's got off a whole month's grieving in that spasm 1 I tell you I don't believe in these old chronic troubles ; these enduring neart-aches. If anybody has a grief, let them bring it to a crisis at once : look at it on its very dark- est side, and nurse it up till it rises to a head, and breaks iu tears and sobs, and, if need be, spasms, and then it goes offl" " Yes ! and the patient goes off with it !" said Miss Nancy, indignantly. :< No, the patient doesn't go off with it I Not when the patient la young and strong, as this one ; and of course, in all cases, a skill- ful practitioner modifies his treatment according to the age an ai;l fi.rtiim- smilt-a- llut Kni-lnni- | rnv.-J nnomny. And now I'm Sorrow's child!" " Well, Sorrow is not an unkind mother, in the end, pool fanny be sure of that. And now come in and lie down or i lie sofa, and rest, while I make you a cup of coflee. Come! come into the house 1" J>nt the same expression of cunning came again into the poor creature's face, as she said "In the house? No, no no, no! Fanny has learned some- thing ! Fanny knows better than to go under roofs they are traps to catch rabbits ! 'Twas in the house the Destroyer found us, and we couldn't get out ! No, no ! a fair lield and no favor and Fanny will outfly the fleetest of them 1 But not in a house ! not in a house !'' "Well, then, I will bring an easy chair out here for you to rest in, you can sit under the shade, and have a little stand by your side, to cat your breakfast. Come ! come nearer to the house," said Marian, taking poor Fanny's hand, and leading her up the walk. They were at the threshold. " No ! no ! I can't go so near the house ! I can't indeed ! I am the Doomed, and Fate follows in my footsteeps!" said the poor creature, pulling back. " VViiat do you mean ? Come, be gentle and good, and no harm can touch you here. Come, if you will not enter the house, sit down here, on this porch step, until I make you more comfortable. ; "No! no! I must n->t! I should bring evil to the home I [ have brought evil ! I ought not to have entered your gate !" cried the maniac, wildly, wrenching her hand from Marian -; clasp, and turning to depart. "Bi.t, why?" said Marian, gently, going after her. " Whj 'i we 1o not fear evil here !" " Don't follow me! don't! I am a conductor of evil ! J should draw a thunderbolt of misfortune down upou your lu.ad Avoid me ' 182 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OE, " Not so ! I would invoke the thunderbolt upon my onro ncarl, sooner than I would desert a sister woman to the fury of misfortune's storm !" " You would ?" said the wanderer, turning and facing her, "The Lord knows I would! I hope any woman would." The poor creature slowly and sadly shook her head, answer ing at random " No ! no ! It was not my fault ! But if the plague had seized me if I had been a leper What was I going to say ? Oh !" And the maniac clasped her temples, and her features grew sharp, and her eyes intense, as if in pursuit of an idea, that she seemed now to have found, now to have lost. At last^ suddenly she raised Jier eyes, and gazed intently into Marian's face, and then she gave a start, and her features began to work strangely. "Are you Marian ?" she asked abruptly. " Yes, that is my name." " Oh, I oughtn't to have come here ! I oughtn't to have come nere !" " \Vhy ? What is the matter ? Come, be calm ! Nothing can hurt you or us here I" "Don't love! Marian, don't love! Be a nun, or drown yourself, but never love !" said the woman, seizing the young girl's hands, gazing on her beautiful face, and speaking with intense ani painful earnestness. " Why? Love is life. Y'ou had as well tell me not to live as not to love. Poor sister ! I have not known you an hour., yet your sorrows so touch me, that my heart goes out towards you, and I want to bring you iu to our home, and take care of you," said Marian, gently. " You do ?" asked the wanderer, incredulously. "Ileavon knows I do ! I wish to nurse you back to health amd culm ness." "Then I wculi not for the world bring so much evil to jou! Yet it is a lovelier place to die in, with loving faces around, But it i-j a better phvoe to live in ! I do not let people Ulf THE MISSING BRIDE. 183 where I am, unless the Lord has especially called them. I wish to make you well ! Come, drive away all these evil fancies and let Me take you into the cottage," said Marian, taking her hand. Yielding to the influence of the young girl, poor Fanny Buffered herseL to be led a few steps towards the cottage ; then, with a piercing shriek, she suddenly snatched her hand away, crying " I should draw the lightning down upon your head 1 I am doomed I I must not enter !" And she turned and fled out of the gate. Marian gazed after her in the deepest compassion, the tears filling her kind blue eyes. " Weep not for me, beautiful and loving Marian, but for your- self yourself!" Marian hesitated. It were vain to follow and try to draw the wanderer into the house ; yet she could not bear the thought of leaving her. In the meantime the sound of the shriek had brought Edith out. She came, leading little Miriam by the hand. Edith was scarcely changed in these five years a life without excitement or privation or toil a life of moderation and regu- larity of easy household duties, and quiet family affections, had restored and preserved her maiden beaut)'. And now her pretty hair had its own will, and fell in slight, flossy black ringlets down each side the pearly brow and cheeks ; and no- thing could have been more in keeping with the style of her beauty than the simple, close-fitting black gown, her habitual dress. But lovely as the young mother was, you would scarcely have looked at her a second time while she held that child by her hand so marvelous was the fascination of that little crea turt's countenance. It was a face to attract, to charm, to de- iJght, to draw you in, and rivet your whole attention, until yoc became absorbed and lost in the study of its mysterious spell witching c ace, whose nameless charm it were impossible to toll 184 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, I might describe the fine dark Jewish features, the glorious eyes, the brilliant complexion, and the fall of long, glossy, black ringlets that veiled the proud little head ; but the spell lay not in them, any more than in the perfect symmtery of her form, or the harmonious grace of her motion, or the melodious intona- tions of tor voice. She wore a black dress like her mother's Edith would have it so. And the color was in perfect harmony with the character of the little girl's countenance. For it might be hereditary tern perament, or peculiar individuality, or her mother's deep dis- tress just preceding and following her birth ; either or all of these, but something gave to the child's splendid Syrian beauty a prevailing expression of impassioned melancholy. And there, pt-rhaps, lay the mystery of its spell. Edith, still leading the little girl, advanced to Marian's side, where the latter stood at the yard gate. ' I heard a scream, Marian, dear, what was it ?" Marian pointed to the old elm tree outside the cottage fence, under the shade of which stood the poor stroller, pressing her Bide, and panting for breath. " Edith, do you see that young woman ? She it was." " Good Heaven !" exclaimed Edith, turning a shade paler, and beginning, with trembling fingers, to unfasten the gate. " Why, do you know her, Edith ?" " Yes ! yes ! My soul, it is Fanny Laurie ! I thought she was in some asylum at the north!" said Edith, passing the gale, and going up to the wanderer. "Fanny! Fanny! Decrest Fanny !" she said, taking her thin hand, and looking in her crazed eyes, and lastly putting both arms around her neck and kissing her. " Do you kiss me ?" asked the poor creature, in amazement. " Yes, dear Fanny ! Don't you know me ?" " Yes, yes, you arc I know you you are let's see, now n "Edith Lance, you know your old playmate!" "Ah! yes, I know you had another name." " Edito Shields, since I was married, but I am widowed now, Fanny ' THE MISSING BRIDE. 185 "Yes, I know Fanny has heard them talk!" She swept her hands across her brow several times, as if It clear her mental vision, and gazing upon Edith, said, "Ah! old playmate! Did the palms lie? The ravaged home, the blood-stained hearth, and the burning roof for me the filed nuptials, the murdered bridegroom, and the fatherless child for you. Did the palms lie, Edith ? You were ever in- credulous! Answer, did the palms lie?" " The prediction was partly fulfilled, as it was very likely to be at the time our neighborhood was overrun by a ruthless foe. It happened so, poor Fanny ! You did not know the future, any more than I did no one on earth knows the mysteries of the future, ' not the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only.'" This seemed to annoy the poor creature soothsaying, by palmistry, had been her weakness in her brighter days, and now the strange propensity clung to her through the dark night of her sorrows, and received strength from her insanity- " Come in, dear Fanny," said Edith, " come in and stay with as." "No, no!" she almost shrieked again. "I should bring a curse upon your house ! Oh ! I could tell you if you would hear ! I could warn you, if you would be warned ! But you will not ! you will not!" she continued, wringing her hands in great trouble. "You shall predict my fate and Miriam's," said Marian, smiling, as she opened the gate, and came out leading the child. "And I know," she continued, holding out her palm, "that it will be such a fair fate, as to brighten up your spirits for sym pathy with it. w> " No ! I will not look at your hand !" cried Fanny, turning away. Then, suddenly changing her mood, she. snatched Marian's palm, and gazed upon it long and intently; gradually her featuies became disturbed dark shadows seemed to sweep, as a funereal train, across her face her bosom heaved gat dropped the maiden's hand. 186 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, " Why, Fanny, you have told me nothing ! What do you gee in my future ?" asked Marian. The maniac looked up, and breaking, as she sometimes did, intD improvisation, chanted, in the most mournful of tones, these words : " Darkly, deadly, lowers the shadow, Quickly, thickly, comes the crowd From death's bosom creeps the adder, Trailing slime upon the shroud 1" Marian grew pale, so much, at the moment, was she infected with the words and manner of this sybil ; but then, "Nonsense!" she thought, and, with a smile, roused herself to shake off the chill that was creeping upon her. "Feel! the air! the air!" said Fanny, lifting her hand. " Yes, it is going to rain," said Edith. " Come in, dear Fanny." But Fanny did not hear the fitful, uncertain creature had seized the hand of the child Miriam, and was gazing alternately upon the lines in the palm and upon her fervid, eloquent face. " What is this ? Oh ! what is this ?" she said, sweeping the black tresses back from her bending brow, and fastening her eyes upon Miriam's palm. " What can it mean ? A deen cross from the Mount of Venus crosses the line of life, and forks into the line of death ! a great sun in the plait of Mars, a cloud in the vale of Mercury ! and where the lines of life and death meet, a sanguine spot and a great star! I cannot read it! In a boy's hand, that would betoken a hero's career, and a glorious death in a victorious field ; but in a girl's ! What can it mean when found in a girl's ? Stop !" And she peered into the hand for a few moments in deep silence, and then her face lighted up, her eyes burned intensely, and once more she broke forth in im- provisation "Thou shalt be bless'd as maiden fair was never bloss'd before And the heart of thy bulov'd shall be most gentle, kind and pure But thy red hand shall be lifted at duty's stern behest, And gire to fell destruction the head thou lov'st the best Feel ! the air ! the air 1" she exclaimed, suddenly dropping tht shild's hand, and lifting her own towards the sky. THE MISSING BSIDE. 187 "Yes, I told yon it was going to rain, but there trill not be much, only a light shower from the cloud just over our heads." " It is going to weep! Nature mourns for her darling child ! Hark ! I hear the step of him that cometh 1 Fly, fair one 1 fly i Stay not here to listen to the voice of the charmer, charm Le never so wisely!" cried the wild creature, as she dashed off towards the forest. Marian and Edith looked after her, in the utmost compassion. " Who is the poor, dear creature, Edith, and what has reduced her to this state ?" " She was an old playmate of my own, Marian. I never men- tioned her to you I never could bear to do so. She was one of the victims of the war. She was the child of Colonel Fairlie and the bride of Henry Laurie, one of the most accomplished and promising young men in the state. In one night their house was attacked, and Fanny saw her father and her husband mas- Bac r ed, and her home burned before her face ! She fell into the hands of the soldiers 1 She went mad from that night." " Most horrible !" ejaculated Marian. " She was sent to one of the best northern asylums, and the property she inherited was placed in the hands of a trustee old Mr. Hughes, who died last week, you know ; and now that he is dead and she is out, I don't know what will be done, I don't understand it at all." " Has she no friends, no relatives? She must not be allowed to wander in this way," said the kind girl, with the tears swim- ming in her eyes. "/shall always be her friend, Marian. She has no others that I know of now; and no relative, except her young cousin, riiurston Willcoxcn, who has been abroad at a German Univer- sity these five years past, and who, in event of Fanny's death, would inherit her property. We must get her here, if possible. I will go in and send Jenny after her. She will probably over- take her in the forest, and may be able to persuade her to come back. At least, I shall tell Jenny to keep her in sight, until she is in some place of safety." 188 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER] OR, "Do, dear Edith!" "Arc you not coming?" said Edith, as she led her little girl towards the house. "In one moment, dear; I wish only to bind up this morning- glory, that poor Fanny chanced to pull down as she ran through.' 1 Edith disappeared in the cottage. Marian stood with both her rosy arms raised, in the act cf binding up the vine, that with its wealth of splendid azure- hued, vase-shaped flowers, over-canopied her beautiful head like a triumphal arch. She stood there, as I said, like the radiant, blooming goddess of life and health, summer sunlight and blush- ing flowers. The light tramp of horse feet fell upon her ear. She looked up, and with surprise lighting her dark-blue eyes, beheld a gen- tleman mounted on a fine black Arabian courser, that curvetted gracefully and capriciously before the cottage gate. Smilingly the gentleman soothed and subdued the coquettish mood of his willful steed, and then dismounted, and bowing with matchless grace and much deference, addressed Marian. The maiden was thinking that she had never seen a gentleman with a presence and a manner so graceful, courteous and princely in her life. He was a tall, finely proportioned, handsome man, with a superb head, an aquiline profile, and fair hair and fair complexion. The great charm, however, was in the broad, sunny forehead, in the smile of ineffable sweetness, in the low and singularly mellifluous voice, and the manner, gentle and graceful as any woman's. " Pardon me, my name is Willcoxen, young lady, and I have the honor of addressing ?" "Miss Mayfield," said Marian. " Thank you," said the gentleman, with one involuntary gaze of enthusiastic admiration that called all the roses out in full bloom upon the maiden's cheeks; then governing himself, ho bent his eyes to the ground, and said, with great deference " You will pardon the liberty I have taken in calling here, Miss Mayfield, when I tell you that I am in search of an un THE MISSING BRIDE. 189 nappy young relative, who, I am informed, passed here not long since." She left us not ten minutes ago, sir, much against our wishes. My sister has just sent a servant to the forest in search of her, to bring her back, if possible. Will you enter, and wait till she returns?" With a beaming smile and graceful bend, and in the same sweet tones, he thanked her, and declined the invitation. Then he remounted his horse, and bowing deeply, rode off in the direction Fanny had taken. And Marian remained at the gate lost looking after his retreating form. Once he turned his head, and seeing her still standing there, he bowed lowly, to the very pommel of his sad- dle, and then disappeared in the forest. And the roses upon the face of Marian were in their brightest bloom when she re-entered the cottage. The neat breakfast-table was standing in the middle of the floor, covered with its snow-white cloth, and adorned with its pure white service the coffee-pot and the plate of rolls and the dish of stewed oysters were still sit- ting upon the hearth. And as Marian helped Edith to arrange these upon the table, the latter inquired, " Who was that speaking to you at the gate, Marian ?" " Who but Mr. Willcoxen." " What! not Thurston Willcoxen I" " The very same !" " You astonish me! He returned!" " So it appears !" " Why, when did he get back ?" " I am sure I do not know ! He never volunteered to tell me, and 1 certainly was not at liberty to inquire." ' Well, I am amazed! What was the object of his visi{ here ?* " He jame in search of Fanny. He introduced himself by name, ai.d inquired after her, and as seon as he received the necessary directior.s, he set out in pursuit of her, and that ii all," said Marian as she sat down to the table, and began to 190 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, arrange the cnps to ponr ont the coffee, for of this little labof also the kind girl habitually relieved Edith. After a little silence, Edith said, " Thurston was a very handsome youth when he left the country how does he look now, Marian ?" " A^ r ell," said the young girl, hesitating and smiling, " I do not know how princes ought to look, or how they do look no better, really, I suppose, than humbler men yet I have but one word to convey my impression of this gentleman's appear- ance and address both were princely. I have seen no one like him in this neighborhood no one with so fine an expres- sion, or so fascinating a manner a manner, what shall I say so full of suave and stately courtesy of proud deference in a word, Edith, I had the simplicity to gaze after tUe gentleman's retreating figure, thinking I had never seen any one ride so admirably, until he actually turned and bowed, at which I came in the house, a little flushed at having betrayed so much rusticity." While they were yet talking, Jenny returned from her errand alone. " Did you see Mrs. Laurie?" asked Edith. " Who de debbel she, honey ? Oh ! you 'fers to poor, dear, misfort'nate Miss Fanny! Yes, honey, I seen she," said Jenny, sitting down, and taking off her sun-bonnet, and making herself comfortable. " Yes, honey, I fell in 'long o' her, 'jes on de edge o' de wood. Dar she was had hev herse'f right down on de jewey grass, unnerneaf o' de trees ; an' I went to her, an' tried to 'suade her to git up, but I couldn' make no 'pression on her, to save my life! she didn' seem to hear me, nor likewise to see me ! I jes' might as well stan' an' 'laver to a dead corpse laid out. An' I was jes' batin' 'long o' myse'f whedder I shouldn' pick her right up an' heave her right 'cross my shoulders an' tote her 'long home when sudden a patter- a-pat-pat! comes somet'n' into de woods, and up rid Marse Rooster Willfoxden ! an' I much 'spectin' to see de debbil as he 1 Well, he rid up, he did ! like any hey-my-lord 1 An' ho THE MISSING BRIDE. 191 flings hisse'f offen his horse, he does, and he goes soP like up to Miss Fanny, an' he draps down on one knee, and takes her ban' in hisscn, an' speaks 'spec'ful an' soP like 1 Oh 1 you dunno how sof ! no mudder to her sick baby no soffer an' sweeter au' calls her ' Fanny, my deares' cousin 1' 'Deed he 1 his deares j cousin, an' he 'suades her till she lets him liP her up, an' sit her on de horse, an' he takes de bridle in his hau an' leads de horse, and 'tends to her, and she goes 'long wid him quiet as any lamb ! Dar, now ! what anybody t'ink o' dat 1 arter me spendin' my breaf talkin' an' talkin', an' argifyin' an' argifyin', an' not be able to do a singly t'ing long o' her?" This was certainly a day of arrivals at Old Fields. Usually weeks would pass without any one passing to or from the cot- tage, except Marian, whose cheerful, kindly, social disposition, was the sole connecting link between the cottage and the neighborhood around it. But this day seemed to be an execution. While yet the little party lingered at the breakfast- table, Edith looked up, and saw the tall, thin figure of a woman in a nankeen riding-shirt, and a nankeen corded sun-bonnet, in the act of dismounting from her great, raw-boned, white horse. " If there isn't Miss Nancy Skamp!" exclaimed Edith, in no very hospitable tone " and I wonder how she can leave the post-office." "Ohl this is not mail day!" replied Marian, laughing, " notwithstanding which, we shall have news enough." And Marian who, for her part, was really glad to see the old lady, arose to meet and welcome her. Miss Nancy was little changed; the same tall, thin, narrow- ;hested, stooping figure the same long, fair, freckled, sharp set face the same prim cap, and clean, scant, fadey gown, or one of the same sort made up her personal individuality. Misa Nancy now had charge of the village post-office ; and her early and accurate information respecting all neighborhood affairs, was obtained, it was whispered, by an official breach of trust ; if BO, however, no creature except Miss Nancy, her black boy. Z92 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, and her white cat, knew it. She was a great news carrier, it if true, yet she was not especially addicted to scandal. To her, news was news, whether good or bad, and so she took almost as much pleasure in exciting the wonder of her listeners by recounting the good action or good fortune of her neighbors as the reverse. And so after having dropped her riding-skirt, and given that and her bonnet to Marian to carry up stairs, and seated her- self in the chair that Edith offered her at the table, she said, sipping her coffee, and glancing between the white curtains and the green vines of the open window out upon the bay, " You have the sweetest place, and the finest sea view here, my dear Mrs. Shields ! but that is not what I was a-going to say. I was going to tell you that I hadn't hearn from you so long, that I thought 'I must take an airly ride this morning, and spend the day with you. And I thought you'd like to hear about your old partner at the dancing-school, young Mr. Thurs- ton Willcoxen, a-coming back la, yes I. to be sure 1 we had almost all of us forgotten him, leastwise / had. And then, Miss Marian," she said, as our blooming girl returned to her place at the table, I just thought I would bring over that mus- lin for the collars and caps, you were so good as to say you'd make for me." "Yes, I am glad you brought them, Miss Nancy," said Marian, in her cheerful tone, as she helped herself to another roll. "I hope you are not busy now, my dear." " Oh ! I'm always busy, thank Heaven ! but that makes no difference, Miss Nancy ; I shall find time to finish your work this week and next." " I am sure it is very good of you, Miss Marian, to sew for me for nothing ; when " "Oh, pray, don't speak of it, Miss Nancy." " Bat indeed, my dear, I must say I never saw anybody like you ! if anybody's too old to sew, and too poor to put it out, it is ' Miss Marian' who will do it for kindness j and if any- THE MISSIXG BRIDE. 193 body is sick, it is ' Miss Marian' who is sent for to rrarse them; and if any poor negro, or ignorant white person, has friends off at a distance, they want to hear from, it is ' Miss Marian' who writes all their letters !" " But, Miss Nancy, what of it ? It is a real happiness to me ! and I think it is right to find as well as to make all the happiness we can in this world." " But, my dear, I don't know how you have the time, I don't indeed. Your day must be forty-eight hours long, and your week fourteen days !" Marian laughed. " We can always find time for a sacred duty, Miss Nancy, and I do think to nurse the sick, and sew for the old and blind, and to write for those who cannot write for themselves, are sa- cred duties." "Indeed I often try to remember what the neighborhood did before you came into it, and I wonder what we should all do if you were to be taken away 1" Marian laughed again. "I am not likely to be taken away, Miss Nancy, I expect to grow gray at Old Field Cottage, and if I were to die, or depart, no doubt Heaven would provide you with a sub- stitute." " 1 don't know where one would be got then, I'm sure I For I know everybody thinks there's not your equal to be found. And as for me, Miss Marian, I should really think you were a saint if you didn't laugh so much." At this Marian laughed more laughed till the tears came into her eyes. "Do eat your breakfast, Miss Nancy, and let me eat mine for, if you will compliment me so much, I shall nave to cumpli ment back again, and then my (offee will get coid." Jenny, who stood at the fire, stewing fresh oysters, and li'-'en- ing to the talk, now looked askant over her shoulder, and grumbled, inaudibly, " Why. in de iuimy's name, don't de ole creeter let her wit 12 194 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, tels slop her month, for ebery precious word as comes out'n it is 'm/. Keepin' de table stanin' in de middle o' de floor till nigh 'pon nine o'clock, an' me wid my work to do !" When they arose from breakfast, and the room was tidied np, and Edith, and Marian, and their guest, were seated at their work, with all the cottage windows open to admit the fresh and fragrant air, and the rural landscape on one side, and the sea view on the other, and while little Miriam sat at their feet dress- ing a nun doll, and old Jenny betook herself to the garden to gather vegetables for the day, Miss Nancy opened her budget, and gave them all the news of the month. But in that which concerned Thurston "Willcoxen alone was Edith interested, and of him she learned the following facts : Of the five years which Mr. Willcoxen had been absent in the eastern hemisphere, three had been spent at the German University, where he graduated with the highest honors ; eighteen months had been passed in travel through Europe, Asia, and Africa ; and the last year had been spent in the best circles in the city of Paris. He had been back to his native place about three weeks. Since the death of Fanny Laurie's old guardian, the judge of the orphans' court had appointed him sole trustee of her property, and guardian of her person. As soon as he had received this power, he had gone to the asylum, where the poor creature was confined, and hearing her pronounced incurable, though harmless, he had set her at liberty, brought her home to his own house, and had hired a skillful, attentive nurse to wait upon her. " And you never saw such kindness and compassion, Miss Marian, except in yourself. I do declare to you, that his man- ner to that poor unfortunate, is as delicate and reverential and devoted as if she were the most accomplished and enviable lady in the land, and more so, Miss Marian, more so !" " I can well believe it ! He looks like that !" said the bean- tiful girl, her face flushing and her eyes filling with generona sympathy. But Marian was rather averse to sentimentality, so dashing the sparkling drops from her blushing cheeks, she looked up and said, "Miss Nancy, we are going to have THE MISSING BRIDE. 195 chickens for dinner. How do you like them cooked ? It don't matter a bit to Edith and me." " Stewed then, if you please, Miss Marian ! or stop no 1 think baked in a piel" CHAPTER XV. THE FOREST FAIRY. " Leaping spirits light a air I Dancing heart untouched by care! Sparkling eye and laughing brow! And mirthful cheek of joyous glow!" OK the afternoon of the same day spent by Miss Xancy Skamp at Old Field Cottage, the family at Luckenough were assembled in that broad, central passage, their favorite resort iu warm weather. Five years had made very little alteration here, excepting in the case of Jacquclina, who had grown up to be the most en- chanting sprite that ever bewitched the hearts, or turned the heads of men. She was petite, slight, agile, graceful ; clustering curls of shining gold encircled a round, white forehead, laugh- ing in light; springs under springs of fun and frolic sparkled up from the bright, blue eyes, whose flashing light flew bird- like everywhere, but rested nowhere. She seemed even less human and irresponsible than when a child verily a being of the air, a fairy, without human thonghtfulness, or sympathy, or affections I She only seemed so under all that fay-like levity there was a heart. Poor heart I little food or cultivation !rii : it had in all its life. For who had been Jaequelina's educators ? First, there was the Commodore, with his alternations of blustering wrath and foolish fondness, giving way to his anger, 196 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, or indulging his love, without the slightest regard to the effect produced upon his young ward too often abusing her fof something really admirable in her nature and full as frequently praising her for something proportionately reprehensible in her conduct. Next, there was the dark, and solemn, and fanatical Dr. fjrimshaw, her destined bridegroom, who really and truly loved the child to fatuity, and conscientiously did the very best ho could for her mental and moral welfare, according to his light. Alas ! " when the light that is in one is darkness, how great is that darkness !" Jacquelina rewarded his serious efforts with laughter, and flattered him with the pet names of Hobgoblin, Ghoul, Gnome, Ogre, &c. Yet she did not dislike her solemn suitor she never had taken the matter so seriously as that! And he on his part bore the eccentricities of the elf with match- less patience, for he loved her, as I said, to fatuity doted ou her with a passion that increased with ripening years, and of late consimied him like a fever. And then there was her mother, last named because, what- ever she should have been, she really was the least important of Jacquelina's teachers. Fear was the key-note of Mrs. L'Oiseau's character the key-stone in the arch of her religious faith she feared everything the opinion of the world, the un- faithfulness of friends, changes in the weather, reverses of for- tune, pain, sickness, sorrow, want, labor! All the evils of life were exaggerated and made imminent by that one principle in her character, and worse than all, poor creature, her soul was tilled, not with the love of the Father, but with the fear of the Angiy God! the Dens Iri of her tremendous dread ! Eler vorldly wisdom was of the same character, governed by tlu- ^ime motives, fear and self-interest. "Whatever you do, my .lour, you must please your uncle and Doctor Grimshaw never ;jni!i| your aunty she hasn't much in her own right to leave to anybody, 'and she is wasting it all on Edith. But your uncle, my dear; you must please your uncle, and win Dr. Grimshaw, too, fur he never will leave you Luckenough, unless you are ic THE MISSING BRIDE. 197 be Dr. Grimshaw's wife, and if he don't, what should we do\ Be homeless beggars for the rest of our lives !" Now the time had not yet come for this proposed marriage to shock the merry maiden. She did not realize what was in- tended the words were meaningless to her, worn out with con- stant use ; she had heard them ever since she could remember, and she paid no attention to them; so to speak, "t\ey went in at one ear and out at the other." She was " ower young to marry yet." So thought not the Commodore ; for a year past, since his niece had attained the age of fourteen, he had been worrying himself and the elders of the family to have the marriage so- lemnized, "before the little devil shall have time to get some other notion into her erratic head," he said. All we>'e opposed to him, holding over his head the only rod he dreaded, the opinion of the world. " What would people say if you were to marry your niece of fourteen to a man of thirty-four ?" they urged. "But, I tell you, young men are beginning to pay attention to her now, and I can't take her to church that some jackanapes don't come capering around her, and the minx will get some whim in her head like Edith did, I know she will ! Just see how Edith disappointed me ! ungrateful huzzy ! after my bring- ing her up and educating her, for her to do so ! While, if she had married Grim' when I wanted her to do it, by this time I'd have had my grandchil ! I mean nieces and nephews climb- ing about my knees. But by I I wont be frustrated this time !" And so Jacquelina was kept more secluded than ever. Se- cluded from society, but not from nature. The forest became her haunt. And a chance traveler passing through it, and meeting her fay-like form, might well suppose he was deceived with the vision of a wood-nymph, The effervescent spirits of the elf had to expend themselves in the same way. As a child she had ever been as remarkable for surprising feats of agility as for fun, frolic, mischief, and 198 MIEIAM, THE A V E N G E E ; O E, diablerie. And every one of these traits augmented with h* erowth. Feats of agility became a passion with her her airy spirit seemed only to find its full freedom in rapid motion in daring flights, in difficult achievements, and in hair-breadth 'scapes. Everything that she read of in that way, which could possibly be imitated, was attempted. She had her bows and arrows, and by original fitness, as well as by constant practice, she became an excellent markswoman she had her well-trained horse, and her vaulting bars, and made nothing of flying over a high fence or a wide ditch. But her last whim was the most eccentric of all. She had her lance. And her favorite pastime was to have a small ring suspended from a cross beam, and while ridiug at full speed, with her light lance balanced in her hand, to catch this ring and bear it off upon the point of that lance. In feats of agility alone she excelled, not in those of strength that airy, fragile form was well fitted for swiftness and sureness of motion, yet not for muscular force. Her uncle and Grim' indulged her in all these frolics her uncle in gnat delight Grim', under the protest, that they were unworthy of an immortal being with eternity to prepare for. In these five past years, Cloudesley had been home once namely, at the end of the stated three years. He had been re- ceived with unbounded joy by his child-friend ; had brought her the out-grown suit of uniform ; had spent several months at Luckenough, and renewed his old delightful intimacy with its little heiress presumptive, and at length had gone to sea again or another three years' voyage. And it must be confessed that Jacquelina had found the second pai'ting more grievous than the first. And this time Cloudesley had fully shared her sor- row. He had been absent a year, when, upon this evening, we 5nc the family assembled in the spacious passage. I said that with the exception of Jacquelina, little change had passed "over the members of the household. Mary L'Oiseau was almost precisely the same. Mi's Wangh had increased in flesh to such a degree as made it rather heavy work for her to go up and down stairs, a task only to be accomplished with much panting and blowing. THE MISSING BRIDE. 199 The Commodore was very much the same in aspect as when first presented to the reader. But he was suffering from the gout, that frequently confined him to his room. And this afflic- tion, so far from disciplining his character or improving his temper, made him twice the tyrant that he was before. And Henrietta, really affected by his sufferings, not only never her- self crossed his humor, but never permitted any one else to do BO. She compelled them to submit with " Remember your master's suffering leg, you thoughtless wretches you!" to the house servants. And to Jacquelina, "Oh! my love! just re- member your poor uncle's poor, dear leg, and put up with his little ways !" His little ways ! I will tell you what they were ! one of his little ways was when confined to his room to pound upon the floor, with his crutch, until three or four ser- vants all started to run to him at once notwithstanding the imminent danger of having the said crutch hurled at their heads as soon as they should appear at his door, or laid vigorously over their backs as soon as they should get within arm's length of him, for it was impossible to know exactly who was wanted, and if the right one did not come " woe betide him" when he did. Never had that leg, in the days that in company with its fellow limb, it had stamped up and down the hall, kicking the men and boys, and propelling the dogs and cats through the door, and making the old beams and sleepers tremble with sym- pathetic fear been so much the dread of delinquents as now that it was swathed in bandages, and laid up on pillows. That leg was a sort of marshal's baton held up in terrorem over the whole family a sceptre of iron, before which all must bend. Until finally Jacquelina got very tired of the bother, rebelled, and vowed that she, for one, was not going to be walked over by her uncle's leg any longer ! there 1 On this especial evening, the old sailor was so much better as to be able to come down into the hall and lie upon the settee, that before-mentioned green, wooden settee that stood against the wall in a line with the foot of the stairs. Henrietta upon one end of it, and here he lay at full length, with hw 200 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, nead on the good women's lap. Thy were discussing tlie on exciting topic of the neighborhood, the return of Thurston Willcoxen. "Jf he had been guided by me," said the Commodore, "he never would have gone into foreign parts frst. I think Ame- rica, the United States and territories of North America, quite extensive enough for any young man's ambition !" " Was it extensive enough for yours, uncle, when you went away for twenty years ?" " Hush, Magpie ! You never open your lips that some sauce don't come out of them !" " Sauce-pi quante, uncle ?" " No, Minx ! that goes in fast enough in company with rock- fish !" " Now, I leave it to any one who knows me if 7 am a gour- mand! At least I have not gout enough to get the gout !" "Where is my crutch? or the boot jack? Is there nothing to throw at her ?" " Can't you throw a repartee, uncle ?" " Silence, huzzy ! Will nobody take that girl off my back ?" " Yes, dear uncle, any of the young gentlemen about Bene- dict will gladly do so !" " Set fire to the young men about B !" "Well, then, Thurston Willcoxen will !" " Devil fly away with Thurston Willcoxen ! He and all the rest of them put together are not worth Grim's little finger!" " Ah ! but, uncle, Grim' is so emphatically grim /" " He is a grave, self-governed man, as every instructor of jouth should be, and I wish you to love and respect him." "But I hate schoolmasters!" "But he is not a schoolmaster, Hornet! he is & professor." "Worse and worse! professors are the superlative degree of si.-hoolmasters, and I perfectly loathe, abhor, and abominate professors!" " Yes, but Wasp *ongue ! he is a very fine fellow, besides being m$ friend /" THE MISSING BRIDE. "Now, that is a most reasonable reason for liking him!" "Yes, but if I make you marry him " " Make me marry HIM ! !" " Yes, I say if I do, I'll give you Luckenough into the bar- jrain !" " Would you? Ha! ha! ha! Why, uncle! that would be heaping wrong upon wrong! Why, uncle! I don't like Luck- enough any better than I do the professor ! I would no mure live in it than I would live with him! And I wouldn't take the haunted old place in fee-simple, much less with the incuni- brance of that Ghoul !" " Ghoul ! Have you eyes in your head ? Do you recognise a handsome man when you see one?" "Is Grim' handsome, uncle? I really did not know it! However, people's tastes vary in the matter of beauty now mi, taste differs totally from yours. I never could think your pet Ogre handsome. Thurston Willcoxen is my ideal of manly beauty !" " There it is again ! Girls are the most infernal calamity a man can be cursed with ! Now I suppose you'll go making yourself a fool about him I" "Make myself a, fool? No indeed, uncle! One is enough of that class in any family I" " What do you mean by that, Pepperpod ?" "Nothing, sir," said Jacquelina, with much meekness. " Well 1 whatever you mean, Minx, I warn yon not to fall in love with Thurston Willcoxen because he is handsome ! For Grim, is just as handsome as he is, and handsomer, too, besides being my friend." " I didn't know that we were to choose people by their good looks, and I am very sure, my dear aunty, here, never chose }te* husband for his beauty." " Well, if she didn't, Saucebox, she chose him for his bravery, which is a better quality, I reckon I" "Bravery? Now, uncle, you know I thinK the existence of that attribute in some people wants p-oof ! I for one, always 202 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, considered it traditionary and fabulous as far as you were con- cerned, or at least only existing and active while drums were heating and flags flying, and bullets whizzing, and blows falling in all directions, and the demon to pay generally ! and the only alternative left was to fight or fall 1 / never saw much of the fire-eater about you, dear uncle ! Besides, how came that bul- let under your shoulder blade ? You must have got that \\hen you were running away !" " I didn't, you vixen ! I got it on board the Bon Ilommo Richard in the thickest of the fight ! My pistols were spent 1 My sword was broken 1 And I had closed with the foeman, hand to hand ! foot to foot ! breast to breast ! in a death-grip ! We were each trying to cast the other off the deck and over- board 1 And we should probably have gone overboard toge- ther and been drowned locked in each other's arms, like a pair of ardent and suicidal lovers, had not that chance bullet struck me, and made this wound, for which Old Hen will get a pension some of these days when it kills me !" " A penance, uncle 1 Say a penance ! I like Aunt Jenny's name for it best 1" " Bother ! I don't want to bandy nonsense with you I want to talk sensibly. And now listen ! I do not wish my niece to let her thoughts wander after any of these hair-brained fops, so entirely beneath her notice ! For I intend that she shall be the wife of a man of character and responsibility of years, and weight and substance I" " Lord ! what a pity it is you can't marry me yourself, uncle ! Vou are the heaviest and oldest man in the neighborhood ! Say, wouldn't you like to marry me yourself, uncle ?" " I'd like to brain you !" ejaculated the old soldier, feeling about and finding nothing but his tobacco-box, he sent it fly- ing at her, Jacquelina dodged, and ran away laughing. " Come back here, Minx 1 I want to talk to you !" he said. " Disarm him, aunty ! take away his pipe, and his spectacles, and his snuff-box, and his pocket-book, (I don't think he will throw hi wot * 7 * at me !) and everything he can make a missile of!" THE MISSING BRIDE. 203 " Come back here, you little imp ! Don't you see I've got nothing?" Jacquelina came back, still laughing, and took her seat at her uncle's feet. " I want to talk to you, yon little aggravation ! Have you no ambition ? Shouldn't you like to be the wife of a great man ? Now, Grim' is already beginning to distinguish him self. He will be a great man yet !" " Yes ! if he grows stout with years ! He ' stands high ' in the community now !" " You look as if you were making fun and I believe you are! I tell you, Professor Grimshaw is destined to make his mark in the world !" " Of course, if he leaves his tracks in the mud." " Henrietta ! I'll be shot if I stand this P " No ! certainly not ! don't try, uncle I it might hurt your poor leg!" "Oh! Oh, Lord! What a visitation! What a judgment! Whatever shall I do with this this this . Don't you know, yon minx, that Doctor Grimshaw will most f robably be the next President of College ? And have you no sense of the dignity that would attach to you as the wife of so dis- tinguished a man ?" Jacquelina put her finger upon her chin, and cast her eyes down in demure reflection then she soberly arose, walked up to the hat-rack, and standing before the little glass inserted there, deliberately contemplated herself for several minutes. Then as soberly she walked back and resumed her seat, saying, " It wont do, uncle ! I don't look like it ! no, not one bit I" " Don't be too humble, Miss L'Oiseau ! For whether you really deserve it or not, you will have that ' greatness thrust' apon you !" " Then, indeed, I shall cast it off again." "Indeed, you shall not!" " Try me ! Dare to try me !" UD to this time t"ie bantering conflict had been carried on 204 MIKIAM, THE AVENGERj OK, good-humoredly, notwithstanding the sauciness of Jacquelina'a retorts, but now there was danger of the antagonists getting out of temper, and the sham quarrel becoming a real one, whet Mrs. Waiigh interfered by changing the subject. They lingered long in the hall that evening, longer than usual. Was it with any prophetic feeling that this would bo the very last evening they would ever sit in that old passage way again ? That very night the old mansion, that had withstood the storms of more than two hundred winters, was burned to the ground ! The fire broke out in the kitchen. Upon that fatal evening it had been left to Stupid to cover up the brands on the kitchen hearth. No one could surmise how he contrived to draw on the calamity. It is true that Maria, who was waiting on her master at his bedside, had mockingly told " Stupe" to be sure and leave a coal sticking to the broom when he swept the ashes up. But could Stupe have been such a fool as to take her at her word ? Maria was not certain, and upon the whole, she thought it best not to investigate the matter too closely. For indeed, Stupe had become most lamentably stupid since his master's accession of illness and ill-temper had kept him in a state of perpetual panic, in fact since the reign of the leg had commenced. Be that as it may, upon the evening of the fire, Jacquelina had gone to her room she had an apartment to herself now and feeling for the first time in her life, some little uneasiness about her uncle's " whim" of wedding her to Grim', she had walked about the floor for sometime in much restlessness of mind and body ; then she went to a wardrobe, and took out Cloudy's treasured first uniform, and held it up before her. Flow small it looked now ; why it was scarcely too large for herself! And hov much Cloudy had outgrown it! It had Qttcd him nicely at sixteen, now he was twenty-one, and in two years more he would be home again! Smiling to herself, and tossing her charming head, as at some invisible foe, she said, " Yes, indeed I should so like to see them do !t t" THE MISSING BRIDE. 205 She pressed the cloth up to her face, and put it txr&y, and, till smiiiug to herself, retired to rest, to dream of her dear playmate. She dreamed of being in his ship on the oper sea, the scene idealized to supernal beauty and sublimity, as ail such scenes are in dreams ; and then she thought the ship took fire, and saw, and heard, and felt the great panic and horror that ensued. She woke in a terrible fright. A part of her dream was true 1 Her chamber was filled with smoke, and the house was chaotic with noise and confusion, and resounded with cries of "Fire I Fire !" everywhere. What happened next passed with the swiftness of lightning. She jumped out of bed, seized a wool- len shawl, and wrapped it around her head, and even in that imminent danger not forgetting her most cherished treasure, Cloudy's suit of uniform, snatched it from the wardrobe and fled out of the room. Hef swift and dipping motion that had gained her the name of "Lapwing," now served her well shooting her bright head forward and downward, she fled through all the passages, and down all the stairs, and out by the great .hall, that was all in flames, until she reached the lawn, whei-p the panic-stricken and nearly idiotic household were as- sembled, weeping, moaning and wringing their hands, while they gazed upon the work of destruction before them in im- potent despair 1 Jacqnelina looked all around upon the group, each figure of which glared redly in tie light of the flames. All were present all but the Commodore ! Where could the Commodore be ? Jaequelina ran through the crowd looking for him in all di- rections. He was nowhere visible, though the whole area was lighted up, even to the edge of the forest, every tree and branch aiui twig and leaf of which was distinctly rwealed in the strong red "'lure. "Where is uncle? Oh! where is uncle?" she exclaimed, running wildly about, and finally going up to Mrs. Waugh, who, in her uightclothes, stood looking the statue of con steniauun ! 206 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, Jncquclina shook her fat arm. "Aunty! aunty! Where is uncle? Are you bewitched f Where is uncle ?" " Where ? Here, somewhere. I saw him run out before me." "No, you didn't! you mistook somebody else for him. Oh. my Lord ! he is in the burning house ! he is in the house !" "Oh, he is in the house 1 he is in the house!" echoed Hen- rietta, now roused from her panic, and wringing her hands iu the most acute distress. " Oh ! will nobody save him ! will nobody save him !" It was too late ! Commodore Waugh was in the burning mansion, in his bedchamber, near the top of the house, fast asleep 1 "Good heaven! will no one attempt to save him?" screamed Henrietta, running wildly from one to the other. They all gazed on each other, and then in consternation upon the burning building, every window of which was belching flame, while the sound of some falling rafter, or the explosion of some combustible substance was continually heard ! TP venture into that blazing house, with its sinking roof and falling rafters, seemed certain death. " Oh ! my God 1 my God ! will none even try to save him?' 1 cried Henrietta, wringing her hands in extreme anguish. Suddenly " Pray forme, aunty!" exclaimed Jacquelina, and she darted like a bird towards the house, into the passage ; and seemed lost in the smoke and flame 1 Wrapping the woollen shawl closely about her, and keeping near the floor, she glided swiftly up the stairs, flight after flight, and through the suffocating passages until she reached her uncle's door; it was open, and his room was clearer of smoke than any other, from the wind blowing through the open w indow. There he lay in a deep sleep ! She sprang to the bedside, seized and shook the arm of the sleeper. THE MISSING BRIDE. 207 " Uncle ! uncle ! wake, for God's sake, wake ! the house is on fire 1" "Hum-m-m-e!" muttered the old man, giving a great heave and plunge, and turning over into a heavier sleep than before. "Uncle! uncle! You will be burned to death, if you don\ wp,ke up !" cried Jacquelina, shaking him violently. " Humph ! Yes, Jacquelina ! urn um um Grim ! mn nin Luckenough! muttered the dreamer, flinging about his great arms. " Luckenough is in flames ! My God ! My God I Uncle 1 wake ! wake!'' she cried, shaking him frantically. "Ah! ha! yes ! d d little rascal is at her tricks again !" he said, laughing in his sleep. At that moment there was the sound of a falling rafter in the adjoining room. Every instant was worth a life, and there he lay in a sodden, hopeless sleep. Oh, surely the angels who saved the children in the fiery fur- nace will hold up the sinking roof! Suddenly Sans Souci ran to the ewer it was empty. There was no time to be lost ! every second was invaluable ! He must be instantly roused, and Jacquelina was not fastidious as to the means in doing so 1 Leaping upon the bolster behind his great, stupid head, she reached over, and seizing the mass of his gray, grizzly beard, she pulled up the wrong way, with all her might, until, roaring with pain, he started up in a fury, and seeing her, exclaimed, " Oh ! you abominable little vixen ! is that you ? Do you dare ! Are you frantic, then ? Oh, you outrageous little dare- devil ! Wont I send you to a mad-house, and have you put in a straight-jacket, till you know how to behave yourself! You infernal little wretch you !" A sudden thought struck Sans Souci, to move him by his affection for herself. "Undo, look around you! The house is burning! if you do not rouse yourself and save your poor little 'wretch,' she mujt perish in the flames!" 208 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, This effectually brought him te his senses; he understood everything ! he leaped from the bed, seized a blanket, envel- oped her in it, raised her in his arms, and forgetting gout, lameness, leg and all, bore her down the creaking, heated stairs, flight after flight, and through the burning passages out of the house, in safety. Oh, surely the angels had held up that sinking roof, that, as soon as they had passed in safety, feil with an awful resonance, sending up new flames to Heaven, bearing, as it were, the story of the young girl's heroism. A shout of joy greeted the Commodore, as he appeared with Jacquelina in the yard. But heeding nothing but the burden he bore in his arms, the old sailor strode on until he reached a convenient spot, where he threw the blanket oif her face to give her air. She had fainted the terror and excitement had been too great the reaction was too powerful it had overwhelmed her, and she lay insensible across his arms, her fair head hanging back, her white garments streaming in the air, her golden locks floating, her witching eyes closed, and her blue lips apart, and rigid on her glistening teeth so she lay like dead Cordelia in the arms of old Lear. Henrietta and Mi-s. L'Oiseau, followed by all the household, crowded around them, with water, the only restorative at hand. At length she recovered and looked up, a little bewildered, but soon memory and understanding returned, and gazing at her uncle, she suddenly threw her arms around his neck, and burst into tears. She was then carried away into one of the best negro quar- ters, and laid upon a bed, and attended by her mother and her maid Maria. The Commodore, with his wife, found shelter in another quar- ter. And the few remaining members of the household wore accommodated in a similar manner elsewhere. They had scarcely got within doors wnen the storm, that had been muttering in the distance all the forepart of the uight. THE MISSING BRIDE. 209 txiw burst upon the earth. The rain came down in torrents, like another deluge, and continued with unabated violence until morning. The sun arose upon a strange, wild scene a scene of beauty and of desolation 1 There was the greensward and shrubbe- ries, and the surrounding belt of forest, all verdant and spangled with rain-drops, and sparkling in the fresh light of morning and there, in the midst, was the ruin, with its blackened walls and chimneys ! The fire had been effectually extinguished by the floods of rain, but not until it had completed the work of destruction. Nothing had been saved but the clothing in which the family stood. Something doubtless might have been secured from the flames had there been an organized action, or a leader, with presence of mind enough left to direct the crowd, who, panic- stricken by the suddenness, and the unprecedented nature of the catastrophe, had remained totally inactive. The loss, complete as it was in regard to Lnckenough, was not, however, very great ; the house and the furniture were old, and might be considered to owe no farther service to their pro- prietor. For years there had been a talk of pulling down and rebuilding and refurnishing. The long deferred and doubtful matter was now precipitated and rendered certain. That was all. After a rude breakfast, the best that could be prepared under the circumstances, a family council was called, and it was decided that they should go to B for the present, until some other course was fixed upon, especially as Jacquelina was very ill and needed immediate medical attendance. The stables had not been burned, and the carriage and n.orses were safe. Festus and Bill were directed to bring them around, while Maria, mounted on a mule, was despatched to the nearest neighbor to borrow clothing for the burnt-oat family. It was near noon before they were all ready to set forth from the scene of disaster, and it was the middle of the afternoon when they found tnemselves temporarily settled at the little hotel 13 210 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR at Benedict, in the very apartments formerly occupied by Edith and Marian. Here Jacquelina suffered a long and severe spell of illness, during which her bright hair was cut off. And here beautiful Marian came, with her gift of tendej nursing, and devoted herself day and night to the service of the young invalid. And all the leisure time she found while sitting by the sick bed she busily employed in making up clothing for the almost denuded family. And never had the dear girl's nimble fingers flown so fast or so willingly. Every day the Commodore, accompanied by Dr. Grimshaw, rode over to Luckenough to superintend the labors of the workmen in pulling down and clearing away the ruins of the old mansion, and preparing the site for a new building. Six weeks passed and brought the first of August, before Jacquelina was able to sit up, and then the physicians recom- mended change of air and the waters of Bentley Springs for the re-establishment of her health. During her illness, Jacquelina had become passionately at- tached to Marian, as all persons did who came under the daily in fluence of the beautiful girl. Dr. Grimshaw was to accompany the family to Bentley. Jacquelina insisted that Marian should be asked to make one of the party. Accordingly, the Commo- dore and Mrs. Waugh, nothing loth, invited and pressed the kind maiden to go with them. But for many reasons Marian declined the journey first, she could not or would not loave Edith, except upon missions of benevolence or necessity secondly, now that her services were no longer needed, she did not wish to accept the hospitality of the uncle from whom her sister was still estranged ; and, lastly, had neither of these great reasons existed, a smaller one equally cogent wouid have pro- vented her becoming one of the party, namely Marian had no proper wardrobe for the occasion. Two or three coarse, light- blue ginghams, and lilac calicoes, and one white dress, con- stituted Marian's summer outfit. The dear maiden was too disinterested, too nuch the servant of the public, to have accu- THE MISSING BRIDE. 211 mulated anything beyond the necessities of clothing for her self. Therefore, when her duties as nurse and seamstress wer* over Marian rejoined Edith. And Commodore Waugh, with his wife, hiss niece, and fail Grim', set out in the family carriage for Bentley Springs. CHAPTER XVI. THE MOCK-TOURNAMENT. The lovely stranger stands confessed A maid in all her charms." Goldsmith. IT was Jacquelina's first visit to a watering place, and it mignt be said to be her first entrance into society. Her health rapidly improved, and she gave herself up to pleasure with all the en- thusiasm of a novice. None so gay as she ! Her hair had not been cut so close but that it would curl and cluster in little golden rings around her laughing forehead giving new piquancy to the fairy face. She was the newest beauty there. Near the last of the season, there was a project started that enlisted all Jacquelina's interest this was a mock-tournarner.., to be followed by a masked ball. She entered into the spirit of the thing with all her heart and soul, as usual. Indeed, it was believed by those who had good opportunities of judging, that the fairy herself was the invisible inspirer and instigator of the wrole affair; that she dropped a hint here, and a hint there. in the proper quarters, where her suggestions would fall like iparks of fire on combustible material, until the whole company at the Springs were a-blaze with excitement upon the subject of the mock-tournament. And all the young men, and many of the elder ones, passed several hours daily in practicing j and already there was such a 212 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, difference in skill displayed, that confident predictions were made as to which should carry off the ring the greatest number of times, and which should be the second, and the third, in success, etc. Jacquelina listened to all this with the greatest gravity, only there was such an unfathomable depth of mischief lurking hi her demure eyes ! The ladies were equally busy with the subject of the characters to be assumed, and the dresses to be worn at the fancy ball. An agent was procured and dispatched to the city, with writ- ten directions to select materials for the fancy dresses, mock armor, etc. Everybody knew, of course, that it was going to be a burlesque, and expected and prepared for nothing else. I must pass over the bustle of the preparations that occupied two weeks, and the accession of company from the neighboring towns and villages and the country round about, that poured into Bentley to see the wonder of the mock-tournament the actors in which knew perfectly well that they were making fools of themselves, but they did so with purpose, "prepense and aforethought," and no less zealously upon that account. The great day of the tournament came at last. I suppose it is necessary to give some idea of the scene in which the splendid spectacle of the tenth century was revived and travestied in the nineteenth. The hour was fixed for noon. The site was well selected. Imagine an open plain, ending at the south with a high, steep cliff, crowned with a forest, which at noon cast a long, dense shadow. Under the shade of this cliff were erected the seats of the spectators, wooden benches, raised one above the other, backwards. Here, at an early hour, were assembled and seated the greater number of the visitors of the Springs that is to say, all the ladies and children, and such of the gentleman us did not take active part in the burlesque. Opposite these seats, at the extreme north of the plain, under a canopy, the King-at-A rms, with heralds and pursuivants, in costume, held his court. THE MISSING BRIDE. 213 At the east end was the gate through which the "knights" entered here were also stationed heralds and pursuivants in fancy dresses. Opposite, at the west extremity, was the gate through which they (the knights) issued, and here were stationed the "minstrels," that is to say, a modern band of music silent now, Dut to strike up a triumphant peal at the pass of every victorious knight. Now, il you fancy that this mock-tournament is to be an en- counter of gallant knights with shield and lance, I am sorry to disappoint you. We cannot even so much as travestie those things now. Few men now would like, even in sport, to meet an opponent in such thunder-shocks ! No ! It was an encoan- ter only of lance and ring a feat of agility an exhibition of sleight-of-hand, quickness and sureness of eye, and skillful and elegant horsemanship no more. And now take notice a well rolled gravel-road was made to traverse the plain from the east gate, at which the knights were to enter to the west gate, from which they were finally to issue. Midway across this road stood what looked precisely like a gibbet, with a noose hanging down. Don't be shocked how ever ! For it was a much more merry matter. That was a rope certainly that hung down midway from the cross-beam and at the end of that rope was a small steel hook, with its point towards the west. Upon that hook hung an iron ring of four inches in diameter. Now the feat to be accomplished was this for the rider, while in full gallop, to bear off the ring on tho point of his lance. Among the spectators were of course our rustic family from Luckenough-r the Commodore, Mrs. Waugh, Mrs. L'Oiseau, and Dr. Grimshaw all except Jacquelina! and ail taking the greatest interest iu the scene about to be performed. Poor Jacquelina i Unlucky Sans Souci! It really seemed a very great pity, after all the zeal she had displayed in the get- ting up of this frolic that on the very morning of its enactment* she should be seized with oh 1 such a maddening nervous head- 214 MIEIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, ache ! A. headache that " ached" so dreadfully, she could not bear a ray of light or the sound of a footfall a headache that nothing but utter darkness and silence and profound rest cou'd mitigate. She vowed that she was sure, if she heard any cne within ten feet of her room-door, she should fall into fits. And BO she had every window-shutter closed, and sent Grim', and the Commodore, and her mother, and her aunty, and the maid Maria, all in turn, out of her room protesting that if she was not left alone, she should go into convulsions ! But if only permitted to go quietly to sleep, she should be better in the afternoon. And eo, at her urgent desire, she was left alone in the dark room, with a lump of ice at her head, and mustard-plasters on the solea of her feet. Everybody pitied Miss L'Oiseau, but soon forgot her in the excitement of the coming scene. " Poor Lapwing ! how unfortunate that she should be sick this day of all days," said Mrs. "VVaugh, "but she seemed right well content, too, and doubtless she will be much better this afternoon, and be able to assist at the fancy ball," added the lady, comforting herself that she might the better enjoy the scene about to commence. A herald in a blue tunic blew his trumpet ,at the northern extremity of the area, proclaiming the lists open, and the tour- nament about to commence. At the east gate, another herald, in a yellow tunic, repeated the proclamation. And at the west, another in red reiterated it. These officials were termed by the uninitiated crowd, "the red boy," "the yellow boy," and " the blue boy 1" A goodly number of competitors, in fancy drosses and mock armor, were congregated at the eastern gate. The " blue boy," in a sonorous voice, proclaimed their names and titles. The characters assumed for the occasion were alas for modesty and veneration ! the very greatest heroes of the middle ages ; among them, " Richard Coeur-de-Lion," the " Black Prince," " Harry, of England," (Henry Y.) " Hotspur," " Sii William Wallace," etc. There were also some of a mere comic character, (it was all comic enough,) there were Dor. Quixote THE MISSING BRIDE. 215 and Sancho Panza, Sir Hudibras, etc. But the name of the first competitor was about to be proclaimed, and a dead silent ensued. "The Knight of Malta!" shouted the herald from the north % whose voice was, unluckily, very thick. " The Knight of the Altar! 1 ' repeated the east herald, whose ears were no better than the other's voice, and, " The Knight of the HALTER 1" vociferated the west herald, who was too far off to hear well. " Oh ! that is too funny 1 Poor Lapwing I How she would enjoy that !" said Mrs. Waugh. But just then the Knight of the " Halter" dashed forward on the road, with his lance balanced lightly in his right hand and without pausing or slackening his speed in the least, sped through the area, and bore off the ring ! The band of music struck up a triumphal air, and the spectators gave a shout of congratulation. The successful aspirant turned and rode around the area, and fell into his place. And the ring was restored to its station. And then the name of another candidate was proclaimed in turn by the three heralds, and he rode forward This was a splendid equestrian but alas, as he sped through the course, he only touched, and did not carry off the ring ; and the music kept a dead silence, while he rode back crest-fallen, with his lance trailing by the saddle-bow. Then came a third candidate, who also missed ; and then a fourth, who carried off the ring ; and a fifth and a sixth, who failed even to touch it ; and a seventh and eighth, who bore it off in triumph. And thus, with more or less success, all the candidates who had failed were ruled out from the list of com- petitors, while those who had succeeded remained for a second trial of skill. There were but nine competitors in the second course. And this passed off with the like success as the first that is to say, less than one-half the candidates succeeded. Five failed, and had their names stricken off the list Four remained to try the 216 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, third course. These were " The Black Prince," " Hotspur," " Don Quixote De La Mancha," and " The Knight rf Malta," alias of the " Halter." With the narrowing down of the number of competitors, the excitement of the actors, as well as of the spectators, arose. Oa the part of the rivals there was of course more fatigue, and les? steady coolness than before. Perhaps it was upon this account, that in riding the third course, three of the competitors failed, while only one, "The Knight of Malta," succeeded, thus re- maining, as he and every one else supposed, sole victor of the field! Not as they knew of, however ! " There's many a slip 'twix' the cup and the lip," and "oft expectation fails, and most oft there where most it promises." For while the victor knight, bearing aloft the ring upon the point of his lanee, was careering around the field, and the ladies were waving handkerchiefs and casting bouquets in his way, and while the triumphant music was pealing, and the crowd was shouting, and the trum pets blowing, and the heralds vociferating, and the "King-at- Arms" preparing to proclaim, through his marshals, that the renowned " Knight of Malta" was the victor of the day, and entitled to the honor of crowning the lady of his fealty Queen of Beauty and Love hark! the winding of a horn, whose piercing notes penetrated through all grosser sounds, and an- nounced the advent of a new challenger ! And lo ! at the west gate, a vision of dazzling splendor ! Sun and stars and diamonds, how radiant ! It was a young knight, a mere stripling, in what seemed silver plated scale armor, that glanced and flashed in the sunlight with blinding radiance his helmet was encircled by a diadem of what seemed precious stones diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, that sparkled, glowed, and blazed in rays of many colored fire, crested with a snow white plume his steed was white, with housings of white satin, wrought with a deep border of silver lilies, and finished with a deep fringe of silver threads. Light, graceful, serial, and dazzlingly radiant, was this resplendent vision ! All the THE MISSING BRIDE. 2] 7 crowd arose to look, and then turned their half blinded eyes away. A herald from the King-at-Arms demanded his name, lineage, and country. " PRINCE ARIEL, from the Court cf Fairy." His errand at the tournament ? To challenge the victor knight to a trial of a dozen rounds ! This was very trying indeed, just in the moment of victory. But by all the gallant and generous usages of chivalry, this challenge must not be refused besides, the Fairy Prince was such a mere sprite not likely to conquer in material contests. The assembly also, by acclamation, demanded that the challenge should be accepted. And it was accepted. Order was restored. Lots were drawn for the first trial, which fell on the fortunate Knight of Malta. Once more, with lance balanced in his right hand, the knight spurred on his charger towards the arch, and passed under it, carrying off the ring. And while he rode round the area, the crowd shouted, and the music pealed forth as before. It was now the turn of the Fairy Prince. He was stationed at the west gate. With a swift, smooth, wavy motion, he gal- loped on, his silver armor glancing in the sun rays, passed under the arch, and carried off the ring. And the music struck up, the crowd applauded, etc. The Knight of Malta's turn. He dashed on, with lance held as before, and passed under the arch, bearing off the ring, amid the usual peals and plaudits. And then again the Fairy Prince. He sped forward, like arrow to its aim, swept through the arch, and bore off the prize, amid the acclamations of the impartial multidude, and the thunders of the music. So far the success was equal, although the Fairy Prince far surpassed the Knight in elegance, and serial grace of carriage. And this equality of success continued for several more rounds. At length, however, the Prince seemed to wish to bring the cortest to a crisis. And when his turn came round, instead 218 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, of sweeping onward like a flash of lightning, as he had done before, he set forward in a gentle arable, until he got within a few feet of the arch, when he backed his horse for a flying leap, aimed his lance, and vaulted through, carrying off the ring upon the point, and falling again into the gentle amble, finished the course ; then turning on his road, he rode back, and in the act of vaulting through the arch, replaced the ring upon the hook, amid deafening thunders of applause. This was a feat that had not been attempted before. The Knight of Malta, thus tacitly challenged to rival this skill, de- clined the attempt, and in all knightly courtesy yielded the palm to Fairy Prince as Victor of the Day. The excitement of the crowd was unprecedented. Every man was up on his feet. Every lady was waving her handkerchief. The band of music went mad, and raved away in a perfect storm of triumph. The heralds nearly split their throats blow- ing the trumpets. And the King-at-Arms, and all his marshals, vociferated themselves hoarse, in trying to " conquer a peace." A i length, however, silence was restored. And then " Prince Ariel, of Fairyland," was pronounced victor of the day, and entitled to the honor of crowning his liege lady Queen of Beauty and Love. Bfit who was the radiant Prince Ariel, and who was the lady of his choice ? That was the question that excited to the utmost the interest of the breathless assembly. He had received the crown from the King-at-Arms, and was about to indicate his queen by the act of coronation ! What lady would she be ? He now rode around the area, bearing the crown in his hand, and approaching the seats of the spectators, paced along be- neath them, his snow-white charger prancing in its spangled white housings, his silver armor flashing in the sun, his diadem of precious stones burning like a circlet of fire around his hel- met, his snow-white plume dancing above his closed vizor. Oh, who was the dazzling Fairy Prince ? Reader, have you ever doubted his identity for a single moment ? THE MISSING BRIDE. 219 Bat lo ! he has paused before a group among the spectators. Expectation is on tip-toe ! All bend their eyes to that focus ! But how is this ? It is our rustic party from Luckenough, and there is no fair lady in the group ! What can the Fairy Prince mean ? All eyes are riveted to the spot. And the Commo- dore and his party don't know what to make of it at all. The Commodore's eyes are distended to their widest ability. And the rest of the party wait in breathless expectancy ! They have a faint impression that the victor is in search of Jacquelina. The Fairy Prince now bows before the group, until the snow- white crest sweeps the snow-white housings of the steed ; and, placing the crown upon the point of his lance, he raises it and Ays it at the feet of THE COMMODORE. A shout of laughter rends the air ! The veteran blushed olack with embarrassment, shame and anger, at what he con- siders an attempt to turn him into ridicule. But the multitude shout " Take up the offering, gallant Commodore ! Take it np ! See you not that the tribute was made to your beautiful niece, the lovely Miss L'Oiseau, whom we are sorry to miss from this tournament, but whom we shall be glad to hear pre sently proclaimed the queen of love and beauty !" " Unmask ! Unmask, gallant knight, and declare yourself, that we may know whom to name when we toast the victor 1" Tremendous is the sensation, deafening the shouts and cheers when the Fairy Prince raises his visor and reveals the golden hair, and laughing brow, and malicious blue eyes of our Sans Souci 1 "Oh good! that girl will be the death of me! She abso- lutely makes my heart beat in the back of my head, and my shoulders open and shut like a pair of clap-boards 1" groans the overwhelmed Commodore. 220 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, CHAPTER XYII. THE SPRITE IN THE CONVENT. " Now is it not a pity such a merry girl as I, Should be sent to a nunnery to pine away and die I" THE mock-tournament had broken up in disorder the co puny gathering into knots to discuss this last eccentricity of Miss L'Oiseau, or dispersing to laugh at it in their own apart ments. The Commodore, with a grip of Jacquelina's shoulder, sent her along before him and his party, until they reached their own private parlor. " And now you what shall I call you ? What shall I say to you ? Was ever a man so bedeviled as I am 1" ho exclaimed, standing her before him. " Have patience, uncle ! ' Patience, and smoke your pipe !' " " I'll be shot if I do ! Where did you get that masquerading dress, you little minx ?" " I ran you in debt for it, uncle ! It cost only three hundred dollars." " Three hun WHAT ?" "Yes, you see, it's not real precious metal and precious stones it's only the best o' tin and colored glass nothing's real in it but the white plumes ! And aunty can have them for her winter bonnet if she wants them. And that'll be a real saving !" said Sans Souci, very demurely, her wicked eyes sparkling with internal fun. The Commodore trotted up and down, making short, impa- tient turns in the narrow room, like a chafed old lion in Ins cage, and grunting. " Ugh ! ugh I ugh I She crushes me ! She presses me ! ] feel like a lemo" between the squeezers, with every drop of THE MISSING BRIDE. 221 olood starting from eyery pore of my skin. Ugh I ugh ! You little imp of Satan, you 1 Where in thunder did you think I was to get three hundred dollars to pay for your deviltries ?'' " Nowhere in thunder, sir." " I wont pay for it ! there, Minx I" " Just as you please, uncle 1 Only do remember that you gave the agent a carte blanche to get any faney dress I should order, and I fancied ordering this!" " It was a breach of trust ! It was an abominable breach of trust ! And three hundred dollars for so much flashy trash !" " Ha, ha, ha ! be comforted, uncle ! Since you are so stingy, let me tell you that your niece's fancy dress cost you next to nothing. The agent hired it for her from a pantomime com- pany I" The Commodore uttered a cry, and dropped down into a chair as if he had been shot. He was really shocked. " All the fiends alive ! Henrietta, do you hear that ! Mary, do you hear that ! She has actually dressed herself in the com- mon property dress of some theatre or other ! Ugh 1 ugh ! ugh ! She she's a visitation of wrath ! she she's a judgment on me for my sins ! Ugh 1 ugh 1 She's a cleaving madness, she is ! 'A pantomime property,' you 1 Get out of my sight this instant, you imp, before I'm tempted to murder you !" " Don't fret and fume, uncle it will bring on the gout !' ; " Begone I" " Don't fret, uncle ! I have only been joking with you I Why I would no more wear second hand costume, than than you would have me to do it. The agent had this suit made to order for me and it did not cost much either a mere trifle !" "Who can put any confidence in what you say, you elf?'* " Everybody can, uncle 1 You can when I assure you that I am telling the truth 1 And since you spoke of the price, let me tell you again that this cost only " " D 1 take the cost 1 I'm not thinking of the cost, but of your conduct ' 222 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, " Yes ! didn't I do it beautifully, uncle ? Aint you proud of me now ? Aint I an honor to you ?" "You're a catastrophe! Get out of my sight! Begone J And don't let me see you again for a week 1" Jacqueliua laughed, and started, her mock armor jingling like silver bells as she went. When the door closed after her a family council was held. Henrietta sat there, taking things as quietly as she usually took them. But Mary L'Oiseau was pale with surprise, dismay, and dread, until the Commodore, turning to her, said, " Well, madam ! What do you think I shall have to do with this precious girl of yours ?" " I'm sure I don't know," said the timorous creature, be- ginning to weep. " I always knew it would turn out just so !" "Just how?" " I always knew Jacquelina would give you offence, and then and then" " Well, aod then what ? Can't you speak, Mary ?" But Mary was weeping. " I ask you what you think had best be done with her." "Oh! I'm sure I don't know! I can't defend her! You must do exactly as you think fit! I shan't interfere!" "No matter what I decide to do with her ?" "No, indeed! for I'm perfectly weary and worn out with contending with her follies." "Well, then, I'll marry her to Grim' right off!" " Oh, no ! not that ! She is but fifteen ! she is too young ! Besides, she wouldn't consent now! She'd be sure to be mulish ! Wait for two or three years, until she is old enough, and Las sense enough to see the advantages of such a marriage then she'll consent." " Then she will be sure to do just as Edith did ! Especially as it Till be some time before Luckenough is built up, and we shall have to board in the village, where we shall see all sorts of people, and she'll have beaux, and who can prevent it ?" " But can't you send her to some convent-school for a yeai THE MISSING BRIDE. or two, until we are settled again at Luckeuough, or until she is old enough to be married ?" suggested Mrs. L'Oiseau, meekly and whimperingly. " To a convent-school I never thought of that before let me see now yes ! I think that will do the life is very se- cluded, and the discipline very strict. Yes ! that is very good. She shall go and stay a year, and then she shall come out and marry Grim'. That is excellent 1 Really, Mary, when you're put to it you have got more sense than anybody would thidk 1 I'll go and talk to Grim' about it!" And, leaving the two ladies alone, the Commodore went in quest of Doctor Grimshaw, whom, after a long search, he found walking up and down a secluded avenue of the lawn in much disturbance of mind. Perhaps of all her friends who had been present at the mock tournament, Doctor Grimshaw had been the most severely shocked and scandalized by the feats of his betrothed. Yet now that the Commodore addressed him, and, walking up and down with him, explained his plans in regard to Jacquelina, Grim' shook his head. He did not like to part with his favorite did not know what they should do without her at home, and did not believe it safe to send her to a nunnery. " Do you know the partridge never can be tamed, and dies if it is caged ? My fairy love is like the partridge. If she is put in the convent she will drive the sisters mad, or break her own heart. Don't send her away. Wait till we are married. I am sure I can reform her, and make her happy also." "Yes! but I tell you," said the Commodore, "that unless you consent to part with her for a time, you may never marry her! Where we are going to live it will be impossible to separate her from young people of her own age, even from Thurston Willcoxen, and what would you think now if I should tell you that already her fancy has been touched by that young man from merely seeing him at church ?" Doctor Grimshaw started and changed color jealousy had entered his heart for tin first time jealousy uf the elegant Thurston Willcoxen. 224 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, " He must not be permitted to form her acquaintance ! He must not be permitted to enter the house where she lives !" "I should like to know how that's to :oe prevented while we are boarding, unless I send her to school as I purposed." " Something else must be thought of. I cannot lose her so ciety. And I cannot consent that she shall suffer constraint. We must find some other plan." While Doctor Grimshaw was thus pleading the cause of his elfish love, a waiter approached and handed him a little tri- angular note. His sallow face flushed when he saw that it waa from Jacquelina. It contained the following flattering pro- position : That as her mother and her aunty had declined being present at the fancy ball of that evening, and had de- termined that she should not appear unless escorted by Doctor Grimshaw therefore she had decided upon taking a character which would afford him a fitting opportunity of attending her in costume she should appear as Beauty in the fairy tale of "Beauty and the Beast." Would he therefore please to come us the Beast ? She had selected this, she said, in consideration of his convenience, because it would require so little modifica- tion of his usual appearance and manner. If he did not like that, however would he be Yulcan to her Venus? She offered him the choice ; she only wished to please him, she was pure. Dr. Grimshaw was not unaccustomed to this style of com- pliment from the highly provoked and equally provoking fairy. And previous to this day he had received her witty jibes and taunts and sarcasms with a patience and philosophy which was not without some natural dignity, as if he had felt that a man of his years and 'earning, and highly respectable standing in church and state, must not suffer himself to be disturbed by the quaint petulance of an elf. But now his bosom was vulnerable, for his heart was sore with new-felt jealousy jealousy of the all-praised Thurston Willcoxen. And he felt her shafts keenly. At any time before this, he would have borne his suffering in silence ; now, stung by jealousy, he cried out bitterly THE MISSING BRIDE. 225 "Yes! Beast! YulcanI Ogre! Afrit! Gnome I Ghoul! Goblin! Nightmare! Vampire! Warlock! Giraffe! Griffin! Dragon ! Leprehaun ! Kelpie ! Old Man of the Sea ! Her vo- cabulary of abuse is inexhaustible, and these are the Jove namea ehe calls me by !" "In the name of all the demons, Grim', what the d 1 does ail you? What the furies are you driving at?" exclaimed the Commodore, with his great round eyes staring with all their might at his excited companion. At another time, Dr. Grimshaw would have concealed the tricks of his elfish love, and so shielded her from her uncle's wrath. But jealousy is as m$an and spiteful in some stages, as it is terrible and remorseless in others. It is said to be "as cruel as the grave ;" it is also loathsome as the worm that battens therein. He passed Jacquelina's little squib of a note to the Commodore, where it acted like a lighted match thrown into a barrel of gunpowder. The old soldier exploded into fury ; abusing the poor fairy without measure, calling her names that would never bear repetition here, and swearing horribly profane oaths that he would send her to the nunnery, where she should remain until she knew how to behave herself. And as to the fancy ball of that night, she should not appear at it at all, i*i any character or under any escort whatever. She should, on the contrary, keep her own chamber, where she would have leisure to repent of her \^ckedness, he reckoned. But for the Commodore to reckon without Jacquelina in anything that materially concerned herself, was not safe. It is true he put his threat in execution and locked the poor elf up in her room, and took away the key, lest some one should release her. But Jacquelina laughed at his cunning, and with the point of her scissors, inserted between the lock and the catch, easily turned back the bolt and set herself at liberty. And that evening, in the midst of the fancy ball, when every- body had seen everybody else, and curiosity was satisfied, and the excitement apparently over, a great sensation was created by the sudden rising of a new star, who was announced as the 14 226 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, Elfin Princess Maligna who never unmasked, but in the course of the evening contrived to set more people by the ears to- gether, and excite more lover's quarrels, and cause more sur- prises, and panics, and starts and tremors, than had probably ever afflicted any one night, since " the morning and the even- ing were the first day." And at cock-crow she vanished. No one could have sworn to the identity, but it would have been impossible for Jacquelina to have proved an alibi during thats. Even the quiet girls who had hitherto found ex- THE MISSING BRIDE. 231 ritement enough in tending flowers and dressing dolls, or tell- ing stories, now arose and contended with the others for tho possession of the swings and skipping-ropes. In a word, the whole pleasure grounds were in a state of irrepressible effer- vescence, when the supper-bell rang and three or four Sisters came out to marshal the girls to the refectory. When supper was over, the crowd separated into their class-rooms, for the evening studies, after which they prepared to go to their various dormitories. CHAPTER XVIII. APPARITION IN THE DORMITORY. " Art thou a MAN." Macbeth. JACQOELINA was assigned a place among the elder girls, whom she accompanied to their sleeping apartment, which was situated on the second' floor. Nothing in the convent that I have already described, excelled this place in beauty and purity of aspect ; it seemed the very temple of Vesta the innermost sanctuary of youth, beauty, and innocence It was a long room, with snowy walls and ceiling and floor flanked by two rows of windows, with snowy linen blinds fur- nished with two rows of white beds, and their heads to the frail between the windows, and each closed in with curtains of Irhite dimity. Now, standing at the entrance of this pure sanctuary, look ap the clear vista between the lines of snowy beds to the oppo- site ext-emity of the room, and see a beautiful arched shrine, 232 MIKIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, relied with the most delicate lace, which festoons each side, re- veal, within, a life-like image of the Yirgin, in white robes, with her meek hands crossed upon her sinless bosom, and her meek eyes bent as in thought. Some young girl's devotion has place 1 upon her brow a wreath of fresh, fragrant, white roses. To a poetic eye she seems to stand there the guardian of tlie slumbers of pure and beautiful young girlhood. In the corners, to the extreme right and left of the Yirgin's shrine, stood the bedsteads occupied by the two nuns who had charge of this dormitory, and the young girls who slept in it. These beds differed in no respect from those of the pupils, ex- cept they were a little larger. Of the two duenna-nuns, Sister Agnes was a middle-aged lady, of severe and stately presence and stern rule. Sister Rose was a woman of twenty-five, with a fresh, girlish countenance, and a pleasant smile and voice. When Jacquelina was fipet introduced into this sweet, pure, peaceful retreat, she felt a sudden sharp pang a sense of some- thing unquiet, inhuman, elfish in her nature, at variance with the beautiful character of the scene some discord at war with this harmony some chaos incompatible with this order some evil, in short, that she wished was not there. Quietly each girl went within her own curtains to undress and go to bed. A few only gathered around the smiling Sister Rose for a good-night kiss. Some of the most warm-hearted and demonstrative, threw their arms around the beloved Sister and embraced her cordially. But the stern Sister Agnes frowned upon such freedoms, which she declared appertained to " inordinate and sinful affections of the flesh." This drew upon her the lightning flash of Jacquelina's eyes, and, alas! put to flight all the fairy's redeeming thoughts, and inspired her with a project of mischief which she resolved to put in execution, for the benefit of sour Sister Agnes, that very night. It was an unpardonable piece of diablerie, for which I rtan offer no palliation, except that the poor elf was on tho higa THE MISSING BRIDE. 233 road to destruction, with not one wise friend to intervene and sa\ e her. And when you are inclined to severely blame poor Sans Souci, remember her educators. At last, all the young creatures were in bed, with their cur- tains drawn around them all except Jacquelina. "Why don't you retire, my love?" inquired Sister Rose. "Because I haven't got my night-clothes," said Jacquelina. " Haven't got your night-clothes why how is that, my deal, where are they ?" "Packed up in my trunk, wherever that may be." 'Oh! yes, to be sure. I beg your pardon, my dear. It was my business to have attended to this but I really forgot it. I often do forget things. Come with me, my dear, into the ware- room ; your trunk is there," said Sister Rose, taking up a taper, and leading the way. They passed down a long passage, at the other end of which was the door leading into the wardrobe wareroom, where the clothing of the girls in this dormitory was kept, and where Jacquelina's trunk remained as yet unpacked. They entered, and while Sister Rose stood with her eyes bent upon the ground, pattering an Ave, Jacquelina knelt and un- locked her trunk, took from it a night-dress and another suit, (of which more anon,) and wrapping them together in a tight bundle, locked her trunk again, and arose to her feet. " It seems to me you have a large bundle there, my dear," said the Sister. " Yes, i have other garments besides the night-dress," said Jacquelina. " Ah, yes ! I suppose, after traveling you need a change. 1 hat is all right, under the circumstances. But hereafter, my lear, remember that the pupils change only on Sundays and Wednesdays, and or. those mornings you will find clean clothes laid out upon your bed," said the Sister, and taking her taper, she paced soberly along, leading the way back to the dormitory, and followed by Jacquelina. When they entered it, Sister Rose walked up and Bat 234 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, her wax taper before the shrine of the Virgin, where it waa intended to burn all night. Then she pointed out to Jaeque- lina the bed she was to occupy, drew her up, and kissed her cheek, saying, "Good-night, love. I hope you will be happy with us. I hope you will sleep well. You mustn't be home-sick. All of as are separated from our parents and friends here, but we are very happy as you will be after a few days. Good-night, and pleasant dreams to you, dear !" And the kind Sister kissed her once again, and let go her hand. And Jacquelina felt a twinge of compunction as she took herself and her mysterious bundle within her own curtains. She undressed and laid herself down, to wait until she should be reasonably sure that everybody in the room was asleep, be- fore commencing operations. Occasionally she peeped out between her curtains how sweet and calm and pure was the aspect of the room, with its score of slumbering beauties, and the sleepless eyes of the Yirgin watching over them ! Oh, elfin Jacquelina, how could you bring wild confusion and dismay into such a sweet and peaceful scene ? She lay back upon her pillow, anxiously listening, until they should all be locked in the arms of slumber. Occasionally was heard the soft rustling of some young crea- ture in her bed, like the fluttering of some young bird in its nest. But soon all these sounds ceased. The fair sleepers were all in the land of fairy dreams. But it seemed to Jacquelina that the sour Sister never would go to sleep that she found no more favor in the eyes Mor- pheus, than of any other man. She sighed, and turned to the right, and then grunted and turned to the left; and she "Ah, rne"-ed and "Oh, dear"-ed until the elf thought surely she must be suffering under that which is said to be the only real misery great pain of body or remorse of mind. But it was neither of these things it was only the sleeplessness wised by that good friend or bitter enemy, "green tea!" THE MISSING BRIDE. 235 that real and onlj "green-eyed monster" extant. At length, however, Sister Agnes was also sound asleep, as was proved by her deep and regular breathing. And Jacquelina peeped out between her curtains, and seeing everything still, and the Yirgin herself looking sweetly placid, as if she did not deem much harm in her wild child's frolic, she drew in her little mischief-brewing head, and commenced operations. Sitting up there in bed, she took off her night-cap and parted her hair in boyish style on one side, letting the short, bright, yellow curls cluster around her broad, fair forehead. Then she laid aside her night- wrapper, and dressed herself in that other suit aforesaid, which was no other than Cloudy's parade uni- form! And lastly, she set the gold-laced and tasseled cap jauntily upon her shining curls. And then she emerged from her hiding-place, and stooa up, as charming looking a little officer as could be seen on a sunny- day's review 1 All alive with mischief, she stood in the midst of the vista between the rows of snowy-curtained beds, and be- fore the white-veiled shrine of the Yirgin, thinking whom she should first startle out of their sleep, and out of their wits, by a kiss ! She soon made up her mind, and with her eyes twinkling roguishly, she tripped softly up the vist'a to the right-hand corner bed, occupied by Sister Rose, and stood over the pretty slurn- berer. How serene and sweet she seemed, with her fair cheeks slightly flushed by sleep, and one soft, white hand pressing the crucifix lovingly, unconsciously to her softer, whiter bosom. Jacquelina's heart warmed towards her she really wished now, not for "fun," but for love, to stoop and kiss her as she lay 1 But in that dress ! Even elfish Jacko hesitated to do it, hesita- ted to shock that pure and gentle bosom 1 So she stood for a minute smiling on her. But the temptation to make mischief was too great, and bending over her, she kissed her softly as a butterfly lights upon a flower, Sans Souci's lips touched sleep lug Rose's 236 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, Rosa awoke, and opened her sweet eyes calmly enough, but seeing, as she supposed, a young officer standing gazing upon her, v$Le gave one wild, wild shriek, and covered up her head, where she lay trembling, like a captured bird. That shriek had roused all the sleepers. Jacquelina dipped suddenly down, and darting along close to the floor, reached the inside of her curtains, when she quickly and quietly drew her wrapper over the uniform, hid the gold laced cap under her pillow, and replaced it by her night-cap, slipped into bed, drew the counterpane closely under her chin, and shut her eyes, as in a deep sleep. In the meantime, all was confusion in the dormitory. Every girl was out of bed, trembling with undefined terror, and asking everybody what was the matter. Sister Agnes was up also, and scolding at the top of her voice. And poor Rose was cry- ing, and lamenting, and wringing her hands. Jacquelina now ventured to peep through her curtains there stood Sister Rose, with flushed cheeks, and wild, tearful eyes, twisting her fingers, and weeping, and protesting, and there gathered the flock of girls in their night-dresses and bare feet, and there stood Sister Agnes laying down the law. " Was ever such a distraction I What can you think of your- self, Sister Rose, to rouse all the school out of their beds with such a shriek as that I How do you know but you've wakened the pupils in the other dormitories, too ? And the Mother Superior, for aught we know!" "Oh 1 indeed, indeed it wasn't my fault! Indeed it wasn't!" "It was your fault! If you had been thinking more of your aves and paters, and less of vanities, you would not have dreamed of seeing a one of those creatures !" "Oh! It was a man, it was a man! Indeed, indeed it waa a man ! It was a live man,' and no dream ! I never dream of those beings ! Holy Virgin ! no Heaven forbid !" " Yon have dreamed ! Why, you must be still dreaming ! Are you crazy ? Man indeed ! St. Mary ! I'm shocked at you I Ct is really indecent How could one of those affairs get in I THE MISSING BRIDE. 237 Where could he hide ? I believe you've lost your reason ! Yon must think a great deal about such persons! The truth is, you're too hearty ! I've noticed it a long time ! you eat too much, and that is the reason you have had dreams ! You shall keep a strict fast to-morrow, and after this you shall fast three times a week, until you have somewhat mortified the pride of your flesh. And if thai don't do, and if we are disturbed by any more of your dreams and outcries, I shall have you deposed from your place here in the dormitory, and sent back to your cell ! And I'll speak to Mother Ethelle about it to-morrow 1 A pretty example for these girls ! Now, young ladies, return, every one of you, to your beds, and let no more hysterical shrieks, from any one, bring you out of them 1 And, Sister Rose, do you return to yours, and be sure to repeat one hundred Ave Marias and Our Fathers before you venture to close your eyes !" said the angry Sister Agnes Some of the girls turned to seek once more their pillows. But Rose caught the robe of Sister Agnes, and said, " Oh, Sister ! pray, pray have the room searched ! There was a man in it!" " Have done with such sinful fancies !" exclaimed Sister Agnes, angrily. " Oh, Holy Virgin ! will nothing convince her ? And are we all to go to bed while there is such a monster in the room !" " You certainly are frantic ! You want blood-letting ! Will you look around now upon those well-secured windows, and that double-locked door, and tell me, even supposing such a creature could possibly get through the outer grate, how it could get in here, or being in, where it could hide, or how it could get out? You're a fool, Sister Rose! St. Mary for- give me !" But Sister Rose, persisted that she had spoken the truth, and pleaded so earnestly to have the room searched, that all the young girls, with one accord, flitted out of their beds like birda from their nests, and looked underneath them looked every- where went to Miss L'Oisean's bed and looked under that, thep peeped between her curtains to see how soundly she slept. 238 MIEIAMj THE AVENGEE; O E , " Tired to death with her long journey, poor thing," they said, softly closing her curtains again. "Yes, young ladies I" said Sister Agnes, severely, "Miss L'Oiseau is an example to you ! You don't see her starting up out of her bed at this unholy hour of the night, to assist in raising a confusion 1 And I hope that in future you will profit by her example ! And now, young ladies, that you have proved for yourselves that there is nothing in this dormitory, more sin- ful and dangerous than your own follies, I hope that you will go quietly to bed, and stay there. And as for you, Sister Hose, I shall remember to do to-morrow as I said I" And, frowning and angry, Sister Agnes retired to her couch. And, laughing unmercifully at Sister Rose and her graphic dream, the girls retired to theirs. And sighing and weeping, and praying forgiveness of the Virgin, for having permitted Satan to deceive her with a sinful dream for such she now felt convinced it must have been Sister Rose lay down upon hers. And shaking her fist threateningly at the sour sister, Jacque- lina peeped out from her curtains. The wicked fairy had not half finished her frolic yet the best part of it was to come. She had to wait a long time before everything was quiet the girls would peep out and whisper to their nearest neighbors, who would reply again. And Sister Rose sighed and sobbed softly on her pillow. And Sister Agnes turned and tossed, and grunted and groaned, and " oh ! dear me"-ed worse than before. The clock struck twelve before all was again in repose. And still Jacquelina waited nearly half an hour, to be certain that no one awoke and watched. But at length she was convinced that Ihey were all asleep, and all the more soundly for having been once disturbed. Then the elf oncp more arose, dropped the wrapper and took off' the night-cap, arranged her yellow curls as before, and set the jaunty middy's cap aside upon them and coming out from hev concealment, stepped softly up to the left hand corner bed, occupied by Sister Agnes. Her bed was uncurtained, like that of Sister Rose ; but here all resemblance ceased. THE MISSING BRIDE. 239 This was quite a different picture. Sister Agnes lay stretched out beneath her coverlet, with her head straight upon the pillow, as rigidly as if she were an effigy carved in marble, or a corpse laid out for burial with both hands clasped upon her hard chest, and grasping the crucifix with a grim grip, as if she had a grudge against the blessed emblem, and meant that it should not escape while she slept. Her stern features were sterner still in sleep. Her eye-lids seemed as if they had been shut down and then screwed down ; and the hard, thin, wiry, firmly closed lipa seemed to be shut up and locked up with a key. Jacquelina looked and laughed at that rigid figure, at thai stern face, and especially at that severe, repellant mouth. " Steel-springs, and rat traps, and crossed-cut saw teeth !" she exclaimed. " I had as lief march my lips up and kiss the muz- zle of a pistol while the fiend held the trigger 1 However, it would never do for the uniform to show the white feather, even under those circumstances ! So here goes ! Verjuice, verdigria and vitriol, though, I know it's going to be dreadful !" she said, making a very wry face as at the sight of a very bitter draught ; and then gathering resolution to swallow it, she suddenly pounced down, and gave the stern sleeper a rousing salute ! "Ah-r-r-r-r-r ah 1 Ah-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-oitch ! Ah-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r- oitch-awl" yelled Sister Agnes, jumping out of bed ! No hyena no screech-owl, ever screamed forth such a hor- rible yell ! No form of English letters could give an idea of the harsh, discordant shrieks that seemed to massacre alike the air and the sense of hearing I Every girl sprang out of her bed, shaking in the last extremity of terror at those awful shrieks. Sister Rose was among them, white as her night-robe, clasping her hands and pattering her ave. Jacquelina had run away at the first alarm, and taken shelter in her curtains. " Murder! murder! murder!" continued to shriek Sister Ag- nes, like one demented. " What is the matter ? Oh ! St. Mary, what is the matter ?" tried the girls, wringing their hands, in the last agony of terror. But as Sister Agnes only ran about with wild eyes, and mouth 240 M I R I A M , THE AVENGER; OR, agape, giving forth those ear-splitting shrieks they clapped their hands to their bruised and wounded ear-drums, and followed her example, running about and screaming with all their might, until soon was heard the sound of many feet, rushing in crowds along all the passages towards the door of this dormitory. AH the nuns, all the teachers, all the pupils, were roused up and pouring thither, while the alarm bell of the convent was ringing as if gone mad 1 The crowd was at the door, the girls ceased their shrieking, and ran and unlocked it. And in pushed the whole convent, with the Mother Abbess at its head. At her coming the whole confusion and distracting noise abated. " What is the matter ?" inquired the Abbess. And " Oh ! what is the matter ? Oh ! what on earth is the matter ?" breathlessly inquired all the nuns, novices and pupils. " Silence, Sisters ! silence, children ! Leave the investigation to me," commanded the Mother, of her followers. Then turn- ing to the crowd of frightened girls, she asked, " Has anything really happened ? Tell me the occasion of this outcry. What is it ?" " Oh ! we don't know ! we don't know ! But we think there is a man in the dormitory !" "A man in the room! Holy St. Mary!" exclaimed all the profoundly shocked nuns, novices, and pupils. " A man in the room impossible !" said the Abbess, while the girls crowded around her, all talking at once, and saying, "We were all asleep, and Sister Agnes screamed out! It was Sister Agnes 1" " Silence, young ladies, and let Sister Agnes come forward and speak for herself. This is really very irregular ! Sister Agnes, please to explain the cause of this false alarm for such i must believe it, since it is absolutely impossible that a man Bcould be here." Sister Agnes came forward, turning up the whites of her eyes, and crossing herself and amid many groans and sighs, told the shocking story of a handsome young officer, in uni- form, who was hidden somewhere in the room, and had come to ber bedside and kissed her in her sleep t THE M I S R-T X G BRIDE. 241 Among the girls who listened to this exciting explanation, was the " culprit fay," herself, who stood theye with her flow- ing night-dress effectually concealing the suit of uniform worn beneath it, and with the middy's tasseied cap also hidden tinder it. The Lady Abbess listened to the story with a very grave face. She was a fair and comely woman of thirty, full fifteen years younger than Sister Agnes, notwithstanding she held, as she deserved to hold, the superior rank. She heard the whole tale to its close, deferring all comment for the present. Then she calmly ordered that the room should be thoroughly searched. And the girls started on the enterprise " Away they ran and the hunt began, Each corner to search, each uook to scan, The highest, the lowest, the murkiest spot, They searched for the culprit, and found him not." Of course not ! Though the room was thoroughly " sifted," no vestige of an intruder could be found. They hunted every- where they looked under every bed, within every set of curtains, shook all the pillows, turned up all the mattrasses, examined the shrine of the Virgin, hunted every nook and cranny. Some of the girls, in their zeal, turned their boots upside down and unrolled and shook their stockings but no hidden enemy dropped out; some, in absence of mind, opened and whirled the leaves of their mass books, but found the pictures of men only. In short, so thorough was the search, that if a pin had been missing, it must have been found ! They searched every- where, except (as usual) the right place, (Jacquelina's unsus- pected person,) and no sign of the enemy could be seen. It was no use there was no man there ! The alarm was a false ore, that was clear. And got up by Sister Agnes, who vowed and protested in vain. Nobody believed her. The girls laughed at her, and the Mother Abbess looked very grave. "I am very much mortified, Sister Agnes," she said, "to be under the painful necessity of rebuking you here, in the pre- oence of these young ladies, your youthful charge, whom your 15 242 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, irreproachable conduct should rather teach to respect yon t It is humiliating to see a woman of your grave and sober years and sacred calling, the subject of such vain and foolish dreams and visions, as must totally unfit you for the post of chief guardian to these young creatures. You will therefore be pleased to consider yourself displaced, and to leave the doi mi- tory this night. I will assign you a cell before I sleep. Sister Serena, you will take Sister Agnes's vacated place." And thus having administered justice, the Lady Abbess mar- shaled her followers, and withdrew from the dormitory, the crest-fallen Sister Agnes going after them ; and Sister Serena remaining in her stead, The young girls, exhausted by so much excitement, sought their pillows, and soon fell asleep. And Jacquelina whispered in confidence to her pillow, " So much for theirs* day !" CHAPTER XIX. DOCTOR GRIMSHAW. There's a cold bearing, And grave, severe aspect about the man, As make our spirits pay him such respect, As though he dwelt 'neath age's silvery pent-house, Despite his years." Fanny KembU. THIS morning came, and Jacquelina was puzzled to kno* where to conceal her contraband uniform. The moment was imminent. The girls were all -ising and going into the hall connected with the dormitory, where, ranged up and down the sides of the walls, were rows of wash-stands, each numbered with the number of the owner. Jacquelina rolled up the suit in the smallest possible corn- pas 1 ', and put it under the mattrass, hoping that it might re- THE MISSIXG BRIDE. 243 main hidden until she could devise some other hiding place fur it. She knew it would never do to put it in her trunk, where it would be certain of being found, when Sister Rose should unpack it. So she was forced to leave it for the present where it was, hoping the best. And she went into the hall, or bathing, or dressing-room, whichever it might be called, and had a wash-stand pointed out for her future use. Then Sister Rose went to her trunk and gave her out her soaps, brushes, combs, napkins, etc. The girls were not tempted to linger over their toilets, for there were no looking-glasses in the apartment, not the smallest apology for one the nuns interdicted them as savoring of the vanities of the world. So the young ladies soon completed their hasty toilets, ud were marched down into the chapel for matins. And when thia was over they were marched in the same order to the refectory for breakfast. And all the while Jacquelina's thoughts were running upon the awful suit of uniform, that dead body hidden under her mattrass ! her emotions being divided between curiosity, anx- iety, and mirth. She had not long to wait, for just as the pupils had risen from the table, and were marching out of the refrectory, one of the lay-sisters came up and quietly singling out Jacquelina, informed her that the Mother Superior desired her presence in the dormitory. Jacquelina was one of those creatures, who, unless she had some great sin upon her conscience, would have jested on the scaffold ! And as she followed the lay-sister, all sensations of anxiety gave way to the thrilling anticipation of fun to come in the looks of the horrified Mother Abbess and her nuns. But Jacko was destined to be a little disappointed. The lay-sister attended her to the door of the dormitory, ud left her She went in. There was no one there but the Ab' bess and Sister Rose the uniform was nowhere in sight. " Shut the door and lock it, Miss L'Oiseau," said the Ab bess, in a grave voice 244 MIKIAM, THE AVENGER; OK, Jacquelina did as she was bidden, saying to herself, " I wonder if they are going to bring me before a secret chapter, and have me inhumed alive for my frolic?" as she approached them, half laughing. The Abbess and Rose were standing near her bed. There &)so she saw a, packet, neatly done up and pinned in a clean napkin, which she felt sure must contain the uniform. "Miss L'Oiseau," commenced the elder lady, speaking in a giave, sad voice, "I need not tell you that the cause of the alarm last night has been discovered. For your own sake, as well as for the sake of our convent, and the young creatures it shelters, I thank the saints that no one is in the secret of your fault except myself and Sister Rose, in whose discretion I have the utmost confidence. But after this indelicate joke, (to use no harsher term,) I must separate you from the young ladies, who should have beeu your companions. Until I hear from your friends, to whom I am about to write, a full account of this matter, you will share my apartment, and be under my personal charge. Sister Rose, conduct Miss L'Oiseau thither. Jacquelina's face, for the very first time in her life, blazed with an overwhelming sense of humiliation. She had never looked on her frolic in so severe a light she had never consi- dered its impropriety indeed she had never considered at all she had acted from impulse. And now that she was made to feel and see a certain indelicacy in her practical joke, her face burned with blushes, and her girlish shame was mingled with indignation against those who had made her feel it. We know that she was very perverse. Smiling and nodding her head at the dignified Lady Superior, she said that she was content .hat in the privacy of her room she should find ample time to devise some new entertainment for herself, and that she was as fertile in resources as any Jesuit among them ! And so saying she followed Sister Rose. The abbess wrote that day, and in the course of a day or two came an answer from Commodore Waugh, enclosing a letter to his neice. His letter to the Abbess explained something THE MISSING BRIDE. 245 of Jacquelina's naturally elfish nature assuring her that it was for the cure of this very fault that he had placed her under the charge of the pious sisterhood ; bagging her not to consider her fault too severely saying that what, k n a model young lady Df society, might be deemed a shocking impropriety, was, in nis wild little Jacko, a mere venial error, entreating her to ac- cept the apology and atonement that he should command his niece to make ; and to try her a little longer. The letter to Jacquelina was quite another matter it wa3 shcrt not sweet, but crusty and characteristic. I apologise for the necessity of introducing it. BENEDICT, Oct. 15th, 1821. You Little Demon ! If you don't go down on your knees and beg sister What's-her-name's pardon, and put yourself right with Mother Thingamy, I'll come and give you the con- foundedest keel-hauling that ever you had ! I'll be shot if I don't ! NICHOLAS WAUGH. This edifying admonition restored Jacquelina to herself, by putting to flight all her new feelings of maiden propriety, and bringing back by association, all her love of fun, frolic and deviltry. Laughing immoderately she seized her pen and wrote as follows : CONVENT OF ST. SERENA, Oct 16th, 182 . Dear Uncle Nick : Haven't the least intention to go on my knees to any being under God wouldn't do it to save myself from death or my soul from purgatory 1 Haven't the least idea either who you mean by " Sister What's-her name," or " Mother Thingamy" nor what manner of punishment " the confound- edest keel-hauling" may be. But I know one thing I'm fuller of fun than than Grim' is of fanaticism ! And if you don't come in two days from this and bring me home, I'll leave you to imagine what I'll do next ! Your dutiful niece, JACQUELINA 246 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, This note was sealed and dispatched. And what do yon think was the result of it ? Why that in about another day and a half, Commodore Waugh came in a state of mind be tween a panic and a fury, and took his exemplary niece home. The journey was performed on the part of the Commodore in unmitigated sulkiness. Only once had he condescended to address Jacquelina, and that was only to inform her that he was tired of the responsibility of taking care of her that it was necessary he should secure her from future harm, and that as soon as they should arrive at home, she should forthwith be married to Grim' that is, if Grim' would have such an un- worthy piece of goods as herself. " He'd better not," laughed Jacquelina. " I'd be the death of him in a twelvemonth." Little did the fairy dream she had uttered a prophecy 1 The Commodore condescended to make no comment on her words, and the journey proceeded in silence. They reached home at the close of the second day. "What did I tell you, Mimmy ?" exclaimed Jacquelina, throwing herself into her mother's arms. Didn't I say I'd be home in a week ? and here I am !" " Oh! Jacquelina 1 you will ruin us both ! you will break my heart !" cried Mrs. L'Oiseau, repelling her caresses and push- ing her away. Not that she was shocked and angered by Jac- quelina's frolics, as that she was afraid, poor piteous creature, to show her child any affection in the Commodore's presence. Mary L'Oiseau, in her humble home at Old Fields, had pos- sessed some self-respect, if little self reliance, but the promising change in her prospects the domination of Commodore Waugh, and the hopes and fears concerning the inheritance of Luckeuough, had been sufficient to disturb the whole frets action of her soul, and make her the shrinking, cringing, timorous creature that we find her now. She was afraid to be kind to her daughter lest she should offend the Commodore. She was not afraid, by submitting to the Commodore, to offend God. For mivh as she dreaded the dies irea, yet wneii tne THE MISSING BRIDE. 247 frar of God and the fear of man contended in her bosom, the nearest dread, the fear of man prevailed. So she kept her daughter at a cold distance. Mrs. Waugh only dared to be kind to Jacquelina. The Commodore was amusing himself by making his family as uncomfortable and anxious as he possibly could under the circumstances. Their apartments at the village hotel were extremely limited consisting only of a small parlor and two tiny bed-rooms, one occupied by himself and Henrietta, and the other by Mary L'Oiseau and Jacquelina the whole suite, you perceive, scarcely big enough for the Commodore to "blow out" and storm in. So for hours after breakfast he would sit in the big arm chair in the parlor, puffing great volumes of smoke from his tobacco- pipe, and filling all the rooms and scenting all the window- curtains, bed-draperies and wearing apparel with the stifling vapor, till between smoke and fear, Mary L'Oiseau was always ill. And bad as that was, it was not the worst that only in- flicted discomfort ; another practice gave the greatest uneasi- ness the Commodore would spend his afternoons and nights playing cards and losing money in the bar-room. How long this would have lasted, or how far it might have progressed, it is impossible to tell ; had not " Locust Hill," the place of Mr. Hughes, deceased, been advertised for rent. And as Luckenough was far enough from completion, and as the Commodore himself was smothering for want of space, he rented it at once, sent to Baltimore for furniture, which he said would do to help to refurnish Luckenough. As soon as it arrived he went once more to housekeeping. " Locust Hill " was a moderate sized country house, situated on a gentle elevation, just outside of the village, and sur- rounded by a grove of the trees from which it was named. More servants were sent for from the quarters at Luckenough, and here the family found themselves, as to external surround ings, tolerably comfortable in body, if bodily comfort could co- exist with suc\ arxiety of mind as they *vere called upon to endure. 248 MIRIAM, THE AV-ENGEK; OK, For, oh 1 the Commodore continued his visits to the village hotel, where he would frequently play until he lost a large sum of money, and then he would come home in the most ungovernable rage with the whole family swearing that they were the mosfc extravagant set of people that had ever ruined a man or brought themselves to beggary that he would not be trampled on by them any longer that Henrietta should be cut down to one quarter of her present outlay for household provisions, and that that little devil should be married to Grim', or should tramp with her fool of a mother forthwith ! And that was all poor Mary got for her submission. Such threats regularly sent her to bed with a sick headache. And he swore that in his own house he was "supreme ruler," and meant that they should know it, too ! And, indeed, with the sums of money he was losing at the gaming-table, and the sums he was expending in the rebuilding of Luckenough, Henrietta became so alarmed, that, with the piteous ineffectual manner of women under such circumstances, she began first to economise in her personal comforts saving pennies while he was wasting pounds. Among other things whereas she had been accustomed to have two or three seamstresses in the house twice a year, to make up the clothing for the plantation negroes now she and Mary L'Oiseau undertook, with the help of the maid Maria, to do the whole work, and night after night they might be seen gathered around the table, sewing diligently by the light of two home-dipped tallow candles. Now what do you think the Commodore actually did upon one night? Coming home from the village, after having lost more money than usual, he seized one of these candles, and turned it down into its socket, exclaiming, " I'll b shot if retrenchment mustn't commence somewheie!" And the building up of Luckenough! The architect and Lis subordinates had a time of it 1 For it was the first time that the Commodore had ever had the importance and excitement and enjoyment of a builder and every morning he rode ovei to Luckenough and passed the forenoon in " dragooning" the THE MISSING BRIDE. 249 Contractor, and driving the workmen, making them pull down this, and alter that, and put up the other, in open defiance of all rules of building, until the men were nearly driven to their wits' ends, and the time and cost of completing the house was extended indefinitely. Indeed all family, dependants, and hired assistants, were so thoroughly worn out with the Commodore, that his best friends in their hearts prayed for the coming of the fogs and rains of November, that should literally " lay him up by the legs" in his own room, and confine his domination within limited bounds. At last, towards the latter end of November, their prayers seemed answered, and the Commodore, swathed in flannels, and wrapped in blankets, reclined in his great easy-chair, with his leg laid out upon pillows on another. And from the neighborhood of this chair, Henrietta sedu- lously kept everything that could be used as a missile, even his crutch. His meals used to be served on a little stand beside his chair but one day he threw a fork at poor Maria, wound- ing her face, and narrowly missing destroying her eye. And after that, Henrietta cut his victuals up into small mouthfuls, and sent him up a teaspoon to eat with. You may imagine the furious storm that arose then, and how the Commodore hurled plate, bowl and pitcher all through tie window-glass into the yard. But Henrietta told him it was of no use, that though every member of the family, from herself down to the least servant, should serve him faithfully, yet she could not have people, especially poor, helpless maid-servants, killed, crippled, or blinded in her house ; that she should certainly send him no more knives and forks, and if he threw another china plate through the window sash, she should send him up his food on a large cabbage leaf, and his drink in a gourd. If he would act like a madman he must be treated as such people were not to be exposed to wanton injury, nor property to wanton destruction. 250 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, A notable blessing was the result, for the Commodore swore i furious oath, by all the demons, that not one of the family should enter his room again during his illness, that he would be nursed only by Grim', and waited on only by Festus (" Stupe"). This new law was immediately executed. Grim' was sum- moned and installed as nurse, and Festus brought from Luck- enough and established as waiter, to the inexpressible relief of the sorely fatigued and harassed family. And all went on smoothly enough for a while, until one day, when Grim' was dressing the swollen limb, Festus, with a basin of hot water, approached trembling, as he always did when he drew near his dangerous and uncertain master. " Drop that basin on my leg, you little rascal, you!" vocife- rated the Commodore, seeing how shakingly he held it. When forthwith Festus, the literal interpretist, dropped the basin upon the leg, as he was bid. A horrible yell burst from the Commodore, who, with one galvanic bound, overset Grim', and seized Festus by the ears, and dragging him up within the bear hug of one arm, pum- rneled him with the other until the boy was black and blue, and the Commodore himself exhausted. This brought on a severe crisis of his disease. He had to be put to bed, the doctor had to be summoned, and a long and serious fit of illness ensued. Mrs. Waugh, of course, was im- mediately reinstated. Dr. Grimshaw, at the Commodore's invitation, became an inmate of the house, which was so convenient to the village where his daily duties called him. Whenever the Commodore was sufficiently free from pain and fever, Mrs. Waugh and Mary L'Oiseau were sent from the loom, and Grim' was summoned. And long consultations were held by the two conspirators in the sick room. The result was, that Dr. Grimshaw became the daily perse- cutor of Jacquelina. But the beautiful elf mocked and derided him ' turned him into all sorts of ridicule ! laughed him to scorn 1 THE MISSING BRIDE. 251 And the more she charmed and fascinated him oy her laugh- ter and her sparkling wit leveled at himself though it was- the more impassioned he became ; declaring that her girlish Bcorn was but the effervescing bead upon the champagne showing the excellency of the wine. And the more earnest he became, the more unmercifully shs jibed and jeered at him the more immoderately she laughed. Until one day when, as he vowed in his singularly sweet tones that he loved her to distraction, she ordered him to go down on both his knees and tell her so ; and then, and not till then, she would give him an answer; for how dared he make a declaration of love to her from any other position ? And when the lost, infatuated man actually obeyed her laughing behest, and dropped upon his knees at her feet, she fell back in her chair, and laughed herself nearly into convulsions. The Pro- fessor began to feel humilitated and indignant, and once or twice made a start to rise ; but, between her peals of laughter, Jacquelina raised her finger and told him no ! that he was to Btay there, and wait for her answer. And there she kept him until she became tired of the fun ; then, recovering from the iast paroxysm of her laughter, she said, " Doctor Grimshaw, not to keep you in suspense, I never intend to be married at all ! I scorn the idea ! And, least of all men, would I have you! for, dearest Ghoul, not to flatter you, I bad as lief wed Old Time, with his scythe, or Death, with his skull and cross-bones !" His teeth closed with a snap he started up with a spring, and darting upon her a look of mingled longing and hatred, he hissed, " Very well ! we shall see that \V " Why, what does the Fright mean?" said Jacquelina, arch* ing her eyebrows and pursing her lips; " are threats and ill- temper the way to win a lady's love ?" But Grim' had gone gone to answer a summons from the Commodore, sent an hour before. Now, Doctor Grimshaw was no fright, though by no means 10 handsome as tin partial eyes of the Comnmdoro found him. 252 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, His appearance was singular and somewhat repellant. He was extremely tall and thin, with rounded, stooping shoulders, like those of the Commodore himself. He chose always to be clothed in a tight suit of solemn black a style of dress that was characteristic of the man, and which exaggerated the tall, thin, spectral look of his figure, and the pale, livid hue of his complexion. He had black hair and eyes, and eyebrows that nearly met at the narrow, sunken root of his long nose; his cheeks were hollow, and his chin projecting, and his teeth had a habit of catching with a snap, when anything suddenly enraged him. One looked at him with a mingled feeling of fear, dislike, and pity as if he were very little more responsible for the evil and danger that might be in him, than the serpent is for its fangs and venom ; as if his faults were those of original sin and hereditary growth, rather than of his own willful importation and cultivation. Ignatius Loyola Grimshaw was a foreigner by birth ; he had come over with the Commodore when the latter returned to hia native country, and the influence of the old man had obtained him his present position and standing in the county. Some surprise was expressed, and some conjectures made, concerning the unusual interest and great affection the rugged old soldier bore to his protege ; but, as time passed, and the walk of Doctor Grimshaw was exemplary to a degree, these suspicions and conjectures gradually died out, and the partiality of the old man for the young one was set down as one of hia unaccountable whims. And so Doctor Grimshaw grew in favor with man, if not with Him who seeth not as man seeth. Such was the pet of Commodore Waugh and the lover of Jacqnelina such the man whose love she made the object of her merry scorn. Poor Sans Souci 1 her laughing days were almost over ! The Commodore, like the frozen adder of the fable, was " com- ing round" again, under the tender care of Henrietta and Mary L'Oiseau, and was preparing to sting at least one of the handa that bad nursed him back to life, namely, "poor, misfortnit THE MISSING BRIDE. 253 Mi?-? Mary,'' as Jenny called her Jenny, who now freely de- dared ".hat she was very sorry she had ever " 'vised her to go to Old Nick.'' The Commodore swore that he knew how "to make Jacquelina knuckle under," and that he meant to do it, just as soon as he was able to use his limbs. It was now the middle of December. The snow was on the ground, and the weather was bitterly cold. One morning, during a snow-storm that kept all the family and all the female servants confined within doors, the Commodore seized the oc- casion to send for Jacquelina to his room. She came in laughing at some merry jest that she had left behind. But the Commodore sternly motioned her to a seat, which she took, and fearlessly waited for him to speak. He told her roundly that he had come to the fixed and un- alterable determination to have her married to Grimshaw, at Christmas and that she might go and prepare herself for an honor that he considered far above her merits. " So much above my merits," said the elf, nodding her saucy head at him, "that I haven't the least idea of accepting it." " And by all the fiends in flames ! Miss, you SHALL accept it! I'll be shot to death if I'll be fooled by you, or trampled on by your mother any longer ?" "Trampled on by my mother! Holy saints!" laughed Jacquelina, "the idea of my poor, timorous Mimmy trampling on anybody, much less you !" " You laugh, you limb you I I'll make you laugh on the wrong side of your mouth before I've done with you!" "Which -is the wrong side, uncle?" " Silence, Minx, before I box your ears !" " I vow, if you were to do that, uncle, I'd seize your sick leg and give it such a loving squeeze, as would put you to bed for another month!" " I believe you would, you little incarnate demon ! But listen here ! I do not mean to be foiled this time ! For, bj nil tho saints in heaven, and all the fiends in " 254 MIRIAM, THE AVENGE K ; OR, "H-sh-sh-sh! you mustn't speak of your future home to ears polite!" " I wont be balked, you little vixen you. I'll finish what I was a-goiug to say that is, that by Satan you shall be married to Grim', at the coming Christmas !" "It would certainly be only by that agency, if I were for surely no such marriage as that could be made in heaven. Look you here, uncle," she said, half laughing, though wholly in earnest; "I would not marry Doctor Grimshaw for Luck- enough, and all that it will contain no, not to save his life, nor my own, nor yours, uncle ! I would sooner see Luck- enough burned again to the ground, and the soil ploughed up and sown with salt, to make it a sterile desert forever. I would sooner see Doctor Grimshaw hung, and you in your grave, and myself in my coffin than doomed to the living tomb of a mar- riage with Doctor Grimshaw !" " Then, by heaven! I'll turn you out of doors." "No you wont, by 'heaven,' uncle. You will do it by the other agency you mentioned !" laughed Jacquelina. " I'll give you until Christmas, to come to your senses but if upon Christmas eve you are not prepared to marry Doctor Grimshaw, I'll thrust you into the street to starve!" " You can do that ! but, praise be to the Lord ! you can't make me marry Doctor Grimshaw ! So you do as you please, uncle ! and do it as soon as you please ! I would rather beg my bread, free and merry, than be the wife of that man ! No earthly power can or shall compel me to marry Doctor Grim- shaw! Fiddle-de-dee! The very idea of such a thing!" she exclaimed, leaving her earnestness, and by a sudden transition, breaking into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. In a rage, her uncle drove her from the room, and she ran off to finish her fit of laughing in her own apartment. Poor Sans Souci ! poor Lapwing ! how little she really of those "earthly powers," she so fearlessly defied. T U E .MISSING BRIDE. 26J CHAPTER XX. CLIPPING A BIRD'S "And the maiden's face stopped its play, As if her first hair had grown gray For such things must begin some day! In a day or two she was well again. As w.ho should say' You labor in vain I This is all a jest against God, who meant I should erer be, as I am, content And glad in his sight-, therefore glad I will be.' So smiling as at first went she." Browning. IT is written, "Thou shalt not seethe the kid in its mother's milk." Yet Commodore Waugh did not hesitate to do thia thine The only way by which he could control Jacquelina, was through her affection for her mother for filial love was now the sole human and vulnerable part of the fairy's nature, and he did not shrink from attacking that point. Jacquelina had continued to laugh at his threats, and to defy his fury. And he felt at last that she would, in her own per- son, brave any fate, rather than have an unwelcome marriage forced upon her. But her mother! he meant to make her tremble for the fate of her mother ! For a year past, that poor woman's health, unnoticed by all, except good Henrietta, had been sinking. A close room, an infected atmosphere, a storm raised by the Commodore, a change in the weather, a little indiscretion in diet, anything of the kind was enough to make her ill for a day or a week, as it hap- pened. There was also the little hacking cough, and the after- noon flush in the cheeks, and light in. the eyes, and elevation of the animal spirits, that could scarcely as yet be recognized as hectic fever. Jacquelina was too young and inexperienced, and all the rest of the family too careless to notice the insidious approach of death all, except Henrietta, who watched the 256 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, victim with anxiety, frequently warning her in something like this manner, " Mary, you must attend to that cough," or, "Mary, child, don't sit in that draught of cold 7> " or, "It uj time you had on your flannel, Mary." This watchfulness and these admonitions had increased so much of late, that they had attracted Jacquelina's attention, and directed it to her mother and the young girl noticed for the first time that she was very thin, and that her voice was weak, and her footsteps faint and slow yet every day, after dinner, when the invalid had such a fine color, and such a flow of spirits, Jacquelina was reassured. One day, however, when Mrs. Waugh had been more than usually anxious in her thoughtfuluess for the poor little woman, Jacquelina followed her aunt to her room, and asked, gravely, " Aunty ! is there anything the matter with my Mimmy ?" The tears swam in Henrietta's eyes as she looked at the girl. " Your mother has not been well for a long time, my dear. She is neither well nor happy therefore you must be very attentive to her, Lapwing, and very careful not to wound or disturb her in any way by your frolics, or you may some day greatly repent it." " Aunty ! you don't mean to say that Mimmy is seriously ill ?" " Yes, my dear, she is seriously out of health I but we can do much to help her especially you can, Lapwing, You are her only child, and her greatest comfort, and you must do all that you can to serve her." " I am sure I will, aunty! There is nothing in the world I would not do for my Mimmy ! But you don't, you don't think there is any danger, do you ?" she asked, as her eyes overflowed with tears. " Oh, no, my dear ! No immediate danger. We must be very careful of her that is all!" But the young girl was not satisfied a weight had fallen upon her heart she had learned to ponder, to watch, to hope, and to fear, for one she loved " whom death might touch." From that day forth, she watched her mother's changing face THE MISSING BRIDE. 257 with tenderness and anxiety, waiting on her, anticipating her wishes, saving her steps and labor, shielding her from harm, and from her uncle's frequent harshness, in a way that no one would have believed of the elf In the night she often left her bed to creep on tiptoe to her mother's room, to ascertain if she slept soundly, and often find- ing her awake and feverish, she would slip down stairs, and go to the distant spring to get a pitcher of fresh water to lave her burning head, and slake her burning thirst. These night fe- vers would go off towards morning in a profuse perspiration, and Mary L'Oiseau would rise, though weak, and go about the house as usual. But the clouds were fast gathering over poor Sans Souci's heavens. The Commodore had quite recovered for the time being, and he began to urge the marriage of his niece with his favorite. Doctor Grimshaw's importunities were also becoming very tire- some. They were no longer a jest. She could no longer divert herself with them. She felt them as a real persecution, and expressed herself accordingly. To Grim' she said, " Once I used to laugh at you. But now I do hate you more than anything in the universe ! And I wish I do wish that you were in Heaven ! for I do detest the very sight of you there !" And to the Commodore's furious threats she would answer, " Uncle, the time has passed by centuries ago for forcing girls into wedlock, thanks be to Christianity and civilization You can't force me to hare Grim', and you had as well give up the wicked purpose," or words to that effect. One day when she had said something of the sort, the Com- modore answered cruelly, " Very well, Miss ! / force no one, please to understand 1 But I afford my protection and support only upon certain con- ditions, and withdraw them when those conditions are not ful- filled ! Neither you nor your mother had any legal claim upon me. / was not in any way bound to feed and clothe and house 16 258 i MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, you for so many years. I did it with the tacit understanding that you were to marry to please me, and all your life you have understood, as well as any of us, that you were to wed Doctor Grimshaw." " If such an understanding existed, it was without my con. sent, and was originated in my infancy, and I do not feel and 1 will not be in the least degree bound by it ! For the expense of my support and education, uncle ! I am truly sorry that you risked it upon the hazardous chance of my liking or disliking the man of your choice ! But as I had no hand in your ven- ture, I do not feel the least responsible for your losses. Yours is the fate of a gambler in human hearts who has staked and lost that is the worst !" "And by all the fiends in fire, Minion ! you shall find that it is not the worst, /know how to make you knuckle under, and I shall do it!" exclaimed the Commodore in a rage, as he rose up and strode off towards the room occupied by Mary L'Oiseau. Without the ceremony of knocking, he burst the door open with one blow of his foot, and entered where the poor, feverish, frightened creature was lying down to take a nap. Throwing himself into a chair by her bedside, he commenced a furious attack upon the trembling invalid. He recounted, with much exaggeration, the scene that had just transpired between him- self and Jacquelina repeated with additions her undutiful words, bitterly reproached Mary for encouraging and fostering that rebellious and refractory temper in her daughter, warned her to bring the headstrong girl to a sense of her position and duty, or to prepare to leave his roof; for he swore he "wouldn't be hectored over and trodden upon by her nor her daughter any longer I" And so having overwhelmed the timid, nervous woman with undeserved reproaches and threats, he arose and left the room. And can any one be surprised that her illness was increased, and her fever arose, and her senses wandered all night ? When her mother was ill, Jacquelina could not sleep. Now she sat by her bedside sponging her hot hands, and keeping ice. to her THE MISSING BE IDE. 259 head, and giving drink to slake her burning thirst, and iisten- mg, alas ! to her sad and rambling talk about their being turned adrift in the world to starve to death, or to perish in the snow 1 calling on her daughter to save them both by yielding to her uncle's will ! And Jacquelina heard and understood, and wept and sighed a new experience to the poor girl, who was " Not used to tears at night Instead of slumber 1" All through the night she nursed her with unremitting care. And in the morning, when the fever waned, and the patient was wakeful, though exhausted, she left her only to bring the re- freshing cup of tea and plate of toast, prepared by her own hands. But when she brought it to the bedside, the pale invalid waved it away. She felt as if she could not eat. Fear had clutched her heart, and would not relax its hold. " I want to talk to you, Jacquelina," she said. " Eat and drink first, Mimmy, and then you and I will havtj such another good talk!" said Jacquelina, coaxingly. " I can't 1 Oh ! I can't swallow a mouthful, I am choking now 1" " Oh ! that is nothing but the hysterics, Miminy ! ' high strikes,' as Jenny calls them ! I feel like I should have them myself sometimes ! Come 1 cheer up, Mimmy ! Your fever i& off, and your head is cool 1 Come, take this consoling cup of tea and bit of toast, and you will feel so much stronger and cheerfuler." " Tea ! Oh ! everything I eat and drink in this unhappy bouse is bitter the bitter cup and bitter bread of dependaiice 1" ''Put more sugar into it then, Mimmy, and sweeten itl Come ! Things are not yet desperate ! Cheer up 1" " What do you mean, my love ? Have you consented to bo married to Professor Grimshaw !" " No ! St. Mary ! Heaven forbid !" exclaimed Jacquelina, shuddering for the first time. " Now, why ' Heaven forbid ?' Oh ! my child, why are you so 260 MIRIAM, THE A V F X O E R J OR, perverse ? Why wont you take him, since your uncle has set his heart upon the match ?" "Oh, mother ?" " I know you are very young to be married too young ! far too young ! Only sixteen, gracious heaven ! But then you know we have no alternative but that, or starvation ; and it is not as if you were to be married to a youth of your own age this gentleman is of grave years and character, which makes a great difference." "I should think it did." " What makes you shiver and shake so, my dear ? Are you cold, or nervous? Poor child, you got no sleep last night. Do you drink that cup of tea, my dear. You need it more than I do." "No, no." " Why, what is the matter with my fairy ?" "Oh, mother, mother, don't take sides against me! don't! or you will drive me to my ruin. Who will take a child's part, if her mother don't. I love you best of all the world, mother. Do not take sides against me ! take my part 1 help me to be true ! to be true." "True to whom, Jacquelina ? What are you talking about ?" " True to this heart to this heart, mother ! to all that is honest and good in my nature." " I don't understand you at all." " Oh, mother, the thought of marrying anybody is unwelcome to me, now ; and the idea of being married to Grim' is abhor- rent ; is like that of being sold to a master that I hate, or sent to prison for life ; it is full of terror and despair. Oh ! oh ! " " Don't talk so wildly, Jacquelina ; you make me ill." "Do I, Mimmy? Oh, I didn't mean to worry you. Bear ip, Mimmy ; do try to bear up ; don't fear ; suppose he does tur me out. I am but a little girl, and food and clothing are iheap enough in the country, and any of our neighbors will take me in just for the fun I'll make them. La ! yes, that they will, just as gladly as they will let in the sunshine." THE MISSING BRIDE. 261 " Oh, child, how little you know of the world. Yes, for a day or two, or a week or two, scarcely longer. And even if you could find a home, who would give shelter to your poor, sick mother, for the rest of her life ?" " Mother ! uncle would never deny you shelter upon mj account," exclaimed Jacquelina, growing very pale. " Indeed he will, my child ; he has ; he came in here last night, and warned me to pack up and leave the house." " He will not dare even he, so to outrage humanity and public opinion, and everything he ought to respect." " My child, he will. He has so set his heart upon making Nace Grimshaw his successor at Luckenough, that if you disappoint him in this darling purpose, there will be no limit to his rage and his revenge. And he will not only send us from his roof, but he will seek to justify himself and further ruin us by blackening our names. Your wildness and eccentricity will be turned against us, and so distorted and misrepresented as to ruin us forever." " Mother I mother ! he is not so wicked as that." " He is furious in his temper, and violent in his impulses he will do all that under the influence of disappointment and pas- sion, however he may afterwards repent his injustice. You nzust not disappoint him, Jacquelina." " / disappoint him ? Why, Mimmy, Luckenough does not belong to me. And if he wants Grim' to be his successor, why, as I have heard aunty ask him, does he not make him his heir?" " There are reasons, I suspect, my dear, why he cannot do so I think he holds the property by such a tenure, that he cannot alienate it from the family. And the only manner in which ha can bestow it upon Doctor Grimshaw, will be through. his vrifo, if the doctor should marry some relative." " That is it, hey ? Well ! I will not be made a sumpter- mule to carry this rich gift over to Doctor Grimshaw even if there is no other way of conveyance. Mother ! what is the reason the Professor is such a favorite with uncle ?" "My dear, I don't know, but I have often had my suff picions." 262 MIEIAM, THE AVENGER; OK, 1 Of what, Murray ? " Of a very near, though unacknowledged relationship ; don't question me any farther upon that particular point, my dear, for I really know nothing whatever about it. Oh, dear " And the invalid groaned and turned over. l! Mother, you are very weak ; mother, please to take some tea; let me go get you some hot." " Tell me, Jacquelina; will you do as the old man wishes you?" " I will tell you, after you take some refreshments," said Jacquelina. " Well \ go bring me some." The girl went and brought more hot tea and toast, and waited until her mother had drank the former, and partaken of a morsel of the latter. When, in answer to the eager, inquiring look, she said : " Mother I if I alone were concerned, I would leave this house this moment, though I should never have another roof over my head. But for your sake, mother, I will still fight the battle. I will try to turn uncle from his purpose. I will try to awaken Grim's generosity, if he has any, and get him to withdraw his suit. I will get aunty to use her influence with both of them, and see what can be done. But as for marrying Dr. Grimshaw, mother I know what I am saying I would rather die!" " And see me die, my child ?" " Oh, mother I it will not be so bad as that." " Jacquelina, it will. Do you know what is the meaning of these afternoon fevers and night sweats, and this cough ?" " I know it means that you are very much out of healih, Mimmy, but I hope you will be well in the spring." " Jacquelina, it means death." " Oh, no I No, no I No, no I Not so ! There's Miss Nancy Skamp has had a cough every winter ever since I knew her, and she is not dead nor likely to die, and you will be well in the spring," said the girl, changing color and faltering in p?te of herself. THE MISSTXG BP, IDE. 263 " I shall never see another spring, my child " " Oh, mother I don't I don't say so. You " "Hear me out, my dear; I shall never live to see another spring, unless I can have a quiet life, with peace of mind. These symptoms, my child, mean death, sooner or later. My life may be protracted for many years, if I can live in peace and comfort ; but if I must suffer privation, want, and anxiety, I cannot survive many months, Jacquelina." The poor girl was deadly pale ; she started up and walked the floor in a distracted manner, crying, "What shall I do ! Oh ! what shall I do !" " It is very plain what you shall do, my child. You must marry Dr. Grimshaw. Come, my dear, be reasonable. If I did not think it best for your happiness and prosperity, I would not urge it. No, not to prevent myself being homeless and starving in my illness. But, Jacquelina, look on both sides of the subject. If you do not marry Dr. Grimshaw, your uncle will disinherit you, and send us both out, houseless wanderers ; here is, then, on one side, beggary and a blighted name. On the other, wealth and position. Jacquelina, my child, this is no Arcadian world whose people can live on sentiment, heroism, love, or, still less, on 'freedom, fun and frolic,' your favorite watch-words. Those who are well housed, well clothed, and well fed, have abundance to be thankful for. They can do without the ideal raptures of love and romance, and the rest of the nonsense that exists nowhere but in the crazed brains of poets and novelists. Food, and clothing, and warmth, and shelter, are the necessaries of life ; the rest is but fantastical foolishness ; not so much amiss if they can be had in addition to the others, but never to be purchased at their expense. Now, if you will only be a sensible girl, and a dutiful child, and e brought up like clodhoppers. And straightway he ordered his carriage, threw himself into it, and rode over to Charlotte Hall, where he entered the names of his two young relatives as pensioners at his own proper cost. This done, he ordered his coachman to take the road to Dell- Delight, where he had an interview with Mr. Willcoxen. And as he met little opposition from the old man, who seemed to think that it was no more than fair that the boys' ancle should share the expense of educating them he sought out the youths, whom he found in the field, and bade them leave the plough, and go and prepare themselves to go to C and get educated, as befitted the grandnephews of a gentleman ! The lads were at that time far too simple-minded and too clannish to feel their pride piqued at this offer, or to take of- fence at the rude manner in which it was made. Commodore Waugh was their granduncle, and therefore had a right to edu- cate them, and to be short with them, too, if he pleased. That was the way in which they also looked at the matter. And very much delighted and very grateful they were for the opening for education thus made for them. And very zealously they entered upon their academical stu- dies. They boarded at the college and roomed together. But their vacations were spent apart, Thurston spending his at Dell-Delight, and Cloudy his at Luckenough. When the academical course was completed, Commodore Waugb, as has been seen, was at some pains to give Cloudy a fair start in life, and for the first time condescended to use his influence with "the Department" to procure a favor in the shape of a midshipman' warrant foi Cloudesley Mornington. THE MISSING BEIDE. 295 In the meantime, old Mr. "Willcoxen was very gradually sinking into the imbecility natural to his advanced age ; and his fascinating grandson was gaining some ascendancy over his mind. Year by year this influence increased, though it must be admitted that Thurston's conquest over his grandfather's whims, was as slow as that of the Hollanders in winning the land from the sea. However, the old man now that Cloudy was provided for and off his hands, lent a more willing ear to the petition of Thurston to be permitted to continue his education by a course of studies at a German university, and afterwards by a tour of the Eastern continent. Thurston's absence was prolonged much beyond the original intention, as has been related he spent two years at the uni- ^ersity, two in travel, and nearly two in the city of Paris. His grandfather would certainly never have consented to this prolonged absence, had it been at his own cost ; but the ex- penses were met by advances upon Thurston's own small pa trim-ony. And in fact, when at last the young gentleman returned to his native country, it was because his property was nearly ex- hausted, and his remittances were small, few, and far between, grudgingly sent, and about to be stopped. Therefore nearly penniless, but perfectly free from the smallest debt or degrada- tion elegant, accomplished, fastidious yet truthful, generous, gallant and aspiring, Thurston left the elegant saloon and ex- citing scenes of Paris, for the comparative dullness and dreari- ness of his native place and his grandfather's house. He had reached his legal majority just before leaving Paris. And soon after his arrival at home, he was appointed trustee of poor Fanny Laurie's property. His first act was to visit Fanny in the distant asyium in which she was -^nfined, and ascertain her real condition. And naving heard her pronounced incurable, though perfectly harm- less, he determined to release her from the confinement of the asylum, and to bring her home to her native county, where 296 MIRIAM, THE AVENGEE; OE, among the woods and hills and streams, she might lind at once that freedom, space and solitude so desired by the heart-sick or brain-sick, and where also his own care might avail her. Old Mr. Willcoxen, far from offering opposition to this plan, actually favored it though from the less worthy motive of economy. What was the use of spending money to pay her board, and nursing, and medical attendance, in the asylum, when she might be boarded and nursed and doctored so much cheaper at home ? For the old man confidently looked forward to the time when the poor, fragile, failing creature would sink into the grave, and Thurston would become her heir. And he calculated that every dollar they could save of her income, would be so much added to the inheritance when Thurston should come into it. Very soon after Thurston's return home, his grandfather gave him to understand the conditions upon which he intended to make him his heir they were two in number viz., first, that Thurston should never leave him again while he lived and secondly, that he should never marry without his consent. For I don't wish to be left alone in my old age, my dear boy nor do I wish to see you throw yourself away upon any girl whose fortune is less than the estate I intend to bequeath entire to yourself." THE MISSING BRIDE. 297 CHAPTER XXIII. MARIAN, THE INSPIRES. Oh I she that hath a heart of that fine frame To pay this debt of love but to her neighbor, How will she IOTO when the rich golden shaft Hath killed the flock of all affections else That live in her! when bosom, brain and heart, Those sovereign thrones, are all supplied and filled- Her sweet perfections with but one self-king." Shakspeart, IT was not fortunate for old Mr. Willcoxen's plans, that his grandson should have met Marian Mayfield. For, on the mcrn- ing of Thurston's first meeting with the charming girl, when he turned his horse's head from the arched gateway of Old Field Cottage and galloped off, "a haunting shape and image gay" attended him. It was that of beautiful Marian, with her blooming face and sunny hair, and rounded roseate neck and bosom and arms, all softly, delicately flushed with the pure glow of rich, luxuriant vitality, as she stood in the sunlight, under the arch of azure morning-glories, with her graceful arms raised in the act of binding up the vines. That was the enchanting picture ! And no slightest beauty of it was lost or dimmed in memory no glisten of the sun ray in the ripples of her golden bronze hair ; no shadow of the eye- lashes on her blushing cheeks ; no curve of the fresh ripe lips : no rise and fall of the rounded, glowing bosom; no motion cf the rosy arms, that was not like a breathing life before him. At first this "image fair" was almost unthought of he was scarcely conscious of the haunting presence, or the life and light it gradually diffused through his whole being. And when the revelation dawned upon his intellect, he smiled to himself, and wondered if, for the first time, he was falling in love ; and then ne cjrew grave, and trie** to banish the dangerous thought. But 298 MIEIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, when, day after day, amid all the business and the pleasures oi his life, the "shape" still pursued him, instead of getting angry with it or growing weary of it, he opened his heart and took *t in, and made it at home, and set it upon a throne, where it reigned supreme, diffusing delight over all his nature. But soon, too soon, this bosom's sovereign became the despot, and stung, goaded and urged him to see again its living, breathing, glowing, most beautiful original ! To seek her ? for what ? He did not even try to answer the question. Thus passed one week. And then, had he been disposed to forget the beautiful girl, he could not have done so. For everywhere where the busi- ness of his grandfather took him, around among the neighbor- ing planters, to the villages of B or of C , everywhere he heard of Marian, and frequently he saw her, though at a distance, or under circumstances that made it impossible for mm, without rudeness, to address her. He both saw and heard of her in scenes and society where he could hardly have ex- pected to find a young girl of her insignificant position. He made some very discreet and seemingly indifferent little inquiries about her, and adroitly led on others to speak of her And from all he heard of her goodness, her disinterestedness, and her young wisdom blended with sweet and gracious joy- ousness. And, in truth, it is seldom that a creature so nearly faultless appears, or that in a world so given to envy and detraction aa this, a young girl so beautiful and gifted as Marian wins such niiiversal suffrages in her favor. The reasons might have been partly these : A stranger and a foreigner, without the advan- tages of wealth, family, or social position, in the most conser- vative and exclusive of all neighborhoods, her personal excel- lencies, without worldly distinctions, could not stand in the way of any one. She lived a very cheerful, busy, beneficent, and unexacting life, seldom leaving her little home except at the call of duty or benevolence. Truly those errands often drew her forth, foz Marian was eminently social and sympathetic. She THE MISSING BRIDE. 299 was the friend of everybody. Her sweetest earthly pleasure was the pure one of doing good, relieving pain, supplying want, comforting affliction, conferring benefits, and her highest earthly joy, approaching that of Heaven, was the delight of delighting others ! Both queen and priestess she should have been, by right of these instincts and capacities. These consti- tuted her happiness, these gave her power and influence far beyond the sphere of her rank and sex and circumstances, and these, alas ! finally contributed to work her lasting, bitter woe ! And how much of her young life, her spirit's strength, she contrived to infuse into the apathetic community around her. There were several notable improvements commenced within the last few years in the two villages and in the county. These were day-schools for the children of the poor, and night-schools for young men otherwise employed during the day. There were Sunday-schools. There were societies for relieving and improving the condition of the poor. And, finally, there was an annual fair for stimulating the enterprize and emulation of farmers and housewives, and for rewarding excellence in agri- culture, floriculture, gardening, and domestic economy in all its branches. And when Thurston learned the origin and history of these new agents of progress that were gradually quickening the old, torpid community into life, and preparing its perfect resurrec- tion from the dead, he discovered also that the beautiful and gifted Marian had been the Inspirer 1 Strange, and passing strange, that a young girl, without for- tune, without family, without social distinction of any sort should, by the mere strength of heart and brain, the faculty of much loving and great thinking, have attained such a spell over hearts and minds, a power that she used, as she used all her advantages, for the good of humanity. . And Thurston marvelled that one of such humble fortunes should have gained such an influence, and moved in such en- erprizes. " Humble fortunes 1" Had Marian been a " crowned queen'' 300 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, she could not have felt or revealed a more natural, serene and unobtrusive consciousness of personal power a more habitual self-possession, self-reliance, and self-respect; and all this "self" was without selfishness, as every act of her life proved, and this air and manner inspired perfect faith in those whom she wished to influence. When Thurston heard her spoken of, it was not with the mere admiration bestowed upon a beautiful girl, but with a cer tain esteem, deference, or enthusiastic encomium, according to the age or temperament of the speakers. She was scarcely twenty years of age, yet in the last three oi four years had refused more eligible offers of marriage than any heiress in the county. Far the least notable among the rejected being Doctor Weismann, who, unknown to Miss Nancy, who kept hin? tied to her apron string, had made the offer of hia heart, hand, and professional prospects to the portionless girl. And the most important among them was the judge of the county court, a grave, handsome man of middle age and con- siderable property, who sought to win the beautiful Marian through what he mis-judged to be her ruling passions, the love of power, and the power of patronage. He urged upon her the argument of how widely the sphere of her influence and useful- ness would be increased, when she should become the wife of a man of property and extensive connections. But, "No," was Marian's laughing rejoinder; "I have observed that in this country, when a woman becomes the sole property of one man, she loses her influence with all the rest." " Then," said the judge, "for the sake of general usefulness, you purpose to live a single life." "Well, yes, I think so," answered Marian, "though I have taken no vows." Sound virgin heart was hers, that had never been trifled with, never breathed upon by man's love all declarations and pro- testations of the sort reached no farther than her ear. And Thurston knew that this rich, large heart, though often wooed, was still unwon. Did the dream of attempting its con- THE MISSING BRIDE. 301 quest enter his mind ? Scarcely certainly not, to be willingly entertained there ; for however he might admire the enchanting girl, he durst not marry her. Any other young man in ths county, might now, without much opposition from his friends, hare won, if he could, the hand of Marian ; but not the heir apparently of gold-worshiping old Willcoxen. Yet Thurston was glad to know that her heart was untouched, and he longed to see once more this lovely nonpareil. The opportunity was not long in presenting itself. Marian was a regular attendant of the Protestant church at Benedict, where, before the morning service, she taught in the Sunday school and before the afternoon service, she received a class of colored children. And Thurston, who had been a very careless and desultory attendant, sometimes upon the Catholic chapel, sometimes upon the Protestant church, now became a very regular frequenter of the latter place of worship ; the object of his worship being not the Creator, but the creature ! whom, if he missed from her accustomed seat, the singing, and praying, and preaching for him lost all of its meaning, power and spirituality ! In the church-yard he sometimes tried to catch her eye and bow to her but was always completely baffled in his aspirations after a nearer communion. She was always attended from the church, and assisted into her saddle by Judge Provost, Colonel Thornton, or some other "potent, grave and reverend seig- niors," who " hedged her about with a divinity" that it was im- possible, without rudeness and intrusion, to br.eak through. The more he was baffled and perplexed, the more eager be- came his desire to cultivate her acquaintance. Had his course been clear to woo her for his wife it would have been easy to ask permission of Edith to visit her at her house ; but such Was not the case and Thurston, tampering with his own inte- grity of purpose, rather wished that this much coveted acquaint- ance should be incidental, and their interviews sseem occi- dental, so that he should not commit himself, or in any way lead her to form expectations which he had no surety of being 302 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, able to meet. How long this cool and cautious foresight mighi avail him, if once he were brought in close companionship with Marian, remains to be seen. It happened one Sunday after- noon in October, that he saw Marian take leave of her vener- able escort, Colonel Thornton, at the church-yard gate, and gayly and alone turn into the forest road that led to her own home. He immediately threw himself into his saddle and followed her, with the assumed air of an indifferent gentleman pursuing his own path. He overtook her near one of those gates that frequently intersect the road. Bowing, he passed her, opened the gate and held it open for her passage. Marian smiled, and nodded with a pleasant, " Good afternoon, Mr. Willcoxen," as she went through. Thurston closed the gate and rode on after her. *' This is glorious weather, Miss Mayfield." " Glorious, indeed !" replied Marian, turning her eyes from the gorgeous coloring of the autumn woods to the western sky, " where the rich sunset burned." " And the country, too, is perfectly beautiful at this season. I never could sympathize with the poets who call autumnal days 'the melancholy days the saddest of the year.'" "Nor I," said Marian ; "for to me, autumn, with its reful- gent skies and gorgeous woods and rich harvest and its pros- pect of Christmas cheer and wintry repose has ever seemed a gay and festive season. The year's great work is done, the harvest is gathered, enjoyment is present, and repose at hand." "In the w.orld of society," said Thurston, " it is in the even ing, after the labor or the business of the day is over, that the gayest scenes of festivity occur, just preceding the repose of sleep. So I receive your thought of the autumn the evening of the year, preceding the rest of winter. Nature's year'a work is done she puts on her most gorgeous robes, and holds a festival before she sinks to her winter's sleep." Marian smiled brightly upon him. " Yes ! my meaning, I believe, only more pointedly expressed." That smile 1 that smile ! It lightened through all his natura THE MISSING BRIDE. 303 with electric, life-giving, spirit-realizing power elevating and inspiring his whole being his face, too, was radiant with life as he answered the maiden's smile. But something in his eyes caused Marian's glances to fall, and the rosy clouds to roll up over her cheeks and brow. Then Thurston governed his countenance let no ardent ol admiring glance escape, and when he spoke again, his manuef and words were more deferential. " We spoke of the world of nature, Miss Mayfield, but how is it with the world of man ? To many, nay, to most of -tha human race, autumn is the herald of a season, not of festivity and repose, but of continued labor, and increased want and privation and suffering." " That is because society is not in harmony with nature man has wandered as far from nature as from God," said Marian. " And as much needs a Saviour to lead him back to the one as to the other," replied Thurston. " You know that you feel it," said Marian, turning upon him one of her soul-thrilling glances. Thurston trembled with delicious pleasure through all his frame, but guarding his eyes, lest again they should frighten off her inspiring glances, he answered, fervently, " I know and feel it most profoundly." And Thurston thought he spoke the very truth, though in sober fact he had never thought or felt anything about the sub- ject until now that Marian, his inspirer, poured her life-giving spirit into his soul. She spoke again, earnestly, ardently. " You know and feel it most profoundly ! That deep know ledge and that deep feeling, is the chrism oil that has anointed you a messenger and a laborer in the cause of humanity. ' Called and chosen,' be thou also faithful. There are many in- spired, many anointed, but few are faithful 1" " Thou, then, art the high priestess that hast poured the con- secrated oil on my head. I will be faithful I" S04 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, He spoke with such sudden enthusiasm, such abandon, that it had the effect of bringing Marian back to the moderation and retenue of her usual manner. He saw it in the changed expression of her countenance and what light or shade of feel- ing passed over that beautiful face unmarked of him ? When he spoke again it was composedly. " You speak as the preachers and teachers preach and teach in general terms ; be explicit ; what would you have me to do, Miss Mayfield ? Only indicate my work, and tell me how to set about the accomplishment of it, and never knight served liege lady as I will serve you !" Marian smiled. " Nay, women can more readily set tasks to men, than in- Btruct them in the execution of the work. Yet, it seems to me that I can at least point out the scene of your labors " " And that is" "Here!" 11 Here !" " Aye, here, in your native place. No spot needs y \i so much as this, to which you were given." " Pardon me, Miss Mayfield," he said, smiling in his turn, " but this place is so effete, so dead, so hopeless !" " Do you find it so ? Why should that be ? The earth here, as elsewhere, looks to-day as young, as fresb, and as vigorous as if just turned from the hand of its Creator finished, perfect. And, in truth, every day is a new creation !" " Yes ! in the world of nature thou glorious child of nature ! but in the world of man, as I asked before, how is it in the world of man ? groveling, weariness, sloth, torpor! Hopeless materials to work upon 1" " Yet, in the world of man, here, as elsewhere, there is an ever-springing fountain of new life and promise, and an ever new day of creation it is in childhood and youth, to whom the earth is all alive as upon the morning of the divine Dirth, who are ever susceptible to new inspirations and new truths. Children, at least, are alive and impressible, and the children THE MISSING BRIDE. 305 of this generation, remember, will be the law-givers of the next. I would have all reformers and philanthropists, while preaching to grown people, not to forget the children, bat to bring their truths to bear upon them as the seed of promise." Marian ceased, and Thurston remained in thought for a few miiiites; then he said, " I confess that, when I have dreamed of a useful and honor- able career, the scene of my visions has not ever been this obscure county." " You dreamed, perhaps, of acting in some of the world's great thoroughfares?" " Yes." " And why ? Our Divine Master commenced his labors, not among the great nations of the earth, but in His birth-place, an obscure province. The Great Messiah appeared not at Rome at that day the great nucleus of the world's life and business but in remote, effete, deadened Galilee. His humble fol- lower of to-day need not go to Washington, or New- York, to London, or Paris, or upon any of the world's great platforms. Let him light his lamp in his native place for the people among whom he was born to whom he was sent and, if the light be the true light, its rays will spread never doubt it." Thurston smiled again ; a curious, doubtful sort of smile, which, had Marian seen it, would not have inspired her with confidence. " So," he said, " the scene of my labor being fixed, now for the manner of it." " Oh I" said Marian, laughing, and parodying the words of *ortia, ' I could easier teach twenty what were good to be )ne, than show one of the twenty how to follow my own teach- ig.' But, first, I think you should endeavor to purify and levate the tone of thought and feeling in the community." " Oh ! in this way : men here, as elsewhere, have brains and hearts, intelligence and loves, apathetic as they are. Seek to stimulate and quicken those dormant faculties act upon their 19 306 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, intellects and their affections act upon their passions, if neces- sary, for even they were given for good purposes, though BO cften turned to evil ones." " Again how ?" " How? Oh! you must make yourself a position from which to influence them, I do not know that I can advise you how but you will find a way! As were /a man, /should !" "Being a woman, you have done wonders." " For a woman," said Marian, with a glance full of archness ar d merriment. " No, no, for any one, man or woman. But your method, Marian ? I beg your pardon, Miss Mayfield," he added, with a blush of ingenuous embarrassment. "Nay, now," said the frank girl, "do call me Marian if that name springs more readily to your lips than the other. Almost all persons call me Marian, and I like it." A rush of pleasure thrilled all through his veins -he gave her words a meaning and a value for himself, that they did not certainly possess ; he forgot that the grace extended to him was extended to all nay, that she had even said as much in the very words that gave it. He answered, " And if I do, fairest Marian, shall I too, heai my own Chris- tian name in music from your lips ?" " Oh ! I do not know," said the beautiful girl, laughing and blushing, " if it ever comes naturally, perhaps, certainly not now. Why, the venerable Colonel Thornton calls me ' Marian,' but it never comes to me to call him 'John !' " Thurston's rapture suddenly fell to zero. He rode on it silence. " Come," said Marian, gayly, "let us return to what we were talking of you were inquiring " " What your method your system of action has bee^i, in gaining and wielding an influence tnat has resulted in so much good, Miss Mayfield ?" He would not now call her " Marian," he would noc accept that privilege when shared by Colonel Thornton, 01 any Hhe" man alive. THE MISSING BEIDE. 307 " My method my system ? I had nont," said Marian, "but the history of what has been done is briefly this : The evils of your community are perhaps much more apparent in a, stranger, espeuially to a European coming here with exaggerated ideas of what the ' model republic ' is, or ought to be, than to a native resident. And, therefore, I confess that I was astonished, shocked, to find in any part of democratic America, a preva- lence and tyranny of rank so absolute and offensive as that which exists here greater, I take it upon me to say, than can be found in any part of England. No less was I grieved and disappointed to find a class of poor white people, living in a semi-barbarous state, in mean and miserable huts, no better than wigwams, supporting themselves by hunting, fishing, thiev- ing, and working a little in harvest time ; so ignorant as to be unable to read, and so degraded as to be despised and con- temned even by the negro slaves. Their condition touched my heart, and weighed upon my mind. I spoke of it when, and where, and how, and to whom, the Spirit dictated. I obeyed my inspirations, nothing more ! My daily life brought me into close and favorable relations with the country people. I often, when I least expected it, found myself in the position of nurse, friend, sympathiser, and even counsellor. What I had to say was spoken in homes where I had been useful, and so earned a hearing, or by the sick beds of convalescents, whom I had nursed back to life. And so, my words were listened to with great kindness and indulgence, and, after much perseverance on my part, with effect." " I do not wonder, Miss Mayfield, at your power over minda and hearts." They had now reached the verge of tl e forest, and came out into the open country that lay between that and the coast. And here their roads naturally separated Old Field Cottage standing about a quarter of a mile up, and Dell-Delight four or five miles down the bay. And here Marian gayly bade Mm good evening, and turned her horse's head 308 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, Thurston hesitated he wished to ask permission to attend her home, but durst not ; he returned her parting salutaliou with a smile and a deep bow, and passed on his way. Marian, in a few minutes, reached Old Field Cottage, where Mrs. Shields and Miriam were waiting tea, and they noticed the new life in Marian's countenance, that flushed her cheeks with a higher crimson, and seemed to fill out and lift with light her wide and snowy eyelids. And an hour's slow ride brought Thurston to Dell-Delight. That evening he had little patience with his miserly grand- father's " poor Richard " prosing, or with hapless Fanny'a snatches of song and poesy until, " You're in love !" said the latter, suddenly ceasing her play, and coming and peering in his face. " Yes," he said, blushing with consciousness, " I am in love with you, belle Fannie, ' will you live with me and be my love ?' " " Nay," said the maniac, breaking into song " My heart is in the dark grave, My heart is not here My heart is in the damp grave, Interred with my dear!" He wished to escape ; to get away from all company, to lay his head upon his pillow in the darkness of his own chamber, where, with the world shut out, he might live over again in memory, the scene just passed with Marian ; and in imagina- tion, many, many charming scenes of their future lives. I am afraid that night not many thoughts were given to the cause of humanity at large. A restless, passion-troubled, half blissful, half painful night he passed. Her eyes 1 her smile ! every timp they rose before his mind's eye, thrilled him as intensely as at first. He arose on Monday morning unrefreshcd, devising ways and means by which he might see Marian during the day. No bet- ter way occurred to him, than to go into the woods, bag a brace of par^idges or rabbits, carry them past Old Field Cottage THE MISSING BRIDE. 309 and drop in, impromptu-like, and make a present of the game to Edith, with the chance of being invited to breakfast. Forthwith he put this plan in execution. But though he stayed and stayed and breakfast was pre- pared and eaten, and the service cleared away and his excuse for staying ceased, and his continued presence seemed like intru- sion, still the object of his visit was not obtained beautiful Marian did not appear. ' I hope Miss Mayfield is quite well," he said, at iast, as re- luc.antly he arose to go. "Oh, yes, quite well, Marian is never otherwise, but she went last night to sit up with a sick neighbor, and I scarcely expect to see her home to-day." This was a heart-sickening disappointment especially as ho felt that this game manoeuvre could not be resorted to again its air of inddentalily would thus be lost. And he knew that Old Field Cottage was a place at once so well known, and so little frequented, that his visits there, upon any pretext, would, in that gossipping neighborhood, occasion remarks and specu- lations that would assuredly be carried to the knowledge of his >alous, watchful, argus-eyed grandfather, and be likely not >nly to interfere with even his accidental interviews with the beautiful, penniless girl, but also very seriously with his future prospects. He bade adieu to Edith, with an anxious heart and a busy brain, all alive with eagerness to contrive accidental meetings with Marian. But though fertile in expedients, he was not fortunate in re- sults. Tt was in vain that he frequented B and C , and the roads between those villages and Old Field Cottage. He never, by any chance, caught sight of Marian. And so, in fruitless and disheartening endeavor, the week passed away. However he was reasonably sure of seeing her at church, on Sunday ; and so, for the first time in his life, he hailed the ap- proaching Sabbath v'th joy I 310 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, CHAPTER XXIV LOVE. " All thoughts, all passions, ail delights, Whatever stir this mortal frame Are but the ministers of love, And feed his sacred flame." Coleridge. THURSTON WILLCOXEN'S usual road from Dell-Delight to the village church, brought him nowhere within miles of Marian Mayfield's forest path from Old Field Cottage to the same point. But upon this particular Sunday, Thurston chose to make an early start from home, and ride full five miles up the shore to the cross roads, on the edge of the forest, where he had parted from Marian the Sabbath previous. He reached the spot while the early autumnal frost yet embossed the earth and the trees with pearls and the latest lingering summer birds twittered their morning carols. It was but nine o'clock when he entered the forest it was but an hour's ride to church, and he fully believed himself to be a half or three-quarters of an hour in advance of the young girl Therefore he rode slowly up and down the forest path, frequently turning upon his course, until about thirty minutes had passed. Then he began to grow vigilant in eye and ear to catch the sight or sound of her distant approach. But nothing was heard save the twitter of the robins, the gurgle of low rills, the rustle of dried leaves driven by the breeze, o the fali of a solitary nut as it dropped to the ground, besides tne lonely step of his own steed. And he might have paced to and fro for a whole day, for many days, and heard no other sound but these, jr the wind and the rain so lonely was this forest walk. Three quarters of an hour passed, and he began to grow very impatient, and wonder v.6 her non-appearance, ard the 'cage* THE MISSING BRIDE. 311 tne delayed appearing, the surer he grew of seeing her the very next instant it must be so, for Marian was never absent from church, and never late in attendance, and she never went by any other road than this therefore, of course, she must now sud- denly come in sight. She came not, however. And vexed and sick at heart with frequent disappointments, Thurston galloped back on his road quite to the verge of the forest, and looked upon the country and the heaving sea, now all glorious in the morning light, and his eye roved for miles up and down the coast, but no human being or even beast of burden was in sight upon the lonely scene. The only sign of human habitation, in fact, was "the smoke that so gracefully curled" from the grove of trees that surrounded- Old Field Cottage in the far distance. Half-past ten o'clock ! He now knew that Marian would not come. What could be the reason ? Was she sick ? No ! Ma- rian was never sick ! Suddenly it occurred to him that she must have stayed the whole week at the house of the neighbor whom she went to nurse. That would also account for his missing her all the week. And doubtless from that neighbor's house she had gone to church by another road. No sooner had this explanation of her non-appearance occurred to him than he turned and spurred on his horse towards the church, hoping to see her there. He knew that he should be very late, but that would be nothing, if only he could see that one longed-for face. He galloped on at the top of his speed and reached the vil- lage, and entered the church just before the preacher took his text. He did not hear the text his whole attention was fixed upon Marian. Yes! there she sat! With her beautiful blooming face turned up towards the preacher, in devout attention and seeming unconsciousness of the presence of another soul in the church T^e sermon oroceeded, and n t one moment did her atten- 312 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OK, tion wander, and not one word of the discourse did Thurston hear, his eyes, his thoughts being completely occupied by the beautiful object of his love. The sermon came to an end the closing prayer, the hymn and the benediction followed, and the congregation began to disperse, nnd pour down the aisles. MariaL was taken up and whirled away from him in the crowd. He could not, without rudeness, elbow his way among a mass made up so largely of women and children, and so he had to wait his time and follow on slowly in the rear. He got out and reached the open churchyard and the fresh air. But then he had the mortification of seeing Marian placed in her saddle by a very handsome young man, who instantly threw himself into another s.addle, and rode on to attend her. Devouring his own heart in chagrin, Thurston stood looking after them as they rode on towards the forest path ; one minute swearing mentally that he did not care a cent to make a third in such a party, and the next feeling the dog-in-the-manger im- pulse, since he himself could not woo, to mar the wooing of another. But then how could he, without worse than Vandalic barbarism, force himself into their company? Well, at \auy rate, he would, he resolved, ride down that path, and bow to them as he passed. He could tell, by their faces, he thought, what the meaning of the escort might be. That he had a right to do a right that could be exercised with perfect propriety. No sooner thought of than done. He sprung into his saddle and galloped after them. He overtook them a short distance in the forest. One keen glance ,n passing he shot into their faces; the countenance of the young man was flushed, eager, impassionate, and bent towards Marian. The exrvession of the young girl was blushing, down- cast, distressed, embarrassed. Those mutual looks set Thurs- ton's blood boiling with jealousy. He could have hurled his rival from the saddle, and trampled him under foot 1 It was with the greatest difficulty that he could restrain his passiou THE MISSING BRIDE. 313 and govern himself. But he did so effectually, bowing haugh- tily as he passed them. But Marian's voice recalled him. " Mr. Willcoxen." He turned around and looked. Marian's face was full of blushing embarrassment and bashful or.treaty her companion's was clouded with disappointment and vexation. Thurston rode back. "Well, Miss Mayfield, I am at your orders." " I have a number of things to say to you, Mr. Willcoxen, and a number of questions to ask. But first, you are acquainted with Mr. Barnwell?" "Yes," bowing coldly. "Ride neat, then." Thurston now smiled, and went on the right side of Marian, where he continued to ride, in silence, waiting for the young girl to speak. But Marian either had forgotten what she wished to say, or else was taking a long time to arrange it. They rode on in moody silence until they reached a gate, which Thurston opened for Marian to pass through. Here Mr. Barnwell suddenly stopped, lifted his hat, and say- ing, gloomily and angrily, that he feared he had trespassed tot long upon Miss Mayfield's society and indulgence, begged leav^ to apologize for his intrusion, and to wish her a very good morning. And so saying, he bowed, turned, and rode back to the village. When they were left alone, the embarrassment on either side increased. " You were very early at church to-day, Miss Mayfield," said Thurston, by way of saying something. '"Yes," smiled Marian, "but I could not well be otherwise than early, since I was there from eight o'clock in the morning." " So soon !" " You know or perhaps you do not know that I have a ciass in the Sunday school." 314 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, " Idiot that I was to forget that !" thought Thurston, as th,, sudden light broke on him, showing that while he was cooling his feet and warming his temper by pacing up and down St. Mary's forest, in expectation of seeing her, she was already safely housed with her class in the Sunday school. No matter 1 He secretly swore to be more alert on the next Sabbath morning. " But I cannot compliment you upon the same ground, Mr. Willcoxen," said Marian, both gravely and sweetly; "you were late at Divine service." A thrill of delight electrified Thurston's nerves. He was " late" she had noticed it she, whose attention seldom wan- dered from her prayer-book or her minister's face she had no- ticed his absence she had waited for his appearance, perhaps impatiently, longingly as he had waited for her in the woods. So with love's sophistry he reasoned as he heard her words, and an impetuous tide of emotion rushed through all his veins a,nd flushed his face ! Forgetting his discreet caution, forget- ting that their meetings were to seem incidental or not caring to use that subterfuge with her alone losing his usual self- possession, he pressed towards her, exclaiming, passionately, and half reproachfully, " Marian, I have much to say to you I have lived over many times the scene of last Sabbath evening. I have sought you everywhere, during the whole week, with no other result than heart-sickening disappointment from day to day ! Marian, why did you inspire and then avoid me ?" Surprised at his words, and confused by his manner, Marian averted her eyes, as a vivid blush rose mantling cheek and brow. " I have offended you," said the young man, sorrowfully. " No," said the maiden, " only astonished me." " Wherefore, Marian ? wherefore ? That I should have sought you again with my whole heart and soul in the search ?" he asked earnestly, ardently pressing towards her. Her spirited little horse shied angrily, throwing up its head. She became nore an 1 more confused and embarrassed. Her face was still averted and the blush burned like fire on her cheek. THE MISSING BRIDE. 315 " Marian," he said, dropping his voice to the very depths of tenderness; "Marian, gi\ T e me your hand, in token of forgive- ness. I know that I have been rash and presumptuous ; that I have no right so suddenly to speak of feelings that have not, however, arisen suddenly, fairest girl, but have had possession of my whole nature, heart, soul and spirit, for months past that have filled and fired and consumed me like a fever or a madness I Forgive me, Marian ; I will control myself I will not shock or wound you again give me your hand in token V)f pardon, and tell me you will not avoid me." With her face still averted, and her cheek still burning, the maiden held out her hand, saying softly, "I was not offended, as I told you before, only surprised that you should have imagined I had avoided you ; when there was no earthly reason to do so, that I know of." He carried her hand respectfully to his lips. He felt the un- intentional reproach of her candor and honesty. He covered his feelings of compunction by saying, 'Strange most strange, that I could not find you, when I sought you so eagerly." " I was at home all the week," said Marian, " except OD Monday." " I called at Old Field Cottage upon that very day, unfortu - nately." " So Edith told me, but she did not tell me that the visit was to me she thought your coming partly accidental." " Well," said Thurston, as a blush of -honest shame mantled his brow "it was partly so I had been out shooting, and passing close to Old Field Cottage, saw Mrs. Shields at the door thought my morning's spoils might not be unacceptable, wad tired and hungry, accepted her invitation to breakfast. Still, Marian, still the strongest feeling in my heart on entering, was the hope of seeing you. The consequent disappointment was very grievous to be borne, followed as it was by daily and heart-sickening failures. Marian ?" he suddenly said, changing his manner and leaning towards her. 316 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, Her skittish little horse shied again. She withdrew her hand and turned away her head, though without anger. " Let us speak," she said, " of the subject we were discussing last Sabbath evening." "As you will, fairest Marian; I have already taken sorno steps towards entering upon your service, my liege lady," he answered, with a manner perfectly respectful, but so pointed that the maiden, dropping her eyes, said " Not my humble service, good sir, but the higher one of you! fellow citizens." There was a pause. "You do not ask me, Marian, what these first steps have been. You are perhaps no longer interested in them." "It is not considered polite to ask questions," said Marian, archly; " nevertheless, I am waiting anxiously to hear." " It is not much that I have accomplished. When one feels within oneself, inspirations and energies capable of accomplish- ing great things, it is disheartening to see what poor tools wo have to work with, and what poor materials to operate upon with what small, slow steps we approach our object." " The river is filled from small springs, and the mountain grows by accretion. All reforms have started with one man, and its victories have been single converts, few and far between." How difficult to gaze upon the beautiful, eloquent face, the clear, blue eye, soft with feeling and radiant with light, the roseate cheek and sunny, rippling hair, the glowing lips, smiling and speaking ; and not bow down before her beauty ; and not give utterance to the passion, throbbing, burning in his bosom I How hard to keep down the rising heart ! How hard to ride and talk of social ethics when he only wished to fold that glowing form to his bosom ! He did not care a farthing for her young inspired wisdom ; he adored her enchant- ing beauty, not thinking that that beauty owed its greatest fascination to the informing spirit within. He grew impatient of their mode of travelling those shying horses thr d^estable beasts kept them so far apart. Ho THE MISSING BEIDE. 317 Fished that the fair girl and himself had been only walking, or sitting down somewhere on some bank or fallen tree. He longed to throw himself at her feet, to clasp her hands, to pour out before her the flood of passion that was swelling in hia bosom ! To entreat her to forget her wisdom, and her philoso- phy, and influence, and to remember that she was a beautiful girl, the most charming and the most beloved in the world, and to beseech her to hear him, to bless him, to let him lead her into the Eden of love. Gazing on her enchanting beauty, ho was, in imagination, far away in that Eden already. She recalled him, her calm, sweet voice coming coolly across all that heat and turbulence of passion and' imagination. " You have not yet told me, Mr. Willcoxen, of the nature of the steps you have taken towards a commencement." Thurston frowned and smiled slightly as he said, " They are so trifling, so inefficient, that I hesitate to tell you." " They may seem trifling, but of their efficiency we must take time to judge." " Well, you shall hear, and then you shall judge," said Thurston, guarding his offending glances as well as he could. " I have offered myself to the Board of Directors to give a free course of lectures at C Academy. A lecture is to be deliv- ered every Monday evening, and the lecture room to be thrown open to the public. The course will embrace a review of history, political economy, social philosophy, education, the progress of society, and lastly a comparative view of the present state of civilized nations." " Excellent !" exclaimed Marian, smiling upon him. " And you call this trivial ? Pray, sir, were you thinking of doing something superhuman, that you depreciate this ?" Thurston gayly answered her smile, and then said, " I have sketched out quite a wide field of labor, which will take me the whole winter to cover ; but my doubt is, whether I can do anything like justice to the subjects, or whether, if I do, I shall find any sort of favor with my audience, or any sor* of goc 1 fruit* will come of the seed thus sown." 318 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, " ' Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we might attain, by fearing the attempt,'" quoted Marian. Then she added, " Your plan is very good your course, if you do it justice, will be a complete course of instruction and enlighten- *nent for these people ; and under one or another of your heads, you can speak any new thought, teach any new truth, that you please to utter, or they need to hear. But when do these lectures begin ? " To-morrow evening the introductory discourse, a retrospect of history, is to be delivered. If you had been anywhere else than shut up in Old Field Cottage, you would have seen the affair announced. And yet, fair inspirer ! so debarred have I been from your presence, and so anxious have I felt to find you, that not one preparatory note have I made for that lecture to be given to-morrow." " No matter," said Marian, "if you have thought and felt a great deal in your life if you have a warm heart and an active brain, 'it will be given you in that hour what to say.'" " Be you only there, beautiful Marian be you only there before me, with your eloquent face, that I may draw strength and fire from those inspiring eyes, and I shall not fail. I shall be, at best, your medium, Marian, and if your spirit speaks by my lips, I shall not fail to speak 'as man never spake,' save one !" said Thurston, with enthusiasm, pressing towards her. But her willful and spirited pony threw up its elegant little head, and shying aside, trotted on before. Marian's face, too, was averted, and her cheeks dyed with blushes, and her eyes fixed upon the path before her. Thurston did not curse the wanton little beastie, any more than he did its mistress ; but he mentally swore that wooing a maiden on horseback, was to a lover the most exasperating manner of courtship on earth. "I wish to Heaven she had to walk to and from church," was his charitable aspiration as he overtook her. Marian saw the chagrin of his countenance ; and she sa'd though with her flushed cheek <*till averted. THE MISSING BEIDE. 319 '' I shall not fail to be present at your lecture ; not certainly in the vain hope of being able to give you countenance, but for the pleasure it will give me to hear you." "Not give me countenance!" he exclaimed, vehemently; 44 T tell you, fair Marian, that your clear eyes, for me, radiate inspiration, power." " Pray, do not say such things to me," said the maiden, veiling her eyes with their pure white lids ; " believe me, flattery is always most distasteful from one whom we wish to esteem." " Flattery ! Good Heaven, Marian ! I cannot flatter you ! "Words are too worn and weak, to express the truth of what you seem to me, much less to exceed it." "Our roads separate here," said the young girl, as at that moment they emerged from the forest into the open country, that stretched to the bay in the distance. " And must we part here, fair one ?" " I believe so, as our homes lie in opposite directions." " Heaven grant that it may not long be so!" fervently ejacu- lated the young gentleman. " Good day to you, Mr. Willcoxen," said the maiden, turning her pony's head. " Stay, fairest Marian, one moment!" She paused and looked around, while her little pony showed his disapprobation by pawing the ground, and champing the bi*-, and shaking and tossing his willful little head. " Shall we not meet again this week ?" he entreated. "I shall be at the lecture, to-morrow evening." " Heaven speed the hours ! And after that, Marian ?" " Sufficient unto the day, is the evil thereof?" she said softly smiling and olushing, and veiling her eyes. " Nay, now, do not tantalize me ; how shall I see you this week as often as I wish to do so ?" he pleaded, attempting to take her hand, a freedom that her capricious little pony would in nowise permit. " Tell me, fairest tell me how, and where, shall 1 be able to find you this week ?" "At home," said the young girl, with a slight surprise in he! 320 MIRIAM, THE AVENGER; OR, tone ; " Edith will be glad to see her old school-mate, at the cottage." " And you, dearest Marian ?" " I shall be very happy to see, and converse with one who has the heart to labor earnestly and gratuitously, in the cause of education and reform ;" said the maiden, in a low, soft voice. " Thank you, fairest and dearest ; I shall find my way to Old Fields." " Once more good day, Mr. Willcoxen," she said turning once again to ride homeward. " ' Good day' good night, say rather for my day star is about to set," said Thurston, gazing after her. Then he called "Miss May field!" She looked back. " Subjugate the willfulness of that wicked little beastie of yours." Marian laughed. " Good-bye, Mr. Willcoxen." " Good-bye, till to-morrow, most beautiful Marian !" said Thurston, turning reluctuantly down the road that led to Dell- Delight, and thinking that all "delight" lay in the opposite direction. Marian rode ou her countenance radiant with a new in- spiring joy that seemed to elevate it into glorious supernal beauty. She rode on the celestial smile still shining in her eyes, soon reached Old Field Cottage, where the neat table was set for dinner and Edith was awaiting her. " Why, Marian," said Edith, as the blooming girl took her place at the table, " I am not used to paying compliments, but really you must have received a baptism of beauty ! living beauty ! I never saw a face so radiant !" In the meanwhile Thurston quickened his horse's steps, and in half an hour reached Dell-Delight in good time for the miser's dinner. "Humph! you're getting to be some sort of a saint here, THE MISSING BRIDE. 321 ateiy, aren't you, young man ? Quite regular in your attend- ance upon Divine Worship. Now holiness don't run in out family!" " He's in love !" said Fanny. " ' From the glance of her eye Shun danger and fly, For fatal's the glance of Kate Kearney.' " "Kate Kearney'? Who is she? Who is' she!" quicklj questioned the little old man, piercing his keen littie black eyes like needles into the eyes of the youth. " Some Irish beggar, whose blowzy face you have fallen in love with ? Take care, my young ape ! You know the terms, and you know me ! I give no gold to gild love in a cottage ! No, no ! No, no ! And you ought to know what love in a cottage means just hereabouts a low hut, with a mud floor, clay and pitch walls, a leaking roof, a smoky hearth and nothing to cook on it, a wife starved into a lingering consumption, and ten children with bare legs, matted hair and dirty faces who don't starve because it is a great deal more natural to steal !" Thurston shuddered then shook off the creepy feeling, and laughing, said, " Believe me, sir, you may be at ease upon my account. I have no more taste for love in a cottage than you have !" " Don't believe him ! He's in love !" said Fanny, exultingly. "' Lore rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below and saints above, For love is heaven, and heaven is love !' " " Peace, you singing fool ! I'll not be deceived, my young gentleman I BSK you again, who is Catherine Kearney, and wnerc does she live ?" " ' Oh. did you ne'er meet this Kate Kearneyl She lives on the banks of Killarny. Beware of her gmile for many a wile Lies hid in the smile of Kate Kearnayl'" 20 322 MIRIAM, THE A V E N O T! 77 ; O T? . , " SILENCE, Fanny, I say. Now, sir, will you answer mj question, Mr. Jackanapes?" Thurston laughed. " She has just told you, sir ! The lady was a celebrated Irish beauty, who lived some years ago upon the shores of the lak of Killarny, and whom some rhyming fellow has made im mortal." "Humph! no one can tell when that singing idiot is chant ing truth or falsehood." "Pray, sir, leave poor Fanny in peace don't scold her." " Don't believe him 1 He's in love," said Fanny. " ' In peace love tunes the shepherd's reed, In war he mounts the warrior's steed, In halls in gay attire is seen, In hamlets dances on the green.' " " Aye I I shouldn't wonder the least if there was a petticoat in the case. Well 1 I have no objection, if it be heavily em- bossed with gold bullion! You know my conditions, Sir Dandy ! She must be a six-figured heiress !" "' And what 5s your fortune, my pretty maid? And what is your fortune, my pretty maid f ' My face is my fortune, sir,' she said, ' My face is my fortune, sir,' she said !" sung Fanny, archly nodding her head, and changing her face and her tone to suit the two voices. "Peace, idiot, I say! Eh! now, Thurston? You under- stand ? A six-figured fortune ! Though, where you are to find such an heiress. I don't know, unless you could take the iittle ape, Jacquelina, from Nace Grimshaw! Eh! you handsome dog ?" THE MISSING BRIDE. 320 CHAPTER XXT. FOREST WALKS. " The still green places where they met The moonlit branches dewy wet, The greeting and the parting word, The smile, the embrace, the tone that mad* An Eden of the forest shade." Whittier. T**E next evening the lecture-room at the academy wau filled at a very early hour, by a crowd the greater part of which, alas ! were drawn thither, not so much from the desire of intel- lectual gratification, as from the idleness and vain curiosity thai would have led them to prefer a traveling circus as -an evening entertainment, had such a thing stopped at their village. Marian was present, under the care of Colonel Thornton. She was very simply dressed, as usual, and seated near the cen- tre of the assembly where, nevertheless, her beauty shone, faJr as the moon from the clouds. And the young lecturer, to whom her clear eyes were often raised in hope and expectancy ? Thurston Willcdxen was one upon whom Nature had lavished all her rarest gifts of mental and personal beauty and grace. And never had he appeared so fascinating as this evening, when commencing his discourse iu a quiet, modest manner, and gradually warming with his subject, his fine face grew radiant with spirit-light, and eloquence glowed like fire on his lips. Many a young maiden's heart throbbed under that soul-lit eye and soul-thrilling tone. And Marian, his own beloved, recognized a heart and brain and spirit, higher, greater than her own recognized them without jealousy, without a single wish to rival or excel them recog- nized them with a woman's fervent, ~