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 PEACE: 
 
 OR 
 
 THE STOLEN WILL! 
 
 n American ;N0ocl. 
 
 BY 
 
 MARY W. JANVRIN. 
 
 'Tis to create, and iu creating live 
 A being more intense, that we endow 
 With form our funcy, gaining as we give 
 The )if we image, even as I do now. 
 What am I? Nothing: but not so art than, 
 .V.i// nf my thought .' 
 
 BYROS 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 K. O. LIBBY AND COMPANY. 
 
 .1858.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857. by 
 
 JAMES FRENCH AND COMPANY, 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY 
 W . F . D K A I> E It , A X 1) U V K K .
 
 TO 
 
 A MEMORY AND A NAME 
 2TJ)e Sfster 
 
 MISSED ON EARTH, 
 
 WHENCE THE ANGELS BECKONED HER FROM MY SIDE AS WE CLIMBED 
 
 GIRLHOOD'S SUNNY UPLAND SLOPES TOGETHER, 
 
 BUT SAFELY HOUSED IN HEAVEN, 
 
 IN WHOSE SERENER CLIME I HOPE TO WALK BESIDE HER YET AGAIN, 
 
 
 
 I DEDICATE THIS OFFSPRING, 
 
 BORN OF THOUGHT AND IMAGINATION, 
 
 CHRISTENED "PEACE." 
 
 2068037
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER. 
 
 I. Ridge Farm. The Snow Storm. The Wanderer, 
 
 II. Mary Halpine, . 
 
 III. Eeuben and Patience, 
 
 IV. The World's Code of Morals, .... 
 V. Death for Life, 
 
 VI. An Heiress's Bridal, 
 
 VII. The Bound Boy, 
 
 VIII. Life at Ridge Farm, 
 
 IX. The Taper Burns Out, 
 
 X. The Young Student, 
 
 XL Peace at Boarding-School, 
 
 XII. The Snare, 
 
 XIII. Death and Avarice. The Stolen Will, 
 
 XIV. A Neglected Wife, 
 
 XV. The Revelation and Flight, 
 
 XVI. Diamond Cuts Diamond ..... 
 
 XVII. Student Revels. The Downward Way, . 
 
 XVIII: The Governess, ....... 
 
 XIX. Juvenile Precocities. The Little Sunbeam, 
 
 XX. Orah Rowland. Private Theatricals, . 
 
 XXI. The Ballet Girl. Mid night Marriage, 
 
 XXII. A Darkened Brain. Remorse, .... 
 
 XXIII. The Actor's Benefit Night. " Too Late ! " 
 
 XXIV. From Over Seas, 
 
 XXV. The Artist Girl, . . . . % . 
 
 1* 
 
 PAGE. 
 7 
 
 12 
 
 19 
 
 . 29 
 
 . 41 
 
 . 52 
 
 . 61 
 
 . 70 
 
 . 78 
 
 . 87 
 
 . 98 
 
 . 109 
 
 . 117 
 
 . 128 
 
 . 137 
 
 . 146 
 
 . 152 
 
 . 158 
 
 . 169 
 
 . 178 
 
 . 188 
 
 . 205 
 
 . 213 
 
 . 222 
 
 . 230 
 
 (5)
 
 6 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE. 
 
 XXVI. A Coquette Weaves her Toils, . . . .237 
 
 XXVII. The Meeting in the School-Room, . . .244 
 
 XXVIII. Review of Dramatis Personae, .... 253 
 
 XXIX. The Nest A Serpent There, .- . , . 2G2 
 
 XXX. Chip Weed's Hardships, 271 
 
 XXXI. Summer Flittings. Springdale. The House- 
 keeper's Story, 278 
 
 XXXII. The Trip Down River. A Revelation, . .287 
 
 XXXIII. The Stolen Will. Chip's Flight, . . .299 
 
 XXXIV. Fire! 307 
 
 XXXV. A Villain's Plot. Bank Robbery, . . .316 
 
 XXXVI. Heart History, . ., . . . . .323 
 
 XXXVII. The Invalid. Discomfited Parvenues. Rejected 
 
 Lovers, 341 
 
 XXXVIII. Visit to the Tombs. Father and Daughter, . 353 
 
 XXXIX. The Thunder Storm. Leafy Earle, . . .361 
 
 XL. Trial of Revere. An Unexpected Witness, . 366 
 
 XLI. The Lightning Stroke, 377 
 
 XLII. Gabrielle. Father and Son, . . . ^. 386 
 
 XLIII. Retribution, 394 
 
 XLIV. Finale, 400
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 O, open the door ! some pity show ! 
 
 Keen blows the northern wind : 
 The glen is white with the drifted snow, 
 
 And the path is hard to find. 
 
 SCOTT. 
 
 THE tall, old-fashioned clock in the corner of the long, low, 
 nicely swept kitchen had long ago told the hour of nine, the 
 evening wore late to primitive country dwellers, whose motto was 
 the time-honored " early to bed and early to rise," the logs 
 of the hickory fire had burned low, and lay smouldering on the 
 iron fire-dogs, the wind whisked down the wide-mouthed 
 chimney and flared the candle on the little round table, whirled 
 tiny clouds of white ashes all over the red brick hearth, orj now 
 and then sent a sudden tongue of red flame from out the dying 
 fire-brands, lighting up the old kitchen, the dressers with their 
 rows of polished pewter ware, the little looking-glass with 
 quaintly carven frame wreathed with evergreen and scarlet wax- 
 berries, the old-fashioned furniture, ears of interwoven " " traced 
 corn," and strings of bright red bell-peppers suspended from the 
 beamed ceiling, and then, dying into darkness, grim shadows 
 quivered over all. 
 
 (7)
 
 8 PEACE: on THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 The gray kitten had purred herself to sleep in the warmest 
 corner of the hearth ; Bruno, the great watch-dog, a veteran 
 Newfoundlander, lay with his head between his shaggy fore- 
 paws : the old clock still ticked on with its steady monotone, 
 while the evening wore later ; but yet Aunt Patience Wedge- 
 wood sat knitting, knitting, beside the little round table, for she 
 had sat up that night far beyond her usual tune to " toe off" the 
 last of a pair of yarn socks for " Brother Reuben," who dozed in 
 his arm-chair on the opposite side of the hearth. 
 
 There was a driving storm without, just such a keen, wintry 
 storm as visits open country places; heaping drifts all over the 
 meadows and fields ; drifts, white and phantom-like hi the dimmed 
 moonlight, huddled closely together like ghosts lain down to rest 
 from their midnight revels ; muffling the low stone walls and 
 straggling fences along the road-sides with fleecy blankets ; 
 hanging bridal veils over the dusky pines and feathery hemlocks, 
 and then sifting down among the under brush, leaving a white 
 tribute on twig, spray, and gray mossy rock below; whirling 
 away over long reaches of pasture, meadow-land, and brown 
 stubble field ; driving into every nook and cranny of old country 
 houses, whitening their low, brown roofs, flecking the 
 weather-beaten clapboards with patches of down, choking up 
 the wide-mouthed, moss-grown chimneys ; then, back to earth 
 again, drifting up the paths to barns and granaries, covering 
 sheds and out-houses with a roofing of purest " cararra," block- 
 ing up the low, old-fashioned farm-house doors, leaving a snowy 
 finger on every window-sill, heaping drifts all around the old 
 well-curb, and laying one long, downy ridge on the curving well- 
 sweep. Just such a storm was it which went whirling through 
 Meadow Brook that December night, and came moaning at the 
 windows of the farm-house at " the Ridge." ' 
 
 " A knock at the door ! Bless me ! who can it be, this stormy
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 9 
 
 
 night ? and so late, too ! Wake up, Reuben ! wake up ! " and 
 
 Patience started from her low, rush-bottomed rocking-chair, laid 
 down the just finished stocking, shook the sleeper's arm, as the 
 knock was faintly repeated ; then, stepping to a window which 
 commanded a view of the outer door, peered out from behind 
 the chintz curtain. 
 
 " Mercy ! if it isn't a woman ! Do open that door, quick, 
 brother ! " and, as he went into the little entry and drew the 
 wooden bar from its fastenings, Patience followed him closely, 
 with the candle in her hand. 
 
 Reuben Wedgewood opened the door; and a female form, 
 muffled in a shawl and hood, white with snow, staggered faintly 
 forward and sank upon the threshold, with a feeble moan. 
 
 " Bless us ! who can she be ? Poor creetur ! Bring her in, 
 Reuben, right here to the fire ! " and Patience hastened to 
 re-light her candle, which a sudden gust from the open door had 
 extinguished. 
 
 Lifting their strange visitor carefully, Reuben bore her into 
 the kitchen, and laid her on the old high-backed settle in the 
 chimney-place, while Patience distended her thin, withered 
 cheeks, with blowing at a coal she applied with the tongs to 
 the wick of the candle. For a few moments her efforts were 
 unsuccessful. 
 
 " Dear me ! why don't it light ? " she exclaimed. " But, 
 there ! no wonder, I'm so flustered ! Reuben, do take off her 
 hood, and rub her hands. There's some camphor in the cup- 
 board. She's in a dead faint, or frozen, may be, poor cree- 
 tur ! There, it's lit at last ! " and she placed the blazing can- 
 dle on the table, then turned toward the woman. 
 
 But in those few moments, while Reuben "Wedgewood stood 
 bending over the stranger lying unconscious on the settle, one 
 or two gleams of flame shooting up from the embers on the
 
 10 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 
 hearth, and playing over the pallid features of the face turned 
 
 toward the fire-place, lighted them up with wonderful fidelity. 
 Beautiful features were they, too, though sharpened and deadly 
 pale. The forehead low and broad : pale, blue-veined, and 
 almost transparent eye-lids, fringed with curling lashes ; a sweet 
 mouth, exquisitely curved, though the lips were slightly con- 
 tracted with an expression of suffering; such was the face, 
 framed in masses of golden hair, wet with the melted snow fast 
 dripping from her hood, upon which the farmer gazed. But 
 not only did the flickering fire-light reveal to Reuben Wedge- 
 wood a young and beautiful woman, lying unconscious before 
 him ; in that face he saw the features of one who had once been 
 dear to him as his own life, features which, meet them when, 
 or where, or under what phase he might, he could never forget, 
 for they were graven on his heart. 
 
 And then it was almost fearful to behold the agitation of that 
 strong man. He leaned against the chimney-jamb for support, 
 and grasped tremblingly at the back of a chair; and when 
 Patience turned for a moment from the unconscious woman, she 
 saw, by the tremor of his frame, and the beads of sweat on his 
 seamed forehead, that some powerful emotion shook his soul. 
 
 "Why, brother Reuben, what is the matter?", she asked. 
 " I declare, you're white as a sheet ! I do believe you're goin' 
 to faint away, too ! What is it, Reuben ? " and she grasped his 
 arm. 
 
 " Nothing, Patience ; nothing, only a touch of the palpitation, 
 that's all ! " and he pressed his hand convulsively over his 
 heart. " It is gone, now ; let us bring her to ! " he added, 
 huskily. 
 
 Patience gave him a quick, sharp gaze ; then, apparently sat- 
 isfied, bringing camphor and hartshorn from the closet, set about 
 the restoration. " La, what little, delicate hands ! " she ex-
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 11 
 
 claimed, chafing them between her own, rough and calloused 
 with household toil. " Covered with fine rings, too ! Most 
 likely, Reuben, she's some rich lady, lost her way, maybe. Poor 
 creetur ! she oughtn't to be out such a bitter night. Why, she's 
 almost gone ! I can't bring her to a grain ! Here, Reuben, 
 jest carry her into the bed-room, while I get blankets and hot 
 water. I'm most afeard she's dyin', she looks so kinder white 
 like ! " 
 
 Patience took the candle and preceded Reuben across the 
 floor to the bed-room, which adjoined the kitchen as is usual in 
 old-fashioned farm-houses, where, upon a broad hearth, smoul- 
 dered the embers of a wood fire, kindled early in the evening. 
 
 " How lucky I made a fire here to-night ! it is nice and 
 warm ; and here is a hot brick for her feet ! There, lay her 
 down, brother; she's comin' to a little, I b'lieve. Guess it's 
 notliin' more'n a faint, after all ! " 
 
 It was a plump, downy, inviting bed, with spotless white pil- 
 lows, and a blue and white woven woollen counterpane, over 
 which the linen sheet with its broad hem was turned evenly, 
 whereon Reuben "VVedgewood placed his slight burden, tenderly 
 as he would have lain down a child ; and then he returned to 
 the kitchen and sat down on the end of the settle, where her 
 hood still lay burying his face in his hands. 
 
 Patience, meantime, wrought with gentle woman-hands in 
 the bed-room ; drew off the woman's snow-damped garments, 
 after she had partially restored her from the swoon, carefully 
 wrapped blankets about her, placed warm draughts at her feet, 
 smoothed out and bound up the long masses of wavy, golden 
 hair, and then, her good offices finished, went out into the 
 kitchen, and drew her chair close to Reuben's side.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Can this be 
 
 The young, the loved, the happy Rosalie ! 
 And might not pardon be 
 
 Also for her ? 
 
 L. E. L. 
 
 THERE was a singular expression on the spinster's face, as 
 she sat silent for a few moments ; then, Jeaning forward and 
 laying her hand on his, said, " Brother Reuben ! " 
 
 " Patience," and he raised his head, whispering hoarsely, 
 glancing toward the bed-room door, " Patience, don't you know 
 her ? " 
 
 The hand clasped tighter over his. 
 
 " Reuben, you don't mean that the poor creetur in yonder 
 room is is" but her lips could not frame into utterance a 
 name which for five years had been unspoken under that roof. 
 
 " Yes, sister," and the farmer glanced half-furtively around 
 the old kitchen, and spoke in a thick whisper, "it is her 
 Mary ! " 
 
 Patience started up. A flush crimsoned her withered cheek ; 
 an angry sparkle burned in her eye. 
 
 " You are right, Reuben ! " she said, at length. " When I 
 turned to look at her, as I come out of the bed-room, it come 
 over me like a flash. It is her ! And she has come back here, 
 a cast-away, a poor, shameless creetur ! I'd a died first, 
 Reuben ! Yes, laid down and froze to death in the snow-storm, 
 before I'd a come back to the very house where I'd made so 
 much misery ! I s'pose she knows her poor mother died of 
 
 (12)
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 13 
 
 grief ; and she'd got neither house nor home to go to when her 
 fine gentleman got tired of her, and so had the face to come 
 here. Reuben, it's shameful ! " 
 
 Patience's whole frame fairly quivered with indignation ; but 
 her auditor sat silent, his face buried in his hands. 
 
 " Reuben Wedgewood," and a hand was laid heavily on his 
 shoulder, "if you've got a particle of spirit, do be a man, 
 and don't sit there mopin' like a weak boy ! Why don't you say 
 something ! " and Patience turned, walked the floor excitedly, 
 and in her indignation quite snuffed out the candle with the old 
 iron snuffers " Yes, do be a man," she said, flinging down the 
 ctal with which she had re-lighted it, " and say something ! " 
 
 Reuben glanced up. His face was very pale, and his teeth 
 hard set. 
 
 " For God's sake, Patience, what do you want ? I wouldn't 
 turn a dog from my door, such a night as this, much less a 
 woman ! and that woman No, I can't do it ! " he added, after 
 a choking pause. " You wouldn't have me send her away ? " 
 
 "No," replied Patience, setting down the candle-stick hard on 
 the table ; " but I did hope you'd got over what happened five 
 years ago ! Of course, I'd do for Mary Halpine jest what I 
 Avould for any poor suffering human creetur who come to our 
 ruff for shelter. I thank the Lord, he didn't make me a hea- 
 then ! We'll keep her through this cold storm ; but when it's 
 over, go she must, for, Reuben, I can't look back and see how 
 she treated you, and then harbor her. But I'll jest ask her why 
 she didn't stay with her fine gentleman ; what she come among 
 honest folks for ! Oh, brother, it works me up terribly, when I 
 think it all over ! and to see how you sit and mope there in. the 
 chimney-corner ! " 
 
 The farmer looked at his sister in surprise. Patience Wedge- 
 wood, usually the kindest, most forgiving of women, his sister 
 
 2
 
 14 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Patience, whose whole life had been but a tissue of trials re- 
 ceived, and gentle submissions rendered, the "Aunt Patience" 
 of Meadow Brook, whose name had passed into a proverb as 
 symbolical of her nature, was it indeed she, standing there on 
 the hearth, manifesting such bitter, unwomanly feelings ? 
 
 But he understood it all. The best impulses of a true, tender, 
 woman heart, were stifled momentarily, in her jealous, watchful 
 love for the only being she had left on earth to cherish, her 
 brother. 
 
 And yet it was not wholly as the guardian of her brother's 
 wrongs, that Patience Wedgewood stood, that winter night, 
 beside the kitchen fire, nursing hard thoughts toward the poor 
 girl lying pale and ill in the adjoining room. There was 
 another reason, one that influences woman under every cir- 
 cumstance like this, though few there be who care to acknowledge 
 it ; for who does not know how hard it is for her to forget and 
 forgive frailty in her sister-woman? 
 
 She will' forget, or tolerate and in thus tolerating, encourage 
 error in men. It is known, world-wide, how fan* white hands 
 are extended to welcome them into society ; how she leans upon 
 the arms, and hangs upon the eloquent words, of those from 
 whom she should shrink with a blush ; and how then, straight- 
 way, if the Magdalen who, but for the fascinating tempter, to 
 whose accents she has just listened, had stood to-day as fair and 
 pure as she crosses her path, then, with a gesture of virtuous 
 scorn, she spurns her. 
 
 Unwelcome truth ! But, sister-woman, everywhere, is it not 
 so? 
 
 Votary of fashion, frivolous, vain worldling ! do you not 
 look down from your gilded height, and smile scornfully at 
 humbled, abject, though perhaps penitent beings below ? Say, 
 giddy, kind-hearted, but thoughtless girl, too happy in your own
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 15 
 
 light loves and joys, to heed the agony of broken hearts, sinking 
 into dust under their weight of shame, what word have you for 
 such ? Cold, purse-proud, immaculate, frigid lady, who kneels 
 in carpeted churches on a velvet hassock, and prays audibly 
 from a jewelled prayer-book, whose stainless purity was never 
 sullied by contact with such as sinned through excess of love, 
 when by chance the unfortunate falters across your pathway, do 
 you not draw aside your spotless robes, lest the hem of your 
 garments, even, should have been brushed in passing ? And 
 " last, not least," you who profess to be good, thoughtful, Chris- 
 tian women, in your easy (because approved] rounds of daily 
 life, at your pleasant firesides, where dwell the dear ones of 
 your home circles, at the Throne of Grace, even, anywhere, 
 eveiywhere, do you find the least corner reserved for such of 
 whom He you call your Master hath said, " Go, and sin no 
 more ? " 
 
 Aye } it is even so ! 
 
 " Alas for the rarity 
 Of Christian charity 
 Under the sun ! " 
 
 And, as Patience "Wedgewood stood there, revolving many con- 
 tending thoughts in her mind, she gradually became conscious 
 that it would be one of the hardest struggles of her life to forgive 
 Mary Halpine. 
 
 Could she? No! surely not of her own heart. But her 
 Father was opening, hi His own way, a path for that forgive- 
 ness ; a new channel, wherein the womanly tenderness of her 
 heart might flow afresh, and another love brighten and soften 
 her life. 
 
 Five minutes passed, and Patience still stood beside her 
 brother ; and there was no sound in the old kitchen but the purr 
 of the kitten on the hearth, and the voice of the clock in the dis-
 
 16 PEACE: on THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 tant corner a tick, tick, now light and uncertain, now strong 
 and sharp, now muffled and deep, like the throbbing of Reuben's 
 heart. Memories that he thought laid to sleep forever were torn 
 from their grave that night. It had been no light love he had 
 borne that fair-haired girl in yonder room ; it had been no easy 
 struggle to subdue it when it came back, a cold, rushing " Alpine 
 torrent," upon his own heart. Why, that night, had he to live 
 it all over again, and with the added misery of beholding her 
 desolation ? 
 
 A fault moan issued from the bed-room. Patience looked at 
 Reuben, who raised his head. Their e/es met; hers with a 
 new, softer light struggling in their still darkened depths, his, 
 tender as a woman's, with the sadness of an anguished heart 
 breaking up through them. 
 
 " Go to her, Patience," he said briefly, as another moan broke 
 the silence ; and, at that cry of suffering, all the woman resumed 
 its sway over her soul. She obeyed, leaving Reuben alone with 
 the faint fire-light and his own thoughts. 
 
 As the door shut, another low ciy, full of mental and physical 
 suffering, came from the bed whereon the sufferer lay. Patience 
 went and stood close beside the pillows. It was a face of start- 
 ling girlish beauty she gazed upon now, the counterpart of 
 one which, five years before, had often brightened the old farm- 
 house. The cheeks, no longer marble pale, were crimson with 
 fever ; the lips red as the petals of the damask rose in June- 
 time ; and masses of rippling hair, escaping from the neat lace 
 frilled cap under which Patience had bound it, flashed like 
 threads of spun gold in the candle-light ; but the white forehead 
 was corrugated with deep lines ; about the small, convulsed 
 mouth lay an expression of pain, and dusky circles rimmed the 
 eyes whose lids were closed their long lashes sweeping her 
 cheeks below.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 17 
 
 For a few moments she lay very still, then slowly unclosed 
 her eyes. Sad, almost despairing, was the gaze which sought 
 briefly the faded, weather-beaten face bending over her ; then 
 she shrank from that scrutinizing glance, which seemed to read 
 her soul. Closing the lids faintly, one or two tears were 
 crushed beneath. 
 
 "Patience Wedgewood, do you know me?" she said, at 
 length, in a whisper, pulling up the sheet over her as if to screen 
 herself from the glance of those searching eyes. 
 
 " Mary Halpine, I do ! " was the reply, in a tone which was 
 not, certainly, intended for a cold one, yet had but the slightest 
 quiver of compassion in it ; for the good and evil angels were 
 fighting a hard battle in Patience's heart. 
 
 The poor woman shrank away into the farthest side of the 
 bed, and turned her face to the wall. Did she deserve pity ? she 
 asked herself, or forgiveness, either ? Why, in the hour of 
 her great need, had she come to that house? Why, instead, 
 had she not lain down in the bitter cold of the winter night, and 
 perished? sunk on the soft bosom of the yielding snow, and, 
 dreaming dreams of her innocent earlier days, so died ? Surely, 
 there was One who would not have looked upon her with cold, 
 freezing, unpitying eyes, One who never casts forth the weary 
 wanderer ! 
 
 Such, and many other thoughts, which racked her soul even 
 more than did physical suffering her feeble frame, passed through 
 the poor girl's brain like lightning flashes ; and the weary con- 
 flict brought faintness and exhaustion. 
 
 Patience saw it all. In the aggravated sufferings of the poor 
 being before her, she forgot hard thoughts and hoarded resent- 
 ment, and the best impulses of her nature found sway. She 
 rapidly bathed the pallid temples ; administered invigorating 
 cordials ; called back the life which had almost wandered from 
 
 2*
 
 18 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 those white lips ; and then, replenishing the fire, and drawing 
 the full chintz curtains about the windows, went out into the 
 kitchen, and, laying her hand upon her brother's arm, said, 
 pointing to the bed-room : 
 
 " Poor thing ! Reuben, you must harness up and go after the 
 doctor. But first bring old Nurse Dean over. Wrap up well, 
 brother ; for it's a bitter cold night. Poor Maiy Halpine ! 
 Reuben, I was wicked in keeping such bitterness in my heart 
 against her/ God forgive me ! " 
 
 The farmer started up from his seat. Were there tears in 
 Patience's eyes ? They stood in his own, as he turned away, 
 and drew on his thick boots and overcoat. The hand which took 
 down the old tin lantern from a nail over the fire-place, trem- 
 bled ; and the voice was husky which said, " Come, Bruno," to 
 the huge mastiff, who rose from his slumbers, rubbed his shaggy 
 head against his master's hand, and then followed him out into 
 the cold winter night.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Reader, do you know how we may live and suffer while the business of 
 life goes regularly on, giving no token of the tears that are silently shed ? 
 
 ANN S. STEPHENS. 
 
 IT was a quiet life they lived there bachelor brother and 
 maiden sister in the old farm-house at the Ridge. Year in 
 and out, the months came and went, and time touched them very 
 lightly. But for the few wrinkles that crept upon a face which, 
 somehow, these many latter years, had seemed old and faded, 
 and the gradual silvering of Patience's hair, the sprinkle of 
 gray which had also fallen on Reuben's head, and the crow's- 
 feet that came at the corners of his deep-set, gray eyes, but 
 for these tokens, the good dwellers of Meadow Brook would 
 scarce have thought that the brother and sister were getting to 
 be old, so quietly, and unmarked by any stirring outward event, 
 had their lives passed. 
 
 Time lapses very lightly to the dwellers in quiet country 
 places. Nature, whose communion is like a mother's, helps to 
 keep the heart young. Each shifting season brings its own les- 
 son. As, in the spring-time, the earth is bared to the hand of 
 the sower, so, in human hearts, Love, Hope, and Faith, sow lib- 
 eral seed. Summer, fervid and sultry, with fair bending skies, 
 is oftenest rich in promise of a full fruition of loves and joys, 
 though sometimes, alas ! it brings the blight of the withering 
 drought, when every green thing fails us, the water-courses 
 are dried up, and there is neither hope nor consolation. In 
 autumn, standing amid ripened sheaves, we say, pridefullj^ " Lo, 
 
 (19)
 
 20 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 this is the harvest of -our own planting ! " and sit down to enjoy 
 the fruit of our labor ; and then, even as the year wanes to its 
 death, and the snows weave a shroud over earth's bosom, and 
 nature lapses into its long winter sleep, so weary, white-haired 
 old age lies quietly down to his rest. 
 
 But for both there comes a resurrection ! As, in the rushing 
 spring-floods, winter's icy fetters are loosened, snow wreaths are 
 dissolved, and buds and flowers spring up in their stead, so, in 
 the tides of that Death-river, through which the old man's feet 
 must wade, the frosts of hoary hairs are melted, and youth's am- 
 ber locks are restored ! He plants his foot firmly on the thither 
 shore, where another spring-time reigns with amaranthine 
 bloom ; and his heart keeps young, and fresh, and vernal, for- 
 ever in the sweet May-clime of Heaven ! 
 
 In the pleasant country make our home ! From the heats, 
 turmoils, and cares of crowded cities ; from the eager jostle, and 
 cankering heartburnings of the great world-strife, they who 
 dwell among blooming flowers, green fields, running-brooks, and 
 all of Nature's beautiful things, are delivered. Bless God for 
 the cool, the still, and pleasant country ! 
 
 And so, where the years glide quietly, had they passed, to 
 Reuben and Patience Wedgewood. 
 
 Every spring the violets opened their blue eyes to peep 
 timidly from the shelter of mossy rocks, on green knolls, or the 
 southern slopes of grassy meadows ; the fox-glove, white ane- 
 mone, and pink and white trailing arbutus, blossomed in quiet 
 forest-paths ; the yellow king's-cup stood all along the country 
 roadsides, and graceful brake-leaves and sweet-fern grew near 
 old, mossy stone walls ; lilacs put forth their purple sprays, and 
 flowers budded in Aunt Patience's garden; then, the June 
 days grew warm and long, and the sunshine slept goldenly on the 
 wide country meadows ; the summer heats fell, ripening the
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 21 
 
 herdsgrass and fragrant clover ; at sunset, banks of gold and 
 crimson piled high the western horizon, and the two tall poplars, 
 before the farm-house at the Ridge, flickered their long, leafy 
 arms to and fro like blazing firebrands ; ; beautiful September, 
 when summer lingers to dally in the lap of autumn, came and 
 went, followed by mild, rich fruited October, with woods of 
 gold and fire, harvest moon, and " harvest home," and then 
 old winter brought his tributes of snows and sleets and icy airs 
 without, while good cheer and comfort and blazing hearths held 
 sway within. 
 
 And thus the years had come and gone, till Aunt Patience 
 had turned fifty, and Reuben "Wedgewood had passed his 
 fortieth year. And yet it seemed but a day, since the girl of 
 eighteen stood beside her mother's death-bed with a hallowed 
 promise on her lips ! a promise that she would fill a mother's 
 place to the frail, ten-year-old-child, "poor lame Katy," who 
 clung weeping, to that dying parent. Over thirty years since 
 then, and yet it seemed but a day! Lame Katy had slept 
 beside her mother, in the grave-yard, these twenty-five years, 
 but, to Patience, she was still the pale, slender girl, whom she 
 had cai'ried in her arms, and soothed to sleep on her bosom. 
 O, Patience, when, with sobs you laid her from your breast, 
 where her head should be pillowed no more, did you think the 
 years could come and go so rapidly ? 
 
 But had time passed as happily, as fleetly, to the brother and 
 sister? What shadows could have fallen athwart Reuben's path- 
 way ? Did not the " Ridge Farm" extend over many well-tilled 
 acres ? Was he not " forehanded" in the world prospering 
 both in his basket and his store ? And the kind-hearted, even- 
 tempered maiden sister ; the economical, thrifty, neat house- 
 keeper ; the pattern of good neighbors, and the universal " aunt" 
 of Meadow Brook had she ever known troubles in her 
 pleasant home?
 
 22 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 All ! yes, yes ! Was there ever life without them ? 
 
 There were people in Meadow Brook who could remember, 
 how, many . years ago, when Patience Wedge wood was young 
 and handsome, with glossy black hair, and cheeks red as wild 
 roses, she had been the pride and toast of all the county. At 
 ball, husking, or quilting, there had been no girl lighter of foot, 
 with brighter eye or merrier laugh, than she. They remem- 
 bered, too, how she had a lover in those days, a favored one 
 from the many who paid her court, who rode very often from 
 his fine farm, at the " Cross- Roads," over to the Ridge, and 
 fastening his great roan colt at old Mr. Wedgewood's gate, went 
 in, ostensibly to talk of "the crops," with the farmer, but in 
 reality to gaze at Patience's red cheeks, and exchange a little 
 chit-chat with her in a sly manner, which usually ended in 
 asking her company to the singing school or some merry-making 
 at "the village; how attentive he was, until Patience's mother, 
 dying, had bequeathed little lame Katy to her care, bidding her 
 never leave her; and then, when Patience told him, that, 
 when she married, she must bring Katy with her for she could 
 not break her promise to her dead mother he demurred; 
 and afterward, when old Mr. Wedgewood died suddenly, and 
 upon settlement of affairs the farm was found to be involved, 
 this base lover James Con way neglected her, and finally 
 broke his vows, and went away and married a rich girl who 
 brought him a fine dowry, accompanied also, by a passionate 
 temper and an unruly tongue, which embittered his days ; 
 they remembered all this, and how, from that time, Patience 
 grew old, and faded fast, and seldom went out, but devoted her- 
 self to her sister and brother ; how, a few years later, little 
 lame Katy died ; and, at twenty-five, a sad, reserved woman, 
 looking full ten years older than she really was, she turned 
 to her boy-brother, and vowed, henceforth, to devote her life to
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 23 
 
 him ; refusing the offers of many others who would gladly have 
 won her, saying, calmly : " I have got my duty to do here. I 
 shall never marry ! " 
 
 Yes, there were many who remembered those days, and 
 acknowledged her worth ; though some, young and thoughtless, 
 called her " old-maid," little appreciating the noble self-sacrifice 
 which made her such. But she, whose life had been so rich in 
 quiet worth and deeds of humble beauty, could well afford to 
 wear that name. She, who sacrificed her dreams of wedded 
 bliss that she might fulfil her vow to a dying mother who was 
 like a mother to the lame girl, carrying the little frail form in 
 her arms, watching over her day and night until she died upon 
 her bosom she, the " old-maid," for whom our world would 
 be better if there were more such, could well afford to wear a 
 name which was, to her, an honor, and a crown of glory. 
 
 Good Old Aunt Patience ! So sure as every throb of thy 
 kind heart was numbered, every trial and struggle noted by 
 One, who sits above and seeth and knoweth all, thou hast, ere 
 this, met thy reward ! 
 
 And Reuben Wedgewood, too ! In his younger days, when 
 there was no " smarter," " likelier" man in all the county ; or 
 later, when the incumbrances on the farm were cleared off, and 
 he had grown " well to do," as farmers say, in this world's 
 v/ealth, why had he not brought a wife to share his home, and 
 relieve his sister from a portion of her cares ? Ah ! this had 
 been no secret in Meadow Brook, either. Let us see ! 
 
 In his early youth, Reuben had been shy and bashful, fonder 
 of the fireside, and Patience's society, than of rustic merry- 
 makings ; and then, on coming of age, he had devoted himself 
 assiduously to paying up the mortgage on the farm, assisted by 
 his single-hearted sister, who spun, and wove, and went to market 
 with the products of her dairy ; saving up all her earnings for
 
 24 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 this one object ; and so his youth and early manhood passed, 
 and when the shady side of thirty saw him unmarried, Reuben 
 was set down as a confirmed bachelor. 
 
 But after a few years, the people of Meadow Brook were 
 surprised to hear that he was shortly to bring a mistress to the 
 Ridge and no other than little Mary Halpine, scarce turned 
 eighteen, the prettiest girl in the whole village ! Pretty, but 
 poor ; for her mother was the widow of a broken trader, and 
 rented one of Reuben's tenements, a little, brown cottage at the 
 village, where she and Mary eked out a support by their 
 needles. And so, at thirty-five, the farmer met the village- 
 beauty and lost his heart ! 
 
 With fair golden hair, violet eyes, and faultless features ; a 
 slight, graceful form, and a refinement of manner he had never 
 seen in the country maidens round about she seemed to the 
 bashful bachelor, far above him, and for months he worshipped 
 at a distance. But, at length, fortune aided him ; for Mrs. Hal- 
 pine, rejoicing that her daughter had attracted the attention of so 
 estimable, upright, and " forehanded" a man as Mr. Wedgewood, 
 openly encouraged him ; nor was it long before the fair Maiy 
 grew less shy, and received him with favor, and by and by, 
 one sweet summer evening returning from the Ridge, whither 
 she had been invited by Aunt Patience, with a score of village 
 girls, to spend the afternoon walking slowly down the quiet 
 country road with Reuben at her side he asked her to become 
 his wife ! and, blushing confusedly, she whispered assent! In 
 autumn she Avould go to the Ridge, as his wife. 
 
 But when October, with its golden days and harvest-home, 
 had come and gone ; when gray November, with frowning skies 
 without but blazing wood-fires within, had just unfolded her 
 tablets ; when Patience's hard, horny, but willing hands, had 
 burnished and brightened anew the old farm-house, arranged
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 25 
 
 everything from garret to cellar, opened linen presses whose 
 contents had been accumulating for years, draped anew the high- 
 posted bed in the spare chamber, and spread a bright rag-carpet 
 of her own weaving, on the floor of the " west room," filled 
 the buttery with stores of -good things, polished the pewter on 
 the dressers till it shone like silver, set out the old-fashioned, 
 delicate pink china, scoured and sanded the kitchen floor, and 
 wound fresh wreaths of winter-green brightened with scarlet 
 wax-berries, about the tall eight-day clock in the corner when, 
 in short, the house was all swept and garnished for the reception 
 of the fair girl-bride, the faithful sister her tasks over sat 
 down on the settle in the chimney-place to rest, and said, with 
 a half-sigh : " Well, brother Reuben will be happier, I hope ! " 
 Then, when the stalwart farmer, bronzed with his year's harvest 
 toil, came from his fields and granaries, and, looking around on 
 the ready house, said : " I will bring a fair flower here, to 
 brighten it, " when the wedding-day was set, and all things 
 were in readiness, then came a terrible, stunning blow ! 
 
 Mary, sweet Mary Halpine, was lost to him forever ! Not 
 dead he could have borne that! could have looked upon 
 her young face under the coffin-lid, and lain her away in the 
 grave, though his heart had well nigh broken ! But it was bit- 
 terer, far, than death, the way in which she was lost to him ! 
 
 And then the whole story was told. She had left him for 
 another ! 
 
 During the last month of the summer that was past, a hand- 
 some young stranger had boarded at the principal tavern of 
 Meadow Brook. Day after day had he been seen wandering 
 through the woods, with sketch-book or fishing-rod in hand ; for 
 whole hours he fished from the banks of some bright, clear trout- 
 stream winding among the meadows and woodlands ; or pencilled 
 some exquisite bit of scenery, where the dense -foliage cast deep, 
 
 3
 
 26 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Rembrant shadows, or a white, foaming cascade leaped down a 
 rocky precipice, but not alone the charms those forest- wilds held 
 out to the angler and the artist, lured him there for there, too, 
 had he tempted sweet Mary Halpine to meet him ! Their acquaint- 
 ance, which commenced at a village pic-nic a few weeks before, 
 had progressed by means of visits to the cottage whither he had 
 gone, ostensibly to employ the mother in her capacity of seam- 
 stress ; but the prudent Mrs. Halpine read his admiration for the 
 daughter, and lost no time in making it understood that Mary 
 was a promised wife. 
 
 But what cared the stranger that he went no more to the cot- 
 tage, so long as Mary could be induced to meet him in the 
 shady forest-paths, walk with him for hours, sit beside him on 
 the banks of the brook while he sketched, or listened to his 
 words of delicate flattery, as he wove oak-leaves and scarlet 
 cardinal flowers into wreaths for her sunny hair ? Augustus 
 Revere knew only too well the heart of woman to despair* of 
 winning that fair girl who, with flushing cheek and brightened 
 eye, met him there. Such fresh, dewy hearts he had won 
 before, and broken, too, for, though young in years, at heart he 
 was an old, hackneyed man of the world. 
 
 And alas ! for the credulous girl ! We need not tell how his 
 beauty, elegance and grace, with the gallant, chivalrous devotion 
 of his manner, won her heart away. It was the old story over 
 again ; a story that will always be repeated so long as women 
 are trusting, and men are deceivers ; and Mary Halpine was no 
 wiser or better than others who, from listening learned to be- 
 lieve from believing, loved from loving, fell ! Fascinated 
 with tales of a love, so like that of which she had read in old 
 romances, where gallant knights wooed fair ladyes in the 
 quiet " green wood shade ; " contrasting this elegant dark-eyed 
 lover, and his ardent, passionate protestations clothed in the
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 27 
 
 choicest diction, with the sturdy, broad-shouldered, toil- 
 hardened Reuben, and his honest, no doubt heart-felt, but 
 common-place love-sayings, it was little wonder that the young 
 girl, blinded by a passion which grew rapidly and swayed her 
 whole being, forgot the manly devotion of a true heart, forgot 
 honor and plighted vows and broke her faith ! 
 
 Yet not without a struggle had she yielded. We will do 
 Mary Halpine the justice to say that, when Augustus Revere 
 first whipsered his protestations, she recoiled. Ah ! had she fled 
 then ! But, hesitatingly, she lingered and, again, listened ! 
 
 What poor, fluttering, charmed bird, gazing at the serpent, 
 but falls, at length, into its coiling embrace ? What woman, for- 
 getting duty and honor, listens to the tale of forbidden worship, 
 and escapes unharmed ? 
 
 " Go away, and leave me ! I dare not, must not listen ! I 
 am the promised wife of another ! " she said, covering her crim- 
 soned face with her small white hands. 
 
 " " Yes, promised to a miserable clod of a farmer ! A piece 
 of dull earth, whose heart is set upon his fat oxen and his crops ! 
 No, Mary, by heaven ! he shall not have such an exquisite piece 
 of nature's porcelain as you ! The bright, gay world has need 
 of such let me take you there ! It is no sin to break an 
 engagement like yours ; there is neither heart nor soul in it. By 
 and by he will get him a wife from among these rough country 
 girls ; one better fitted for milking his cows, and the toils of his 
 farm-house, than a delicate blossom like you. Do not fear for 
 your mother's consent; she will be proud of you when you 
 come back my wife. Mary, darling tell me you will be 
 mine ! " So he pleaded. 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! It is wicked ! I mustn't stay here ! Let me 
 go ! " she cried. 
 
 " Then you will condemn me to a life-time of misery ? Mary,
 
 28 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 you are cruel ! " and the wily man softened his voice ; " but 
 I cannot go away and forget you. Though I resign you, I can 
 never banish your image from my heart ; and must this be our 
 last interview ? Oh, no, in pity, Mary, grant me another. To- 
 morrow I leave this quiet country village ; but I shall come back 
 once, again, to bid you good-bye forever. You will not refuse 
 me that f promise me ! " 
 
 And Mary promised. But what need to add more ? Only will 
 we say, that, while the weeks went by, and the preparations for 
 the marriage were speeding, Mary Halpine went about like one 
 in a dream but with a terrible remorse at her heart ; lacking 
 courage, and, alas! all too unwilling to confess her fault. And 
 when the golden Indian summer had faded, then her lover came, 
 secretly and quietly ; and, in the hush of a night just one week 
 preceding that appointed for the wedding, she bent for a moment 
 above her sleeping mother's pillow then stole out into the 
 shivering woods to meet her fate. 
 
 "Was it wonder that when they told him, Reuben Wedgewood 
 crushed under his heel the plain gold wedding-ring he had pur- 
 chased for Mary's slender finger! burned a lock of sunny hair! 
 his brow grew dark and stern ! and henceforth her name was 
 never spoken in the old farm-house ?
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Thou art fickle as the sea ; thou art wandering as the wind ; 
 And the restless, ever-mounting flame, is not more hard to bind. 
 If the tears I shed were tongues, yet all too few would be 
 
 To tell of all the treachery that thou hast shown to me. 
 
 BRYANT. 
 
 IT was an elegant apartment of the Astor House which with 
 the romancist's privilege, we will take the liberty of visiting. 
 Every appointment of its furnishing was luxurious. The carpet 
 was of the choicest texture, velvet soft ; voluminous curtains of 
 brocatelle draped the windows ; pier-glasses multiplied the 
 Parian and bronze mantel ornaments, candelabras, Bohemian 
 and Etruscan vases, marble brackets, gilt framed pictures, and 
 other adornments of the room. An elegant inlaid table was cov- 
 ered with richly bound books and portfolios of drawings, and an 
 open piano strewn with sheet music ; low, crimson velvet cov- 
 ered lounges and tabourets stood about the walls; a Psyche 
 and Hebe filled niches between two bay windows ; a coal fire 
 glowed -in the grate, for the evening was a cold, wet, stormy 
 one, and cast a cheerful, ruddy glare over the room. 
 
 Before the grate, in a large crimson velvet covered reception 
 chair, his feet carelessly thrust into a pair of embroidered slip- 
 pers, clad in an elegant dressing-gown and Turkish smoking-cap, 
 with the slender, white fingers of one hand supporting the stem 
 ,of his quaint German meerschaum, and the other buried in the 
 long curls of his hair, while his elbow rested on a table drawn up 
 close beside him, on which stood an elegant cut-glass decanter 
 
 3* (29)
 
 30 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 and two slender wine-glasses in a silver tray, sat the master of 
 this sumptuous room Augustus Revere. 
 
 Let us survey him as he sits indolently reclining there, his 
 head thrown back against the chair, and the radiance of the 
 lighted candelabra flooding his face. Now he has lain aside his 
 pipe, tosses his tasselled smoking-cap to the table, and again set- 
 tles back in the luxurious depths of his chair, apparently in a 
 dreamy reverie ; while the howling winter winds without, and 
 the icy sleet beating against the windows, enhanced the enjoy- 
 ment of light and warmth within. 
 
 His form is slight, but of tall, well-knit, and elegant propor- 
 tions. His hand is white and delicate as a lady's ; and on one 
 of the slender fingers thrust among his brown curls, a diamond 
 ring gleams in a splendid setting. His face is strikingly hand- 
 some, so far as a regular cast of features goes to constitute 
 beauty. A high forehead ; aquiline nose, with thin, proud nos- 
 trils ; small, well-cut mouth, with full red lips, almost feminine 
 in their expression, save for rigid curves about them, betokening 
 a strength of will not easily attained by woman ; and a firm 
 rounded chin, shaded by a dark, glossy, and delicately curling 
 moustache. 
 
 It is a handsome, manly face, certainly, thrown in full relief 
 against the dark background of the deep crimson chair, and one 
 upon which you would be Jikely to turn to look a second tune ; 
 and then you would observe what you . did not at first, how 
 there are deep lines outward from the eyes to the white tem- 
 ples, and a fulness to the lips, betokening not only inflexibility 
 of will, but a love for sensuous pleasures ; and the somewhat 
 scornful curve of the short upper lip, seems almost a sneer. If 
 he smiled, as he did often during his reverie, you would 
 think it a wondrous fascinating smile ; but there was a glittering 
 chill in it, the polished, cold brilh'ancy of ice. His eyes were
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. ^ 31 
 
 blue ; not moist, warm, tender blue eyes, whose glance has a 
 soul in it, but the dull, hard gleam of untempered steel. And, 
 as he sat there, with the fire-light illumining his countenance, 
 the thoughts revolving in his mind left no trace on his features, 
 nor were mirrored in his unspeaking eyes. 
 
 There are those who can turn the key on heart and brain. 
 In those inner laboratories they forge out thoughts, concoct 
 schemes, and link together the purposes which guide their out- 
 ward lives among men. In the crucible of the brain they melt 
 and fuse all the subtle elements of their nature together. Pride, 
 Passion, Love, Hate, Hope, and Fear, by turns are cast into the 
 bubbling cauldron, each to work its own part in transmuting all 
 passing events into their philosopher's stone Success ! 
 
 So was it with Augustus Revere. The brain working in that 
 graceful head was clear, acute, and subtle ; the heart beating 
 under that polished, elegant exterior, hard and unyielding when 
 it conflicted with his Will ; those blue eyes, which could counter- 
 feit the softest, tenderest emotions when woman's heart was to 
 be won, could also grow stern, and freezing, and pitiless ; those 
 fingers idly thrust into his rich brown curls, had clasped other 
 fingers scarce whiter or slenderer, leading fair, trusting crea- 
 tures into paths whose end was moral death ; then idly flung 
 them off, to wander their downward way alone, while he went 
 back to society, to be petted and courted anew. For this man 
 was, what the reader has doubtless, ere this, surmised, one of 
 that numerous class who infest society, sit at rich men's tables, 
 converse with theirwives and daughters, bow deferentially to 
 Fifth Avenue dwellers, kiss their white-gloved fingers to Broad- 
 way belles, encircle their slender waists in the waltz at festivals, 
 drive fast horses, and give champagne suppers to a host of " good 
 fellows " in upper-tendom ; ostensibly meeting his expenses by 
 remittances from an old East Indian nabob uncle, whose heir
 
 32 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 prospective he stood ; ostensibly this, but in reality a roue, gam- 
 bler, and adventurer. 
 
 At twenty-five, Augustus Revere was old. His career had 
 begun early. At nineteen, expelled from college, where his 
 father, an honest, hard-working farmer, committing the common 
 error of -wishing to make his only son "a gentleman," had 
 placed him with an unlimited command of money at his disposal, 
 he betook himself to a wider sphere of action ; and, ere his 
 twenty-third year, had broken his father's heart, gotten the rem- 
 nant of his patrimony into his own hands, and finally, lost all the 
 freshness of truth and honor in the labyrinthine mazes of wicked- 
 ness in a great city. 
 
 With a naturally superior mind, talents of a high order, ele- 
 gant person and gentlemanly address, the keenest of percep- 
 tive faculties, aided by an indomitable will and a sort of natural 
 patrician pride, that well accorded with his haughty personal 
 beauty, he took good care that, while, his occupation remained 
 unsuspected, he gradually worked his way upward into the 
 higher circles of society. This was accomplished, partially by 
 fastening himself on dissolute scions of aristocratic families, whom 
 he met at gambling-saloons and aided from his own purse for 
 he was a most skilful player ; for the rest, his artfully concocted 
 tale of the nabob East Indian uncle, secured him the coveted 
 entree into circles where his consummate tact, elegant person, 
 and fascinating address detained him, a welcome guest. 
 
 On the stormy night in question, Augustus Revere evidently 
 enjoyed the warmth and cheerful seclusion of his elegant parlor ; 
 for he indolently lifted his head from the softly-cushioned chair- 
 back, listened a moment to the howling storm, and then sunk 
 into his old attitude, with a self-satisfied, complacent smile upon 
 his lips. 
 
 It was a wild night, and the fiercest of storms was abroad.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 33 
 
 Down the streets and alleys of the great city the wind rushed 
 like an angry, howling air-demon. Round every square and 
 corner, into every court and passage, it went r&oaning and sob- 
 bing, seeking shelter, yet finding none the homeless wind ! 
 
 But few were abroad, and those impelled by necessity ; for pow- 
 erful indeed must be the motive which tempts men from warm, 
 cheerful firesides to encounter driving sleet and biting winter 
 winds. The darkness had set in early, making the evening 
 seem long ; and when the French clock on the mantel of Augus- 
 tus Revere's parlor struck eight, he started from his reverie, 
 drew forth his gold repeater to compare it with the clock, and 
 rose with a yawn, exclaiming, " Hang it ! how deuced slow the 
 time goes ! "What can a fellow do to amuse Himself ? " 
 
 Turning to the table, he poured a glass of wine, held it up a 
 moment between his eyes and the light, watching the beaded 
 foam on the ruby wave, quaffed it off ; then thrust his feet 
 firmly into his slippers, and, crossing the floor, seated himself at 
 the piano and lightly dashed off a popular opera air which he 
 hummed the while. 
 
 Suddenly he broke off in the middle, wheeled round on the 
 music stool, and going to a window drew aside the heavy cur- 
 tains with one white hand, and looked out into the night. 
 
 " Confound it ! how dark ! Black as Erebus ! and such a wet 
 night, too ! Can't put a foot out doors ; nor will any of the club 
 venture up here, I dare say. Were it not for the storm, I'd 
 draw on a pair of new kids, order a carriage, and call on Jule ; 
 but the most devoted lover couldn't find a shadow of excuse for 
 stirring out such a night. So, I've nothing left but to take 
 another smoke and go to bed ! " and he went back to his easy 
 chair, replenished the bowl of his meerschaum, and sank into 
 his old indolent attitude. 
 
 Hardly had the smoke-wreaths begun to encircle his head, ere
 
 34 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 a tap came at his door. The waiter put his head in, with " Mr. 
 Golding, sir." 
 
 "Ah, Hugh, my boy, you're as welcome as good old 
 Rhenish ! " exclaimed Revere, starting up and welcoming the 
 new comer with a cordial shake of the hand. " Fact is, I was 
 getting deuced lonesome, just going to bed, for the want of 
 somebody to talk to ; but I'm good for a brace of hours yet, old 
 fellow ! Here, sit down ! " and he wheeled another luxuriant 
 easy-chair toward the grate. " Take a smoke ? Prime Havanas, 
 these, best brand ! " handing a silver cigar-case from the-man- 
 tel. "Have a drink, too? Pure old Moselle!" and he 
 poured a foaming glass. 
 
 " Ah, thank you, Gus," drawled the new comer, sinking into 
 the chair, after he had divested himself of a broadcloth circular 
 from which the frozen snow melted in drops upon the thick car- 
 pet. " Devilish cold night this, 'pon my word ! Takes the 
 breath quite out of a fellow. Shouldn't have come out to-night, 
 but a little business affair pressed me rather hard. Thought I'd 
 come down and see what you'd do towards helping a fellow out 
 of a tight place. The boys are all down on me ; not a red cent 
 can be squeezed from their pockets. What's to be done in such 
 a case, Gus ? " and, while comfortably settled in the depths of 
 the arm-chair, his feet on the polished grate-fender, and sipping 
 his wine leisurely as he awaited his companion's reply, we will 
 take the liberty of surveying Hugh Golding's personale. 
 
 He was probably the junior of Revere by two or three years, 
 but more than his peer hi elegance of form and feature ; a slen- 
 der, but well-knit frame, purely cut classical features, a pale, 
 transparent complexion, whose clearness dissipation had little 
 impaired, relieved by hah* and eyes of jetty blackness, going to 
 make up his attractive physique. In character, he was the 
 counterpart of his companion, with the exception that his refined
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 35 
 
 vices were the legitimate fruit of a youth of aristocratic idleness, 
 rather than the cool, scheming plots of a hardened shiner. The 
 only son of a rich merchant of Gotham of unimpeachable integ- 
 rity and standing in the highest circles, Golding's youth had 
 passed in a dream of luxurious ease ; nor did he ever find him- 
 self in the least straitened for the means to sustain his idle, 
 spendthrift life, until, during a severe mercantile crisis, his father 
 went down in the crash, and, from being the "prospective heir 
 of millions, he awoke to beggary. The stricken merchant, un- 
 manned, buried his despair in the grave whither a paralytic 
 stroke hurried him ; and the son, scorning honest labor, con- 
 flicting as it did with his" ideas of respectability, fell in with a 
 set of " fast " young men foremost among wfeom was the 
 wily Revere, who resolved to take advantage of Golding's aris- 
 tocratic connections to push his own way into society and 
 thus he found a new way of coining money : by dice and cards. 
 For five years their intimacy had remained unbroken ; and cer- 
 tainly during that period the pupil had equalled, if not excelled, 
 his master. Few imagined how, under Golding's smooth, care- 
 ^less, gentleman-like exterior, lay strong passions, deep resolves, 
 and a species of craftiness, which, for the lack of occasion, had 
 never been developed ; yet, that he possessed* these attributes, 
 let the sequel of his career show. 
 
 As he sat there, carelessly sipping the sparkling wine and 
 awaiting Revere's reply, you would not have thought a care or 
 
 loss had ever disturbed his brain. 
 
 ^ 
 
 " Come, Gus," he said, putting down the glass and idly slip-- 
 ping a splendid seal ring over the joint of his slender little fin- 
 ger, " what say you ? Can you accommodate me with five 
 thousand or so ? for I lost deucedly last night, to that French 
 Count." 
 
 " Five thousand dollars ! What the d ickens do you
 
 36 PEACE : OE THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 mean ? " echoed Revere, in astonishment. " Why, my dear fel- 
 low, you must be non compos a little touched here ! " tap- 
 ping his forehead with his fore-finger. " I hav'nt five hundred 
 at my disposal now ! Couldn't raise it, either ; for I've been 
 confoundedly unlucky of late, and here I am at present, with my 
 board bills accumulating, putting off " mine host " till something 
 in the shape of a flat turns up at Delmonte's. Fact is, I doubt 
 whether I can raise the needful for the bridal fixings, expenses 
 of the journey, etc., when the wedding comes off. Deuced 
 agreeable that, I say ; don't you ? But, ah ! I forgot that you're 
 not posted yet, Hugh ! " 
 
 " Wedding ! " echoed Golding, surprised in his turn, his cheek 
 paling ; " Augustus Revere, you don't mean to tell me that 
 that " his voice failed him. 
 
 Revere smiled. " Yes, I do mean to say, that last night, at 
 Dr. Hartwell's house, was a fortunate one for me. I flatter 1 
 myself that I am the accepted suitor of the handsomest, wealth- 
 iest heiress of the Crescent City. In other words, your cousin, 
 Julie Courtney, is my promised wife. Wish me joy of our future 
 kinship, Hugh ! " and he held forth "his hand. " I see you are. 
 somewhat surprised at this hasty and prosperous termination of 
 my wooing ; but nothing like striking when the iron's hot, my 
 dear fellow ! " 
 
 Hugh Golding sprang up from his chair, and dashed aside the 
 proffered hand. He strode the floor rapidly. His face was 
 white as^marble ; a lurid glow burned in his midnight eyes ; he 
 bit his lips till bloody foam flecked his gleaming teeth ; and his 
 clenched fingers worked convulsively, burying their nails in his 
 soft palms. There was a blending of anger, pride, and despair, 
 chasing in rnpid waves over his features. Pygmalion's statue, 
 suddenly wai-med into glowing, passionate life, was scarce a more 
 wonderful transformation than this ; only that darker emotions
 
 PEACE I OB THE STOLEN WILL. 37 
 
 swept their tumultuous throes over Golding's face, which, turned 
 from the fire-light, was partially concealed from his companion's 
 gaze. But Revere saw something of his agitation. 
 
 " What is the matter, Hugh ? You go on like a rejected 
 lover ! What, not congratulate me ? A shabby trick, 'pon my 
 word ! " 
 
 There was a conflict, wild, terrible, but brief, in Golding's 
 heart ; but when he turned his face to the light, there was no 
 trace left save a slight paleness. Forcing a quick, nervous 
 laugh, he came back and sat down ; and, leaning toward Revere, 
 shook his hand. 
 
 " I was foolish ; but it was such a surprise ! Upon my word, 
 I did not know that you and Jule had got on so ! When does it 
 come off ? " 
 
 " I accompany her home in the latter part of February, to 
 meet my future father-in-law ; and she will return as ' Mrs. 
 Revere.' Sorry that I can't accommodate you regarding the 
 money ; but you see how it is. I must husband my resources, 
 else I shall not husband Jule in a hurry, I fear. Ha, ha ! no 
 punning intended, my boy ! After all, it is something to place 
 freedom beyond your reach, and put your head into the yoke in 
 good earnest! But brides like Julie Courtney are not to be 
 won every day. Splendid girl, isn't she, Golding ? I owe you 
 an eternal debt of gratitude for the introduction.' 
 
 " My cousin's wealth is not her only dowry. To win such a 
 heart as hers is better than refined gold ! " replied the young 
 man, with a dash of haughty enthusiasm. "All are not so 
 favored. I wish you joy ! " he added, in a hard, bitter tone, 
 choking som'ething rising in his throat. " But about the busi- 
 ness " he went on in a changed voice. " The money must be 
 raised. I could put the Count off, I suppose, for a month or 
 
 4
 
 38 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 two, with my note and a good endorser. Let me have your 
 name. 1 " 
 
 " Five thousand ! It's too monstrous ! If it were a possible 
 thing, Hugh;, but " 
 
 " A possible thing ! " echoed Golding, sarcastically. " What 
 can a few paltry thousands be to a gentleman of your expecta- 
 tions ? A mere drop in the bucket ! Our ' East Indian uncle's 
 heir' is getting parsimonious, I'm afraid." 
 
 Revere caught the glance of keen, scrutinizing black eyes, 
 bent upon him. Was he suspected? He coughed, shifted his 
 position, and looked down in embarrassment. 
 
 " Besides, there is a wealthy heiress in prospective, whom / 
 helped you to, Augustus Revere. If / prove the villain whom 
 your words seem to imply, think you my generous cousin Jule 
 would begrudge so small a moiety from the yield of her cotton- 
 fields as a purse of gold to her lord and master, wherewith to 
 redeem his bond f But this is all folly ! I want your name, 
 simply. Will you give it me ? " 
 
 Revere still hung back. Evidently his faith in his compan- 
 ion's words was small ; or he feared lest the knowledge that he 
 was connected with any such business transaction with the well- 
 known gambler, Count Le Vert, would reach the ears of his 
 affiancee. The latter predominated. 
 
 " If I were sure this would not come to Miss Courtney's 
 knowledge. I must guard well my character in her eyes," he 
 pleaded. 
 
 " Your character ! " sneered Golding, with a withering glance 
 of contempt. " Pshaw ! you talk of honor ! Why, Gus Revere, 
 you know that, in one hour from now, I could place an insur- 
 mountable barrier between your marriage with my cousin. 
 Deny that, if you can ! You do well to guard your ' character ' 
 now, at this late hour! We shall have you turning parson
 
 PEACE : OK THE STOLEN WILL. 89 
 
 directly, on oar hands ! But it will never do ! The fair Julie 
 has too immaculate notions, to marry a man who has kept his 
 mis " 
 
 Revere started up. A flush crimsoned his cheek, and for a 
 moment a shade of feeling quivered in his voice. 
 
 " Hugh Golding, keep back that word ! You, of all men, 
 know how I wronged that girl ; but you shall not taunt me with 
 it, or apply such a name to her ! I am a villain ; I was fully 
 sensible of that six months ago. I was a double villain before 
 then, when I took the child and gave him into your keeping. I 
 turn in your power ! Go to Dr. Hartwell's house, inquire for 
 Miss Julie Courtney, and tell her what a saintly young gentle- 
 man she has promised to marry ! " 
 
 " Shall I take you at your word ? " queried Golding, coolly, 
 starting up resolutely. "Just as you say about the matter. 
 Good night ! " and he laid his hand on the door-knob. 
 
 His audacious movement restored caution to Revere, who, in 
 a momentary fit of affected abandonment to remorse, had over- 
 acted his part. 
 
 " Sit down, for God's sake, Hugh, and let us compromise this 
 affair ! " 
 
 " There is but one way of settling it, the way in which I 
 have pointed out, your endorsement of the note ! Are you a 
 fool, not to see what your best move is ? " 
 
 Revere replied by bringing a writing-case from a cabinet, and 
 placing it before his companion. 
 
 " Write the note," he said. " Should it become impossible 
 for you to meet it, I will befriend you, and with money of my 
 own earning, too. The day that sees me return to New York a 
 married man, sees me a reformed one. I will leave dice and 
 cards, and engage in some honorable, lucrative mercantile em- 
 ployment ; which example I recommend you to follow, Hugh."
 
 40 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Golding's lip curled. Balancing his pen lightly between his 
 thumb and finger, he looked Revere sharply in the eye, and 
 said: 
 
 " I hold myself exceedingly grateful for your advice. I may 
 accept it and I may not. But, Gus, you havn't fathomed me 
 yet. I spoke of an obstacle to your marriage ; there is ,one, 
 such as you never dreamed of, the knowledge of which I alone 
 possess. And I might go to Julie to-night, and impart to her 
 what would cause her to spurn you ! but I will not. Let the 
 marriage go on. Will, perhaps Justice, must be subservient to 
 my Necessity. This saves you, but it seals her fate ! " he mut- 
 tered in a lower tone as he hastily dashed off the note and 
 pushed it across the table. 
 
 " This wonderful secret of which you affirm yourself sole pos- 
 sessor, is necessarily a mystery to me," said Revere coldly, 
 writing his name on the back of the note. 
 
 " It will be well if it always remains so ; and indeed it depends 
 wholly upon yourself," returned Golding, depositing the note in 
 his pocket-book and taking his cloak and hat from the chair. 
 " It is late ; I must go. I pledge you secrecy ; and wish you 
 happiness in this glass of wine. Good night ! Yes, Julie 
 Courtney, your fate is sealed" he murmured, almost sadly, as he 
 gained the keen, cold outer air. " Poor Julie ! and yet how I 
 have loved you ! "
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The snow had hegun in the gloaming, 
 
 And busily all the night 
 Had been heaping field and highway 
 
 With a silence deep and white. 
 
 LOWELL. 
 
 His scorn is lying on my heart like snow ; 
 My eyes are weary, and I fain would sleep ; 
 The quietest sleep is underneath the ground. 
 
 ALEXANDER SMITH. 
 
 MORNING broke over Meadow Brook. The storm had 
 passed. The air was clear as crystal, the sky darkly blue as 
 steel ; and broken fleecy cloud-rifts, " like white lambs gone 
 astray," wandered hither and thither over the azure field of 
 heaven. The earth, like a fair bride, was attired in spotless 
 white ; snow-clad hills, standing side by side, awaited the coming 
 of the groom from the chambers of the East, while stately pines 
 and firs those priests among trees, wifh gown and cassock 
 always on with outstretched arms, seemed waiting to murmur 
 the benediction. 
 
 On meadow, pasture-land, and in the hollows, drifts, pure 
 white and unflecked by a shadow even, lay unbroken ; the river 
 in the valley wound like the trail of a dark serpent through the 
 landscape ; low stone walls and fences went straggling hither 
 and thither, their course unmarked, save where some topmost 
 rail or stone projected ; sign-boards at cross-roads stood knee- 
 deep in snow, their muffled arms stretched forth, as though, in 
 imploring shelter, they had frozen stiff in their sentinel stations ; 
 
 4* (41)
 
 42 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 and the forests drooped under their feathery tributes. And then, 
 as the sun came from the orient begirt in robes of gold and fire, 
 mounting higher, and the morning deepened, then commenced 
 country sights and sounds. 
 
 First, a fault thread of smoke which had coiled close to some 
 chimney-top, shivering in the dim, cold air of the gray dawn, 
 rose slowly upward, grew fainter and thinner, till lost in the 
 blue ; then from every chimney in Meadow Brook graceful 
 wreathing columns floated away in rapidly whirling lines. 
 " Chanticleer's muffled crow " came from barn-yards and sheds, 
 echoing out in choruses, until one shrill, defiant scream rose high 
 above all others ; the bleating of sheep and lowing of cattle 
 deepened ; stately watch-dogs, uttered their deep-mouthed bark ; 
 frisky terriers leaped about in the soft snow with quick, sharp 
 cries ; or some venturesome, frolicking kitten, first peeping tim- 
 idly from a half-opened farm-house door, cautiously ventured 
 out, leaving quaintest, cunningest little tracks in the yielding 
 white carpet, until she was glad to return to the blazing hearth- 
 stone whence she ventured, and, drying her velvet paws, snug- 
 gled down in the warmest corner. 
 
 Then the stout farmer, with furred cap and thick mittens, 
 came out and burrowed his way to the long barn, whence, after 
 " foddering " his cattle, he returned, shovelMng a wide path to 
 the house-door. Little girls were content with peeping from 
 windows, melting the frost from the panes with their warm 
 breath, or scratching it away with their fat fingers, demolishing 
 all Jack Frost's cunningly pencilled devices, tree, shrub, 
 flower, castle, tower and turret, while their chubby brothers 
 jumped about and halloed, blinding one another with handfuls 
 of loose snow. Then perhaps Ned caught Dick by the collar, 
 and rolled him over into a deep drift, from whence said Dick 
 soon emerged shaking himself like a young cub, though, what
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 43 
 
 with the cold, and his anger which would certainly have pro- 
 voked a passion of tears but for his prideful wish to "be a 
 man," his round cheeks glowed very red. And so it continued, 
 until a comely-faced woman, with ample checked aprtm, appeared 
 in the door-way with a summons to breakfast. 
 
 But, after smoking corn cakes and steaming coffee are des- 
 patched, behold them forth again' ! Huge sleds, drawn by yokes 
 of patient oxen, are piloted out into the highway ; the farmer 
 wading knee-deep in the drifts alongside, and flourishing his 
 goad over " Buck," or " Star," or " Bright," while his boys pile 
 upon the sleds, and the great oxen plough their way steadily 
 forward to " break odt the roads." In a few hours more, the 
 highway partially trodden, sleigh-bells chime on the air, at 
 first faintly, then faster and nearer, as some dashing young 
 farmer whirls furiously past- in a gayly painted cutter behind his 
 fastest nag. Old, steady, jog-trotting horses, harnessed into 
 sleighs roomy as a bed-room, and suggestive of Noah's ark, are 
 led close to farm-house doors, whence issue a squadron of chil- 
 dren, all eager for a sleigh-ride ; Charlie or Frank insisting " to 
 drive," while little Bessie, tucked away into the middle of the 
 back seat, with a nice quilted hood and grandmother's shawl on, 
 puts forth her mittened hands, beseeching to " hold the reins." 
 And so away they go, not fast or furious, though ; for old Dob- 
 bin is the staidest of animals, and wouldn't overturn his precious 
 load for worlds (of oats) not he ! And later, when the sun 
 stands high and warm, shining dazzlingly all over the brilliant 
 white landscape, great sleds laden with wood for the market 
 come, creaking, creaking, along the hardened highway ; and 
 more teams dash by, the bells jingling merrily. And so at 
 length, the whole country is awakened to fullest life and activity. 
 
 But, all this time, how was it at the farm-house on the 
 Kidge?
 
 44 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Ah, no rejoicing there ! and but little token of life where 
 there was ordinarily a stir at earliest, daybreak ! True, the white 
 smoke was curling up from the broad stacked chimney at the 
 first streak of daylight ; for the fire on the kitchen hearth had 
 not died out all the night. But there was no nice, widely- 
 shovelled path from the door; the patient kine in their stalls 
 had not been fed; Dr. Harris's yellow sleigh was under the 
 shed, and his horse stood with drooping head under the ample 
 buffalo robe. The old doctor himself was in the farm-house, 
 where Nurse Dean went fro'm bed-room to kitchen, and kitchen 
 to bed-room, with soft footsteps and hushed whispers ; while 
 Reuben sat crouched down in the corner of the wide chimney- 
 place, with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, 
 taking no heed of the flight of time or any movement about him. 
 There had he sat all the long night ; there he sat, as the dim 
 winter's dawn broke in utter silence. 
 
 All night, too, had Patience, forgetting her hoarded resent- 
 ment, busied herself with tearful eyes and willing hands, to aid 
 the sufferer who lay at Death's door before her. 
 
 When morning dawned, a little feeble cry sounded from the 
 bed-room the tiny wail of a being just ushered into a world of 
 care, and sin, and suffering and a new life was under the old 
 farm-house roof. But it was a life which must cost another, 
 a soul for which the mother's must be rendered ; for, ere the sun 
 had fairly entered on his upward career, the doctor, coming forth 
 from the bed-room, walked across the kitchen floor, put his hand 
 on Reuben's shoulder, and saicty in a kindly whisper : 
 
 " Rouse up, Reuben. She has revived a little, and asks for 
 you. Go to her ; for she can't last long ! " 
 
 Mute and pale, with compressed lips, Reuben rose and went 
 in. Mrs. Dean .came forth as he entered, and left him alone 
 with Patience and the dying girl. His sister sat beside the
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 45 
 
 hearth, holding the new-born infant in her arms. Looking then 
 upon her face, one would scarcely have known it for the hard, 
 cold face of the previous night ; for a tender compassion had soft- 
 ened and beautified every feature, and beamed from her clear, 
 dark eyes. Reuben's eyes were bright and dry. He could not 
 have shed a tear for his life ; his head throbbed with a dull, 
 heavy pain ; his step was sluggish, as he went slowly toward the 
 bed. 
 
 It was a very wan face upon the pillow ; so white, that it 
 might have seemed a statue's but for the faint quiver of the thin 
 nostrils, and the almost transparent eyelids. The long waxen 
 fingers worked convulsively together over the coverlet. At length 
 she half closed her eyes, and murmured feebly : " Reuben, Reu- 
 ben ! wont he come ? " she added despairingly. 
 
 The strong man bent over her, and lifted one pale, cold, clam- 
 my hand. 
 "Mary!" 
 
 It was all he said, but it was enough. It dissolved the icy 
 chill freezing his own heart. A few scalding tears rolled down 
 his furrowed cheeks, and dropped upon her hand. 
 
 " Reuben," and the girl opened her violet eyes, where the 
 death-shadows were fast gathering, and cast a beseeching glance 
 upon him, clasping her other hand over his " Reuben, forgive, 
 forgive ! Only say it ! " 
 
 "Mary Halpine, you wronged me deeply, you touched my 
 heart in a tender spot ; but in an hour like this it is not for one 
 mortal to withhold forgiveness from another. I forgive you, as 
 I hope to be forgiven by Him in whose sight we are all sinners." 
 And he bent his lips to the cold hands clasped about his. 
 
 " God will bless you for this when I am gone. You have 
 been kinder to me than he for whom I threw away your strong 
 true heart was. Oh, Reuben, I was very, very wicked ! " she 
 sobbed faintly.
 
 46 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Patience stepped to the bedside, with the babe in her arms. 
 Her voice quivered as she said : " There, there, Mary ; don't 
 talk of that ! It's all over now, and can't be helped. Don't 
 say another word there, don't ! 
 
 The poor girl lay very still ; but a grateM smile trembled 
 about her lips, while Patience sank down on a low chair hugging 
 the baby to her bosom, and Reuben still held the hands that 
 were getting colder. No sound broke the silence except their 
 breathings, and the ticking of the old clock outside in the 
 kitchen. The room was filled with a dim twilight, for the can- 
 dles had burned low, and the drawn curtains excluded the day- 
 light ; yet the gloom could not hide the fast-increasing pallor of 
 the dying girl's face, the strange shadows deepening over it ; 
 the fluttering, convulsive throes of the white throat, the tossings 
 of the golden head to and fro on the pillows, and the rapid work- 
 ing of her fingers tightening over Reuben's hand. Suddenly 
 she withdrew their clasp; stretched forth her hands appealingly; 
 and, unclosing her eyes lit up by a gleam of unearthly brilliancy, 
 turned their wandering gaze about the room until they fell on 
 Patience. 
 
 " My baby bring me my baby ! " she moaned. 
 
 Patience rose and laid it on the pillow close by the mother's 
 face. Mary clasped it convulsively, and drew its little cheek 
 close to her own with a caressing movement. 
 
 " Poor darling ! poor baby ! " she murmured, the tears rush- 
 ing into her eyes. " I wish you could die, too, and be laid to 
 sleep on your mother's bosom. Nobody wants you, my poor 
 baby nobody wants the child of shame ! " and with her dying 
 strength, kissing it again and again, she hugged it to her bosom. 
 Then, exhausted, she let it fall from her arms. 
 
 Patience gently replaced the babe on the pillow, then turned 
 away to wipe her eyes with the corner of her checked apron.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 47 
 
 Reuben bent over the dying girl, and whispered, huskily, " Mary, 
 fear not ! your child shall never want a father ! " 
 
 " Nor a mother, either, while Patience Wedgewood lives ! " 
 said the weeping woman, coming forward and taking up the thir 
 cold hand from the coverlet, and pressing it between her own. 
 " Mary Halpine, these five years, since you went off and left 
 Reuben so wretched like, I have been nursing up wrath against 
 you ; but the Lord in His own way, has softened my heart at 
 last. It'll be a lesson to me. "We're all poor sinful creeters ; 
 and 't isn't for either of us to set ourselves up above another and 
 say, ' I'm better than you ! ' It wasn't right of you to treat 
 Reuben in the way you did, but the Lord permitted it, and 
 what He ordains is always for the best. Poor short-sighted 
 creeters, we're too ^ipt to question His will. But it's all past and 
 gone now ; and no doubt you repented long ago ; so don't you 
 want that poor innocent baby to die for fear nobody'd be raised 
 up to take care of her, for I tell you she shall never go from 
 under this ruff if you'll give her to us." 
 
 A grateful smile hovered over the dying girl's face, and 
 her lip quivered as she turned to look upon the babe beside 
 her. 
 
 Reuben stooped down and whispered, "Yes, Mary, give us 
 your child. It shall be to us as our own. But will nobody 
 come to claim her ? Is he living ? " 
 
 " Yes," faintly murmured the poor girl, striving to crush her 
 tears ; he is living but he wont want her. It is months since 
 we parted. If he spurned the mother, he will not seek the 
 child. She is yours." Then, after lying still and exhausted a 
 few moments, she whispered brokenly : " I have been very 
 wicked, but God has been good to me. He sent me here ; I 
 know it now ; I do not fear now to leave my baby ; you will 
 take better care of her than I could. If she lives to grow up,
 
 48 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 tell her about her mother. Patience, you may have her now" 
 and she essayed to place her in her arms. 
 
 Patience bent down, kissed her cold forehead, then lifted her 
 legacy to her b.osom. The dying mother smiled, and whispered, 
 " Peace, peace I feel it now. Call my baby so, Patience. 
 She has brought peace between us, has she not ? " and she 
 threw a quick, eager glance from her face to Reuben's, " Name 
 my baby Peace." I * ; 
 
 " Yes, Mary," replied the farmer, in a husky voice. 
 
 After a few moments, he asked, " Mary, are you his wife ? " 
 
 A low moan broke from her pale lips. "I thought so 
 God is my witness, I thought so. All those years I was very 
 happy, till the time came when I knew ! I knew " ! But the 
 blush which crept over her white fape, till it died in the masses 
 of golden hair on her forehead, told what she could not utter. 
 She lay with closed eyes, and great tears coursing silently down 
 her cheeks ; and Reuben's teeth were hard set, and his 
 breathing was thick and gasping as he stood by the bedside. 
 
 Then she raised her hands to a little gold chain on her neck. 
 But her fingers failed her. Patience laid the babe down, and 
 stooped to unclasp a locket from the chairt. It yielded to the 
 pressure of her fingers ; she touched a spring, and placed the 
 opened locket in Mary's hand. There were two faces painted on 
 the ivory ; one, that of the dying girl on the pillow, every linea- 
 ment beaming with health and beauty ; the other, the hand- 
 some, manly-looking, but treacherous semblance of him who had 
 lured her to her ruin. 
 
 Mary Halpine looked at it long and earnestly, pressed it 
 passionately to her lips, then placed it in Reuben's hand : 
 " Keep it for my baby. Some day show her the faces of her 
 mother and her father ! " Then, wholly exhausted, she sunk 
 back.
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 49 
 
 At length the last moment came ; and when, hovering on the 
 verge of the Silent Land, the dying lamp of Memory flashed fit- 
 fully, she uttered rapidly and incoherently, words it thrilled her 
 listeners to hear. 
 
 Nervously working, her fingers over the coverlet, fixing her 
 large blue eyes on vacancy as if she saw a form and face they 
 could not see, she said thrillingly, in a beseeching voice : 
 
 " Augustus, Augustus, don't ask me ! I am to be Reuben's 
 wife. Don't you know they are getting ready for me at the 
 Ridge? There, hark! the bells!" gazing wildly up into 
 Reuben's face. " Wedding, bells ? No, they are tolling for my 
 darling's funeral ! Did he die t They said he was lost 
 drowned in the deep waters ! " and she clutched strongly at 
 his hands. " Do you believe my darling died ? No ; they did 
 
 * 
 
 not bury him under the willows, I couldn't find him there ! 
 I only found a longer grave all covered with snow. They 
 ,said it was my mother's ! that I killed her ! But they lied ; they 
 cheated me ! Mary always loved her mother too well to let her 
 die ! Now let us go home. I want to go jto the old cottage- 
 home and find her. Why don't you help me go and find my 
 mother ? You cruel, 'cruel man, you keep me here ! I will 
 go ! " and she started upright in bed and strove to break from 
 Reuben's hold. Then she fell back with a gasping moan. The 
 death-shadows were deepening. 
 
 " But I can't go ! The snow is deep ! so deep ! I sink ! it 
 drifts all over me ! 'Twill freeze my baby ! There, hush, 
 hush ! poor baby ! It sha'n't touch you the cold, cruel snow ! 
 Mother will keep you warm*! " and she hugged it tightly to 
 her bosom. 
 
 Suddenly the last change came. The grasp of her arms re- 
 laxed ; the babe fell back on the pillows, to be gathered to a 
 mother's breast no more. The spasmodic strength of the dying 
 
 5
 
 50 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 departed ; Death no longer lingered, but with one wave of his 
 heavy sable wings settled down over her. 
 
 " It is dark and cold," she gasped, chokingly. " O, the snow ! 
 it covers it stifles me ! Take me away f Augustus Reu- 
 ben lift me lift me higher ! therej it is warm now, and 
 clear ! I can find my way ! " and the golden head which the 
 strong man had drawn to his shoulder fell heavily against his 
 breast, the pale eyelids drooped, the breath went fluttering 
 from her white lips, and it was over ! 
 
 Mary Halpine had gone gone to " find the way ! " Gone 
 to His bosom who would not cast her out to sheltering arms 
 that would nevermore be unloosened where, thenceforth, there 
 was neither unkindness, nor sorrow, nor weeping, nor any more 
 sin! 
 
 Two days after, the drifted snows were broken, and the frozen 
 sods upturned in the grave-yard on Wood Hill ; and there was 
 a funeral at the farm-house at the Ridge. 
 
 Reuben and Patience went first behind the bier whereon lay 
 a slender coffin draped with a black pall ; and a little train of 
 neighbors, foremost among whom was Doctor Harris, wound 
 slowly to the spot where they laid Mary Halpine down to rest. 
 They lowered the coffin, and then the sexton filled in the frozen 
 clods and levelled the snow all over the grave with his spade. 
 But there was another grave made that day in Reuben Wedge- 
 wood's heart, where he had buried memories no hand could 
 henceforth stir. 
 
 And then the procession wound back to the farm-house and 
 dispersed, a few kind, motherly women lingering to hold the 
 little orphan, and talk over the sad story of the buried mother ; 
 and, as Patience sat with them by the fire, Reuben lay upon his 
 bed in his own room, with shut eyes, striving to shut Memory 
 also from his heart.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 51 
 
 But there was neither memory nor regret in the pulseless 
 heart of cold, dead Mary Halpine, in her grave beneath the 
 snows on Wood Hill ! Truly, for her : 
 
 " The quietest sleep was underneath the ground."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Her childhood put away, 
 
 She doth maintain her womanhood, in vowing love to-day. 
 O, lovely lady ! let her vow ! such lips become such vows ! 
 And fairer goeth bridal-wreath than crown with vernal brows ! 
 
 MRS. BEOWNING. 
 
 " MY wedding morning ! " and Julie Courtney drew aside 
 the folds of gossamer embr<tidery from her window and threw 
 up the sash, admitting a flood of delicious fragrance from the 
 gardens surrounding Magnolia Grove House. " Fair, clear, 
 unclouded, may it be an omen of the new life I am about to 
 enter ! " and she sank into a low toilet-chair near the window, 
 leaned her forehead on the sill, and gazed long at a small minia- 
 ture exquisitely painted on ivory the counterpart of that seen 
 in an humble New England farm-house on Maiy Halpine's 
 death-night the pictured face of Augustus Revere ! The 
 dar%-eyed Southern girl pressed rapid kisses upon it. There 
 were no eyes to scan her then. 
 
 " Best beloved," she murmured, her lips warming with a 
 bright, tender smile, " may ours be the happiest of lives ! one 
 heart, one home, a union indeed ! And may this beautiful 
 day prove an augury !" and again she swept her eye over the 
 landscape. 
 
 A clear March sun climbed the eastern heavens, flinging long, 
 lance-like rays through th catalpa trees and magnolias Avith 
 their dark glossy green leaves and the hundred flowering 
 shrubs in that luxuriant garden, mirrored himself in the blue 
 waters of Lake Pontchartrain, as a lover sees his image reflected 
 
 (52)
 
 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL., 53 
 
 in his mistress's azure eye, and sent one or two stray lines of 
 golden light through the foliage that draped the casement, to 
 quiver among the young girl's black burnished hair. 
 
 Pure, fair, and sweet, as that clear sky bending above her, 
 had Julie Courtney's life always been. Would, indeed, that no 
 clouds should fleck its brightness to the end ! And now, on the 
 dawn of a new era in her existence, no wonder that she claimed 
 the sunshine, music, and fragrance of the hour, as a happy omen. 
 Brides, standing tremblingly on the thresholds of new lives, 
 with orange-blossoms wreathing sweet young brows, hands 
 joined in. other fervid claspings, and timid feet entering the new 
 path they must henceforth tread, it is meet that such should 
 look only for sunny skies, and a pleasant journeying. And who, 
 were theirs the guerdon to read the Future's scroll, foreseeing 
 tempest-clouds darkening the way these hopeful, loving beings 
 must walk, would unfold their fate ? Surely not we ! Dream 
 on then, sweet bride ! Dream on, proud, beautiful Julia Court- 
 ney, with the warm blood of the South-land flushing thy crimson 
 cheek ! and though it may be yours to say in that future : 
 
 i 
 
 My life has been like summer skies _ 
 
 When they are fair to view ; 
 
 But there never yet were star or skies 
 Clouds might not wander through ! " 
 
 yet, from deeper shadows than passing clouds, Heaven preserve 
 thee! 
 
 Julie's reverie was broken by a slight tap at the door, and im- 
 mediately a tall black slave appeared bearing his mistress's 
 breakfast. 
 
 " Morn in', missis," he said, a broad smile displaying a surface 
 of brilliant ivory, as he placed the silver tray on the table. 
 " 'Pears like as if young Massa Revere in a mighty hurry for 
 
 5*
 
 54 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 the weddin'. He keep walkin' back and forth on the piazzy. 
 Wants to hurry old Time, I reckon, Missis ! " and, with 
 another grin and a profound bow, touching his woolly foretop, 
 he dexterously glided from the room before his mistress could 
 either frown or smile upon him for his officious remark. 
 
 The young girl approached the table where stood the tray 
 laden with an urn of fragrant Mocha, a cup and p'late of ex- 
 quisite Sevres china, a couple of tempting French rolls, golden 
 butter stamped into grapes lying on a broad, glossy palmetto 
 leaf, and a silver basket of fruit imbedded in rich foliage and 
 flowers ; but little passed her lips that morning. She hastily 
 drank a cup of the aromatic coffee ; then, rising, rang the bell. 
 Black Jupiter appeared in a twinkling, and removed the tray ; 
 and presently Minnie, the waiting-maid, a smart, bright-eyed, 
 coquettish young mulattress, entered. 
 
 " From Massa Revere," she said, presenting an elegant bridal 
 bouquet in a chastely wrought silver holder. 
 
 " Oh, beautiful, beautiful ! " exclaimed Julie, burying her 
 flushed face in the flowers. " What superb japonicas, and cape 
 jasmines, and fragrant orange-flowers ! Just Augustus's taste ! " 
 And unwinding a slip of delicate-scented note-paper from the 
 stem of a magnificent pink and white geranium blossom, she 
 read four words which sent the blood in a more tumultuous tide 
 through her veins "JFor Julie, my wife ! " 
 
 " There, eight o'clock ! It is time to dress ! Minnie, put 
 these precious flowers on the mantel and array your mistress ! " 
 she cried, as the musical tongue of an inlaid French clock 
 chimed the hour. 
 
 With a ready " Yes, Missis," the -slave-girl placed the bouquet 
 in a vase of purest Bohemian glass on the marble mantel, then 
 turned to her young mistress, who, sitting in a chair before the 
 oval silver-framed toilet mirror, was threading her delicate
 
 PEACE t OR THE STOLEN WILL. 55 
 
 fingers through the rippling waves of her long, unbraided 
 
 hair. 
 
 " " The wide Grecian braids, Minn ! You know they become 
 
 me most ; and wind them round the back of my head for the 
 
 veil to fall over." 
 
 "Yes, Missis," meekly answered Minnie, gathering up the 
 long waves sweeping Julie's white morning wrapper, and weav- 
 ing strand after strand into a broad, satin-smooth band, with 
 practised fingers. 
 
 "You see, Minnie," went on Julie, "Papa wanted me to 
 send for Monsieur Coiffure ; but I do dislike the French style 
 of hair-dressing. Yours suits me best. I shall miss you when 
 I am . married and gone ! I declare, Minn, I think you are 
 a bit selfish, to prefer stopping at home with Jupe to going along 
 with your mistress ! " and a very becoming pout sat prettily 
 on Julie's full red lips. 
 
 The invariable " Yes, Missis," with a smile disclosing two 
 polished rows of ivory, fell from the mulattress's lips. " But 
 please, Missis, when Massa Revere ask you to marry him, you 
 didn't say 'No.' And 'when Jupe come sneakin' round, 
 'specially when there's Rosa, and Delia, -and Carline, all glad to 
 get him away any day, 'pears like 'twas mighty hard to 'fuse ! " 
 and she coquetishly tossed her pretty head. " You see, Missy 
 Julie, if 'twant for Jupe teasiri' round so, I'd be mighty glad to 
 go 'long with ye to them countries over the sea ; but but " 
 
 " La, yes ; I see ! Don't stammer so, child ! " returned the 
 girl, with a smile ; for on her wedding day she could well afford 
 to banter her faithful waiting-maid. " I see how it is. Poor 
 puss ! She shall stop at home so she shall and keep 
 naughty Jupe from making love to Rosa or Delia, or any of the 
 artful jades ! I'll be generous, and forgive you, Minn ! There, 
 finish my hair quickly ! It is the last time for many months I
 
 56 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 shall call upon you. Some hired servant must take your place 
 for a season. Aren't you ashamed, though, Minn, to let your 
 mistress go on her bridal tour without you ? " 
 
 The slave-girl kept on her task till the silken waves of black 
 hair grew rapidly into wide heavy braids that she wound like a 
 coronet about her mistress's little graceful head ; but there were 
 tears in the dark diamond eyes, and at last, just as the last jew- 
 elled hair-pin was adjusted, she raised her dark hand to dash 
 away the blinding drops, and sobbed out : 
 
 " Oh, Missis, please don't think me ongrateful ! please don't ! 
 'Deed, I'll go 'long with you to the world's end, though to be 
 sure I'd rather stay on the old plantation and " 
 
 " Of course you 'd rather stop at home and marry that black 
 Jupe, you silly puss ! And I'd like to know what you're stand- 
 ing there crying for ! " cried Julie sharply, though a smile lurked 
 in the corners of her red mouth. " Who's going to prevent it, 
 I'd like to know ! Don't you suppose that, on her wedding day, 
 your mistress can afford to be magnanimous, and give you the 
 privilege of accepting your ebony lover, and of having a grand 
 wedding and being married by the minister, instead of jumping 
 over the broomstick ? Of course she can : so now, stop crying, I 
 say ! " and she stamped her little foot with pretty impatience, 
 " marry Jupe to-morrow, if you like the sooner the better, for 
 the other girls are artful jades and may get him away, you know 
 and when I come back from Europe, you shall go to New York 
 with me arid take your old place, while Jupe shall be my coach- 
 man. How does that suit, hey, Minn ? " - 
 
 " Oh thank ye, thank ye, Missy Julie ! " exclaimed the slave 
 girl, with a long-drawn sigh of relief, and eyes sparkling like 
 diamonds. " 'Pears like it's jest as I told Jupe this mornin' 
 you're allers the kindest, best missis in old Louisianny ! " 
 
 " Well, well you've been a good girl, Minnie," said Julie,
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 57 
 
 patting the head of her faithful maid. " I ought to make you 
 some amends, so I'll take you North and set you free. How 
 should you like it, child ? Suppose I should give you and Jupe 
 free papers and pay you wages ? You know at the North we 
 cannot keep servants like we do at home." 
 
 " Missis," and the slave girl stopped, and looked full in her 
 mistress's face " Missis, I've hearn tell o' them sneakin' aboli- 
 shioners goin' about like roarin' lions, stealin' slaves from their 
 masters and mistresses. Please, I'd rather not have anything to 
 say to 'em, nohow. I'd foller ye to the world's end, Miss Julie, 
 ye'r faithful servant, and the same with Jupe, I'm sure but 
 'pears like it's too hard, Missis, to be hired out like poor white 
 folks, when I'se been born and bred in yer own family, Missis, 
 and been a baby with ye. 'Deed, please, I hope you won't do it, 
 Missis Julie ! " 
 
 Something like a tear sparkled in the dark eyes which were 
 apparently intent on surveying the bridal dress lying over the 
 arm of a low sofa. 
 
 "Minnie, I shall not forget this," said Julie. "You shall 
 come with me as you like you shall never leave me. But 
 now hasten ! dress me quickly for papa hates tardiness ; be- 
 sides, those must be the guests' carriages I hear in the court." 
 
 The slave girl obeyed. The queenly form of her mistress 
 was soon arrayed in the rich satin robe covered with delicate 
 Mechlin lace ; the dainty feet were encased in snowy satin slip- 
 pers ; pearls clasped upon her rounded arms and white throat ; 
 and the heavily embroidered veil was fastened to the broad jetty 
 braids by sprays of twining myrtle and orange blossoms. Then 
 she stepped back a few paces, to contemplate admiringly the 
 effect of her skilful handiwork. Just then came a slight tap at 
 the door and Revere, faultlessly attired, entered ; while the 
 train of bridesmaids and groomsmen awaited them in the gallery
 
 58 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 without. Julie sprang forward a vivid crimson breaking over 
 her cheek. 
 
 " Is my Julie ready ? " and all a lover's devotion was infused 
 into Revere's tone and glance. " We will go below." 
 
 " My gloves and kerchief, Minnie ! " and she drew on the 
 dainty white kids, and took the gossamer fabric so daintily em- 
 broidered that it seemed like a silken cobweb traced with the 
 shadows of leaves and flowers. 
 
 " And the flowers ? Surely my gift is not forgotten ! " ex- 
 claimed Revere, presenting it gracefully. 
 
 With a smile the girl accepted the bouquet, placed her hand in 
 his arm, but stopped suddenly with a little cry. 
 
 What is it, love ? " 
 
 " Only a thorn which cruelly pierced my finger. See ! quite 
 through my glove," and she held up one taper finger discolored 
 by a little ruby drop. " Here, Minn, pluck it off it is on this 
 superb white rose. There should be no ' thorns amid the roses,' 
 for me to-day, Augustus," and her eyes sought his with a bright 
 confiding glance. " There, let us go now ! " and again she laid 
 her hand in his arm. 
 
 Why did Augustus Revere start and grow pale and a sting, 
 sharper than thorn, or dagger point, pierce his heart ? Ah, there 
 came between his vision and the dark, rich beauty of the south- 
 ern girl on his arm, a sad white face framed in masses of golden 
 hair, and haunting, reproachful eyes that almost drove him mad ! 
 Perhaps, in that hour, arose vain regrets : but it was too late. 
 The haunting gaze of those eyes would follow him evermore 
 and so he went forth to utter love-vows to another. 
 
 Along the wide upper gallery down the broad stair-case 
 against whose carven balustrades silken robes rustled travers- 
 ing the long lower hall where were ranged the house servants in 
 their holiday attire the train passed, entering the large drawing-
 
 PEACE: OR, THE STOLEN WILL. 59 
 
 room where the affable, dignified, white-haired old General 
 Courtney, came forward to receive his daughter. 
 
 Then caine the marriage service, followed by the thronging of 
 guests, kisses and congratulations ; the bridal cake and wine ; 
 the retiring of the bride to array herself in travelling robes ; the 
 clatter of horses hoofs and roll of carriage wheels in the court- 
 yard ; adieus to guests, relatives, and lastly to the old man on 
 whose bosom Julie bowed her head and shed passionate tears ; the 
 kind farewell to the congregated servants ; then the bride was 
 handed from the verandah steps to the carriage, and the wedding 
 cortege whirled away, leaving General Courtney leaning 
 against a vine-wreathed pillar looking after them with dimmed 
 eyes half-a-dozen mulatto girls, foremost among whom was 
 Minnie, standing in a group, discussing the wedding, the beauty 
 of " young missis," and the elegance of the pearl set " Massa 
 Revere," had bestowed as a bridal present dozens of heads, gray, 
 grizzly and black, peeping from behind the pillars, add a score 
 of little fat, shining picaninnies tumbling about hi the courtyard. 
 
 Then when the last guest had departed, the great house 
 seemed lonely ; General Courtney shut himself up hi his 
 library ; the long drawing-room was closed, with its scent of 
 flowers and perfumes ; Minnie, lonesome and dispirited, uttered 
 a " Go along, Jupe ! " which was almost contemptuous when he 
 ventured to speak of their own wedding, and went up to her 
 mistress's deserted room ; Rosa and Delia, whose department was 
 in the laundry, lounged about the doors, chatting with the spruce, 
 tall waiters while, in the kitchen, old Dinah bustled about, 
 "setting things to rights," one moment administering a sound 
 cuff to the "nigger" who dared intrude on her domains, the 
 next, soothing the effects of the blow with a generous slice of the 
 wedding cake on which she had especially laid herself out and 
 then, when old Joe the coachman came back at night from the
 
 60 PEACE: on THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 steamboat landing whither he had taken the wedded pair in the 
 family carriage, and, after carefully stabling the fat bays, came 
 in and topk his accustomed corner by the * kitchen fire, they sat 
 late at night, Dinah nodding her gray head with its gay turban, 
 declaring that " young missis' weddin' beat any in ole Louis- 
 anny this many a year," while the field negroes danced to the 
 banjo in the court-yard, and the young moon hung high like a 
 silver shield, and the whole landscape snowy magnolia tree 
 and cotton field, sparkling lake and flowering earth lay fair and 
 still below. 
 
 And that night, too, while the fair moon climbed the skies, on 
 the deck of a noble Southern steamer, the fair bride sat and wove 
 her dreams of happiness ; while Augustus Revere was silent at 
 her side. What thoughts, in that hour, were busy at his heart- 
 strings ? 
 
 And in the quiet evening, too, in a far away New England 
 farm-house, where the moonlight fell softly in through the small 
 window-^panes upon an old fashioned wooden cradle where an 
 infant lay in its slumbers, Patience Wedgewood, pausing in her 
 knitting, bent fondly over the babe and said to the man who sat 
 beside the kitchen fire, " Blessed baby ! Reuben, she will fill 
 poor lame Katy's place in our hearts ! " Then, snapping her 
 needle afresh at the commencement of another " round," .-lie 
 sighed, " Dear, dear ! I've been thinking about poor Mary Hal- 
 pine to-night. I wonder where that wicked Revere is ? Seems 
 to me, the Lord'll never let such wickedness as this go unpun- 
 ished ! "
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 I do but bee a little changeling boy, 
 To be my henchman. 
 
 MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DPEAM. 
 
 TWELVE years passed away evenly and quietly at the Ridge. 
 Save for the silver that settled on the gray locks peeping out 
 from Patience's cap, and the wrinkles that seamed Reuben's 
 dark brow, the recurrence of seed-time and harvest, and the 
 transformation of little Peace the child of their adoption from 
 a wee babe to a beautiful girl of twelve summers, there was little 
 change at the farm-house. 
 
 In the pleasant summer-time the white roses and sweet briar 
 bloomed as of old about the casement ; the morning-glories 
 trailed along the stone wall and garden fence ; the garden was 
 gay with stately holly-hocks, pink and white sweet peas, beds of 
 sweet- Williams and scarlet verbena ; tall, regal prince's-feather 
 waved patronizingly over modest heart's-ease and mignonette 
 blossoming below ; ladies'-slipper coquettishly bloomed in saucy 
 proximity to old-man's-beard ; and love-in-a-snarl and old maid's 
 pinks, somehow, were always found in the immediate vicinity 
 of plain, grave-looking bachelors'-buttons, who, by the way, 
 invariably disdainfully refused to return the nodding and cour- 
 tesying advances of the antique sisterhood. 
 
 Aunt Patience's garden was the pride of the Ridge ; nor was 
 it devoted to the ornamental alone. There were nice beds of 
 summer-savory and spearmint, tufts of Avormwood, saffron and 
 camomile, sage, rue, and balm ; not an herb in the long cate- 
 
 6 (61)
 
 62 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 gory which country dames hold good " in sickness," or for " sea- 
 soning," was wanting there. 
 
 When winter came round, there was snow and sleet and cold 
 without ; drifts covered the garden-beds ; the paths were blocked 
 up ; long icicles were pendent from the old brown eaves where 
 the swallows built their nests in the spring agone ; the windows 
 were painted with frost-pictures. But though neither flowers 
 nor greenery nor warmth held sway outside the old farm-house 
 those long northern winters, joy and comfort, and one fair flower, 
 brightened the hearth-stone within. 
 
 It was beautiful to see how little Peace had shrined herself in 
 those hearts of erst so lonely. Day by day, as her little form 
 developed into more perfect childish grace, and her golden 
 curls lengthened on her white dimpled shoulders, she came to 
 fill that void in their affections made years before, when poor 
 lame Katy died ; and even as she had become necessary to the 
 happiness of the brother and sister, so throughout all Meadow 
 Brook was she beloved and caressed. 
 
 Peace was much as her mother had been. Perhaps the child's 
 features were not so regularly beautiful ; but there was more of 
 character in. their stronger outline. Her eyes were not so soft 
 and dreamy, but they had a rare sparkle of spirit and intelli- 
 gence. Her long golden hair, and lithe, tall, slender form, was 
 the counterpart of one now mouldering under the green sods of 
 Wood Hill. 
 
 Possessing robust health, and an exuberant affectionate gay- 
 ety of manner which had never been tamed by sorrow or re- 
 straint, the girl was the light of the farm-house. There were 
 the wildest of romps with old Bruno and innumerable pet kit- 
 tens ; depredatory excursions for turkeys' eggs in the long barn ; 
 and when Uncle Reuben led the old white horse to the wooden 
 watering-trough, Peace dearly loved to stroke his face, and, fol-
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 63 
 
 lowing him back to the stall, hold him long wisps of hay to eat 
 frgm her hand. Then there were such glorious rides on the 
 hay-carts ! such climbing of cherry trees ! such gatherings of 
 golden russets and cherry-cheeked Baldwins ! and rambles in the 
 autumn woods, to gather walnuts, listen to the woodpeckers' 
 drumming call in the trees, or watch the cunning little squirrels 
 peeping so shyly down upon her through the high branches, 
 chattering playfully, and then, with a whisk of their bushy tails, 
 darting away ! 
 
 But the girl loved best to sit on Reuben's knee in the long 
 whiter evenings and wind her white arms about his neck with a 
 kiss on his brown furrowed cheek ; or listen to the nursery tales 
 Aunt Patience recounted, how little " Red Riding Hood " 
 .went forth on her mission of mercy to the poor old grandmother, 
 and fell a victim to the ravening wolf, how fated " Cock 
 Robin " met an untimely end, and the poor " Babes in the 
 Woods " lay down from their wanderings and were covered with 
 leaves by the dear little birds ; or, bringing her books and slate, 
 to read and cipher, while Uncle Reuben played school-master, 
 and Patience, pausing in her spinning or knitting, listened in 
 rapt admiration to the ready scholar. 
 
 But another member had been added to the family at the 
 Ridge. Chip "Weed how shall I describe him ? A tall, thin, 
 long-armed, freckled, " tow-headed," quaint, half-witted boy, of 
 some seven or eight years, who, when little Peace had numbered 
 six summers, presented himself one fine morning in June at the 
 open door of the farm-house, and, in the queerest shrill, squeak- 
 ing, treble voice, and with a comical assumption of gravity on 
 his sharp quizzical features, asked Reuben Wedgewood if he 
 wanted " to hire ! " 
 
 The farmer looked up from the breakfast table as that little 
 shadow fell aslant the doorway, and that thin treble voice cut the
 
 64 PEACE: on THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 air, and beheld a head surmounted by an old torn hat peering 
 wistfully in upon them. 
 
 A smile broke over his dark, sun-burned features, as the ques- 
 tion was repeated ; Patience lowered her fork which was con- 
 veying a choice bit of ham to her mouth ; while little Peace 
 looked wonderingly from behind her bright pewter mug at the 
 outre figure which, clad in a curious mixture of man's and boy's 
 apparel, a long, swallow-tailed coat, minus half " the appen- 
 dages," trousers of homespun stuff, and a ragged felt hat, 
 stood gazing alternately at the group about the breakfast table 
 and the smoking viands upon it. 
 
 " What a funny thing ! Is it a boy, or little old man ? " she 
 whispered. 
 
 But Patience did not reply ; for she evidently was quite as 
 much mystified as the child concerning their strange visitor, 
 who, in answer to a "Come in" from Reuben, lifted his bare 
 feet over the threshold, removed his hat, and with a queer bow 
 and a sort of uncouth grace, thrust his little lean body into a 
 chair close by. 
 
 " Well, sir, and so you want to let yourself, you say ? " asked 
 Reuben, striving to repress a laugh. But the boy did not 
 answer, apparently not hearing the query, but sat staring at 
 Peace with his little, dim, squinting, blue eyes. 
 
 " Come, come ; speak up, sir," Where'd you come from ? " 
 
 The nondescript started from his blank staring reverie. A 
 cunning leer deepened about his mouth and twinkled in his lit- 
 tle eyes. 
 
 " He, he ! " he laughed, pointing with one long bird's-claw 
 finger down the -white, dusty highway, nodding his head the 
 while ; " He, he, he ! Run away from over there, sir ; been 
 livin' there. Couldn't keep me any longer ; nobody stays. I 
 wouldn't, either ! Made me work like a nigger pick taters,
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEX WILL. 65 
 
 pull weeds, starve everybody over there ; guess they wont 
 ever catch me again ! " and with a gesture of determination, 
 poking the crown of his hat vigorously, he s'ettled back in his 
 chair. 
 
 " A pauper, run away from Elton poor-house most likely," 
 said Patience to her brother. 
 
 " So I reckon," was the reply. " They do work 'em like 
 slaves over there, children and all, I've heard say, almost starv- 
 ing 'em into the bargain. Poor thing ! give him some breakfast ; 
 he looks as though he hadn't eaten for a week." 
 
 Patience heaped a plate from the bountifully supplied table 
 and placed a chair. " Come, sit up, and help yourself, Tom, 
 Dick, Harry what's your name ? " asked Mr. Wedgewood, 
 rising from the table. 
 
 " Chip Chip Weed. I likes it best the way Bill Green 
 writes it on his slate at school, with a tail to it E-s-q. that's 
 for 'Squire, you know, same as 'Squire Hardy spells his'n," 
 and the boy cast another cunning leer from his little, dim, blue 
 eyes, as he seated himself at the table and began cramming his 
 mouth with food. 
 
 "The Lord!" exclaimed Patience with uplifted hands; "he's 
 a half-wit ! " while Reuben smiled, and little Peace slid down 
 from her high chair, and going up close where he' sat, at the 
 north window, whispered, gleefully, "Ain't he funny, Uncle 
 Reuben ? do see him eat ; ain't he most starved ? " 
 
 " I should think so, pet," was the reply, lifting her into his 
 lap ; then Mr. Wedgewood smilingly watched the boy who 
 voraciously devoured his food, casting between mouthfuls earn- 
 est, almost wondering glances, at the little girl. 
 
 " Well, brother, did you ever ? " exclaimed Patience, who had 
 stood with hands folded over her wide checked apron during the 
 progress of the meal, till the boy at length rose from the table, 
 6*
 
 66 . PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 leaving his plate clean and polished, so literally had he obeyed 
 the injunction to ' help himself.' " Did you ever, Reuben ? " 
 
 A compassionate smile was her answer. " Well, Mr. Chip 
 Weed, Esq., if you've satisfied the ' inner man,' we'll proceed to 
 business now," he said facetiously. 
 
 Chip, meantime, had taken his old seat by the door and lifted 
 his torn hat from the floor, and now sat thumbing its well worn 
 brim, staring straight at the little girl peeping shyly yet 
 curiously from her hiding place on Reuben's shoulder. Taking 
 no notice of the farmer's words, but removing his eyes for a mo- 
 ment to Patience's face, he squeaked out shrilly, pointing to 
 Peace, " Is she an angel, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Yes, /think so," replied Reuben fondly, while Peace laughed 
 outright, then hid her face ; but the spinster looked gravely 
 through her glasses, and said, "No, that is our little girl Peace. 
 But what made you ask such a question, Chip ? " 
 
 " Oh, becos I seed a picter of one once, in old granny White's- 
 big Bible, over there," pointing his finger down the highway ; 
 "and she looks jest like it so kind o' white and soft, like 
 cotton-wool ; but if she ain't an angel, she's putty nigh one, I 
 vum ! ' and he gave the old hat an emphatic poke. " If you're 
 a little gal, you're an uncommon nice one, any how ! " And he 
 nodded patronizingly towards Peace, and again uttered that 
 shrill, chuckling laugh, unlike anything human the dwellers of 
 the farm-house had ever heard before. 
 
 " Well, well, let us talk about business! " said Reuben. " What 
 can you do to make yourself useful ? " 
 
 " Hey ? " said the boy, in his highest key, as if not compre- 
 hending the query. 
 
 " What can you do ? " repeated Mr. Wedgewood. 
 
 " Work ? hey ? " and Chip brightened up, chattering volubly 
 and shrilly " Why, I cuts wood, fetches water, feeds the pigs,
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 67 
 
 drives the cows, and does lots of everything. Done heaps, over 
 there. ' Twas ' Chip, come here ! ' and ' Run, you lazy dog ! ' and 
 ' Scoot, you nigger ! '" every sentence uttered with a grimace 
 and vigorous indentation of the felt hat-crown. " And so, at 
 last, I ups and runs away ;-* couldn't stand so much, ye 
 see ! " 
 
 " Oh, uncle, how he bends that old hat up ! See what funny 
 fingers ! just like the old speckled hen's feet so long and 
 crooked ! " broke in Peace. 
 
 " Then you would like to come and live here, and do chores, 
 Chip ? Hey, pet," pinching her cheeks, " would you let 
 him?" 
 
 " yes, do ! he's so funny ! " exclaimed the delighted child ; 
 " he's so funny ! and I guess he's clever, and wont strike old 
 Cherry, and ' hurrup' her along, as Johnny Sanders does, when 
 she stops just to bite a mouthful of grass. Are you real good to 
 cows ? " she asked, sliding down from Reuben's arms and going 
 up to the boy. 
 
 " Wall, yes I guess so," replied Chip, gazing with admiring 
 reverence at the little girl's pink cheeks and long curls ; " you 
 see, if cows only know what's what, and don't hook, or run off, 
 and bother me " 
 
 " Oh, but Cherry is the best mooly cow you ever saw ! " broke 
 in Peace. " She'll let me touch her face, or horns, with my 
 hand ; and when Aunty milks, she stands just as still as a mice 
 and don't kick a mite ! " 
 
 " Well, pet, that'll do for now ; I guess we'll keep him. Chip, 
 you can stay, I reckon." 
 
 Patience now came forward. " For gracious' sake, what are 
 you doing, brother Reuben ? What are we to do with a natural 
 under our ruff ? Why, he'll be more plague 'n profit ! " 
 " Jest what they said over there, ma'am ! " briskly ejaculated
 
 bO PEACE : OK THE STOiEN WILL. 
 
 the boy, looking up into her face with such a comical expression 
 of cunning and good-humor that the spinster was almost won 
 over, spite of herself. " That's jest what they said every day !" 
 and he nodded between each word. 
 
 " No, no, sister, let us keep him. I've taken quite a fancy to 
 the lad. He seems willing and handy, and you need somebody 
 to do the chores." 
 
 "But for mercy's sake, get somebody that'll be of some 
 airthly use ; don't, Reuben, bring a half-wit into the house, 
 and such a looking object, too ! " and she pursed up her lips, and 
 began clearing up the breakfast things in silence. 
 
 " O, I'll risk that, Patience ! To be sure, he don't look re- 
 markably handsome ; but when we get him out of his rags and 
 into a good, strong, clean suit, he'll look like another boy. Be- 
 sides " 
 
 " Ma'am," broke in the boy, eyeing Patience with a grin, 
 "'Handsome is that handsome does,' so old granny White 
 says ; " and he uttered his short, shrill laugh. " Don't look very 
 nice now, but can slick up, you know. This ain't my Sunday- 
 hat got a new straw one over there left it, though," and 
 he twisted the ragged brim quite out of an apology for 
 shape. 
 
 Patience laughed now how could she help it ? and Eeuben 
 continued 
 
 " Besides, as I was going to say, he amuses Peace ; so I 
 guess we'd better conclude to keep him, sister. He's been ne- 
 glected and ill-treated that's evident enough. You'll find him 
 useful about the house, I'll warrant. Let him stay, and I'll ride 
 over to Elton town-farm to-morrow, and if he belongs there 
 get him bound out to me. They're overrun with paupers, and'll 
 be glad to' get one off their hands, I reckon. But come, my 
 lad," taking up his hat, " come out doors ; I want to see how
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 69 
 
 smart you are ! " and with a kiss on Peace's cheek and a cheer- 
 ful " good-morning, sister," he went out, followed by the 
 boy. 
 
 So it happened that the poor, quaint, half-witted, friendless 
 orphan boy, Chip Weed, was "bound out" to Reuben Wedge- 
 wood, and thenceforth became a fixture at the Kidge.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How she moved 
 
 In her young beauty round him, with a tone 
 Which to his old ear seemed that voice beloved, 
 The low, sweet accents of his long-lost one. 
 
 WHITTIEB. 
 
 IN six years Chip had become right-hand man at the Eidge. 
 Grown taller, less awkward, but still quaint and original in his 
 sayings and doings, always chattering volubly hi his piping 
 voice in doors and out, to Aunt Patience, Peace, Mr. Wedge- 
 wood, the hired help, and the neighbors, he had become well- 
 known as a harmless, droll, "queer genius," such an eccen- 
 tricity as almost every country neighborhood possesses within its 
 limits. At the Ridge farm he was thoroughly domesticated; 
 and if ever master's interests were those of the servant, then 
 were Reuben's the boy's, for he performed every duty with 
 an alacrity that showed " his will was to do it." 
 
 To be sure,. Chip had his troubles and trials. Never was 
 there happiness unalloyed, career ever victorious. Napoleon 
 had his Waterloo, Caesar his Rubicon, Persia her Marathon, 
 Sparta her Thermopylae, and Chip his defeats. Neither by 
 fire or sword, famine or pestilence, were these repulses effected ; 
 still they came. 
 
 To use his own phrase, he was " pestered to death " half the 
 time. Sometimes those villanous thieves, the crows, hovered 
 over the corn-fields and laid long ranks of tender blades in 
 ruins ; and then Chip stormed, and vowed vengeance, and made 
 up hideous " scare-crows," and hung pieces of shining tin across 
 
 (70)
 
 PEACES OR THE STOLEN WILL. 71 
 
 i ; Peace, meantime, suggesting slyly, that for frighten- 
 purposes no other image was needed than the figure of the 
 tall uncouth boy himself, which proposal, though listened to with- 
 out a dissenting voice on his part, somehow was never adopted ; 
 sometimes the old wether, encountering him in the " sheep pas- 
 ture," waged a war which generally ended in the rout of the 
 assaulted party and a retreat over fence or stone wall ; then, 
 often, the " black cow " quite a different quadruped so far as' 
 tractability was involved, from Peace's favorite " Cherry," 
 had a perverse talent of testing the comparative merits of ' horns 
 versus* fences,' or, in other words, proved "breachy," on which 
 occasions Chip's long limbs were put in requisition to scour the 
 pastures and bring the truant home ; and yet the lad lost his 
 temper in no instance on record save one, when, after a longer 
 trip than usual, he returned with the refractory animal " hob- 
 bled " and upon " putting up the bars " of the yard where he 
 had fastened her, he was heard to give utterance to something 
 very like a profane expletive, with an accompanying wish that 
 " the plaguy critter was dead, and in heaven ! " 
 
 " Why, Chip," exclaimed Peace who stood in the shed door, 
 "You're real wicked! You swore, and I'll tell Uncle Reuben. 
 Besides, cows don't go to heaven when they die, they hav'nt got 
 souls." 
 
 " Well, darn it that ain't swearing, anyhow," replied the boy 
 in triumph. " I don't care ! The plaguy critter pesters me most 
 to death. And I don't believe I swore, either ; I only said 
 strong talk to her. You see, Miss Peace, faint quite so easy 
 hunting up runaway cows ; and when I do catch her, I allers talks 
 up smart to her, and calkalates she'll remember it next time." 
 
 " But does she, Chip ? " asked Peace with a laugh. 
 
 " Lord, no ! " he replied, sitting down on the old chopping- 
 block in the yard, and poking his bare feet among the chips
 
 72 PEACE: on THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " She's jest the wust beast in town. T'dont do an 
 jaw her all you can. She's got the poorest remembrance I ever 
 seed. Now you jest whip a dog, and he'll behave like a gentle- 
 man ; but old Smut, the uglier you be, she follers suit. She ups 
 and runs away agin. 'Tain't no use, anyway ! " 
 
 Then there were other troubles. Often the old gobbler took 
 the inflammatory idea into his head, that the sanguinary hue of 
 Chip's red flannel shirt was ominous of evil to the queen of his 
 harem who went forth with stately steps at the head of her brood, 
 and then followed sundry shrill cries and flapping of wings, and 
 " fell swoops " on the boy's devoted head ; but from such encoun- 
 ters he usually came off victorious. 
 
 But not to out-of-door-dom was Chip's orbit confined. Within 
 the domestic sphere he rendered himself useful. Indeed, it was 
 quite wonderful how many pails of water were needed from the 
 old well ; how the piles of hickory and maple for firing were 
 kept constantly replenished in the wood-shed ; and what a con- 
 stant call for " Chip ! " " Chip ! " fell from Patience's lips. Nor, 
 while the lad was rendering himself so useful to others, had lie 
 neglected himself. In his way, he was getting to be something 
 of a scholar ; for the winter months found him at the district 
 school, where, besides proving an invaluable treasure for the 
 boys in the shape of a good-humored target for all their tricks 
 and practical jokes, he had managed to read through the " Second 
 Book," spell promptly and shrilly above half-a-dozen bigger 
 boys ; and scrawl a few uncouth hieroglyphics, designated as 
 'writing,' in his copy book which was his pride as it was the es- 
 pecial delight of the whole school. And on long winter even- 
 ings, when Peace brought forth -her books and sat at the round 
 table by the kitchen fire, Chip came also with his spelling book, 
 or slate on which he did sums in Simple Addition, or dashed off 
 rapidly and with immense capital letters, his name, with the af-
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 73 
 
 fixed abbreviation to which he still clung with affectionate tena- 
 city " Chip Weed, Esq." 
 
 In the household, he also manifested a decided talent for what 
 is now denominated" the " Partingtonian " style of conversation; 
 only that, in those days, our popular myth, the dear old Dame, 
 with her "doings and sayings," had not nourished, consequently 
 her fame could not have reached the precincts of Meadow Brook. 
 Never a high-sounding, euphonious word was uttered in his 
 presence, but, by some inserted, perverted, or newly-coined sylla- 
 ble, Chip endeavored to improve on the original. In his insa- 
 tiate desire to exercise his talent for cookery, this propensity 
 most prevailed. Did Patience concoct pies or puddings, he 
 knew all the required " ingrediences ; " did she mix sour milk 
 biscuit, he ran for the saleratus to " resolve ; " did she brew ginger 
 beer, he gave his opinion of the exact quantity of " emptyings " 
 requisite for the beverage to " efferment,; " and so his ludicrous 
 blunders furnished ample scope for the risibilities of the house- 
 hold. 
 
 Peace was " an angel " still in the boy's estimation ; a being 
 of a superior order, to be worshipped afar off; and it was quite 
 touching oft-times to witness the simple, but beautiful proofs of 
 his devotion. Did a snow-storm whirl over the bold hills that 
 environed Meadow Brook, next day when the ways were trod- 
 den, Chip brought out his sled with strong white ash " stouters," 
 and folding a soft buffalo skin for a cushion seated Peace there- 
 on like a little queen clad in her royal red cloak and hood bor- 
 dered with swans' down, then drew her carefully and swiftly to 
 the old red school-house on. the hill ; did the mill-pond freeze 
 over hard and glassy, he gave her sftch nice slides ; in spring he 
 culled her bouquets of wild-flowers fantastically arranged, picked 
 checkerberries where they grew large and red at the bottom of 
 Sweet Fern Hill, and brought the hang-bird's long, purse-like 
 
 7
 
 74 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 nests, with such cunning little mottled eggs in them ; in summer 
 he culled fruit and berries from the pastures, 'waded through 
 brooks to get the shining silver leaf and splendid crimson cardi- 
 nal flowers from opposite banks, and when he went with Reuben 
 in the large ox-team to the distant sea-shore to bring loads of 
 long, wet, brown sea-weed for farm " dressing," gathered shells 
 and sand rattles, and culled the little oval berries from the matted 
 weeds to string into bracelets for her dimpled arms ? and in 
 autumn he roved the woods for nuts, entrapped some unwary 
 red squirrel, or tamed the wild rabbit for her pet. So, in a hun- 
 dred ways, did the quaint half-witted boy show his devotion to 
 the beautiful child. 
 
 But Peace was getting to be a tall girl now. Twelve sum- 
 mers had deepened the gold of her hair to a pale burnished 
 brown, and added a darker hue to her violet eyes. She was no 
 longer the child, content with spending hours at romps with old 
 Bruno ; sliding over the ice, holding Chip's hand ; sitting on 
 Reuben's knee, or, hanging about Patience's neck listening to 
 nursery tales. Not that she was less affectionate than of old ; on 
 the contrary she grew more tender and thoughtful for her dear 
 protectors ; and Patience had a sort of pride in watching her 
 quiet, graceful movements, and the farmer would stop in reading 
 his paper to stroke her curly head, or ask a kiss from the " little 
 woman " who had brought him his glasses and slippers, and 
 pushed his arm-chair up to the fire-place. And now, often of 
 evenings, she sat over her books, and the school-master " drop- 
 ped in " to show her a little about some hard lesson for Peace 
 was the pride of the district school ; while Patience paused in 
 her knitting to peer through^her glasses at the books whose lore 
 Peace acquired so rapidly, wondering that " one small head could 
 carry all she knew." 
 
 Ah, the district school ! what memories rise before us now of
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 75 
 
 
 
 those days when we, too, turned our childish feet thither ! of the 
 old school-house, its wooden desks whittled by the boys' jack- 
 knives ; the tall desk where " the master " sat behind a pile of 
 copy books with a pen over his ear ; the blackboard and maps 
 on the white-washed walls ; the names carved on the window- 
 casings ; the water-pail on the bench in the corner ; the win- 
 dows, where on long summer afternoons the flies buzzed and 
 bumped their heads, and the dust-mottled bars of sunlight length- 
 ened in over the slant benches ; the sandy play-ground before 
 the door, where the little girls hunted " for pins " at recess, or 
 played " Puss, puss in the corner ; " the shady nook under the 
 elm in the corner of the yard, where the elder ones brought out 
 their books to study, loath for the rap which called them in. 
 
 And the scholars, too ! There were half-a-dozen tall boys 
 taller than the master, even who came after 'planting,' and 
 ' haying,' and in the winter-time, doing sums in Cube and Square 
 Root in .Adams's Arithmetic, and, that finished, diving into the 
 mysteries of Surveying, and Day's Algebra ; filling the black- 
 boards with equations where ' X equalling the unknown power,' 
 and ' plus ' and ' minus ' mingled together in (to us) most inex- 
 tricable confusion ; a class of great girls, who sat on the " back 
 seat," and wore their hair " done up," and " rosettes," and wrote 
 compositions and studied Chemistry, rattling off with glib tongues 
 formidable phrases about ' oxygen ' and ' nitrogen ' and ' carbonic 
 acid gas,' and flirted with the above mentioned tall boys, or " the 
 master," even, if he were some young, handsome college student, 
 at noons, by the wayside, at evening sleigh-rides or singing- 
 schools. 
 
 Then occurred the Annual " Exhibition," when we trimmed 
 the old school-house with plaited oak leaves and winter-green ; 
 and " the Committee," with a host of visitors, parents, friends 
 and neighbors, honored us with their presence while the stereo-
 
 76 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 * 
 
 typed performances went on recitations, dialogues, and decla- 
 mations in one of which latter exercises, one little bright, smart 
 lame fellow " brought down the house " by purposely rendering 
 a hackneyed quotation" : 
 
 " You'd scarce expect me, on one leg, 
 To speak in public on the stage," etc. 
 
 Such long morning walks by grassy shady road sides, conning 
 our lessons as we sauntered along ! such satchels, heavily laden 
 with apples and doughnuts for dinner ! such " noonings " in the 
 deserted school-house, or under the great oak in the forest be- 
 hind, where the waters of the " Boiling Spring " bubbled up clear 
 and sweet from the bank beneath, and the shining minnows 
 darted through the . brook, and the foliage-shadows quivered ! 
 Oh those dear old scenes, those dear old days, they can never 
 come to us again for, alas, we can " never be twice a child ! " 
 
 But back from our digression. 
 
 While little Peace sat at her studies, her golden curls sweep- 
 ing the open book pages, Reuben Weclgewood, apparently poring 
 over the advertisements or the ' weekly market ' in his paper, or 
 dozing in his arm-chair with half-shut eyes, was thinking of days 
 in the long gone past when that fair girl's mother had been all 
 the world to him. Since the time when the child has been added 
 to the farm-house, there has been a great change in him. He 
 did hot go about, moody, or sad, as formerly ; but a quiet he had 
 not known in the days succeeding his great trial had come to 
 liim. But he spoke little of the dead. His strong, true, but 
 delicate heart did not permit him to drag forth his sorrow from 
 its hiding-place and handle it over ; but he went often, and kept- 
 long vigils beside a grave on Wood Hill, by night, when the 
 dark pines and firs shivered in the sobbing winds, or the summer 
 moonlight, sifting through their branches, shadowed the sod.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 77 
 
 Had this man been born under more fostering circumstances, 
 and with the advantages of an education and culture, he might 
 have been what Nature certainly intended him for, what God 
 gave him those fine feelings and impulses of a tender heart for 
 a poet ; as it was, he was but a plain, home-spun farmer. 
 
 First a shy, bashful youth, then, in his early manhood, de- 
 voting his energies to the all-absorbing sacred task of redeeming 
 the homestead of his fathers, so years had passed ; and when, 
 later, he began to think of another life, sweetened by dearer do- 
 mestic ties, then came that blow which almost seared his heart. 
 
 And now, with the frosts of over fifty winters in his hair, what 
 was he ? A prematurely old, weary man, who quietly and pa- 
 tiently went about his daily toils, whose life was only bright- 
 ened by one sunbeam, little Peace, whose saddest, yet hap- 
 piest moments, were passed beside a grave. 
 
 Is Uncle Reuben alone with his " dead Past ? " 
 
 Walks not among us to day many another, whose heart is a 
 tomb, where the dead are kept in an inner cell over whose shut 
 door is written " Precious ? " a broken vase, where " the scent 
 of the roses will cling round it still ? " an unstrung lute, whose 
 riven cords can never be gathered up save by pale fingers reach- 
 ing downward from the Invisible Land ? a moaning sea, upon 
 whose lone shore waves break with one sad burthen " It might 
 have been ? " 
 
 7*
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " The good die first ; 
 
 But they whose hearts are dry as summer dust 
 Burn to the socket." 
 
 AT last there came a sad day at the Ridge. Aunt Patience 
 had a fall upon the ice in the previous winter, of which she 
 never recovered ; and, when the next autumn came, she grew 
 much worse. Herbs, potions, and mixtures were of no avail, 
 and so another winter dragged hopelessly by ; and when early 
 spring came round with soft airs, wasted by a slow, lingering 
 fever she lay pale, helpless, and very weak upon her bed ; and 
 as the warmer days came, they brought no strength for the suf- 
 ferer, but she grew paler and weaker instead 4 ; and one after- 
 noon, when the doctor had been with her longer than usual, and 
 gone away with a grave shake of his gray head, and Reuben 
 came out from his sister's bedroom with tears in his eyes, Pa- 
 tience asked in a faint voice for Peace. 
 
 " I want to talk with you, dear," she said slowly, taking the 
 girl's little soft, warm hand between her own withered chilly 
 ones. "I've been telling Reuben how hard it'll be to leave 
 Mm; but, my poor girl, who'll look after you when old Aunt 
 Patience is gone ? But there ! don't cry, dear ! " for Peace, to 
 ' whom the probability of death had never before presented itself, 
 had buried her face in the pillow, sobbing as though her heart 
 would break, "don't take on so, darlin'! we've all got to go 
 sooner or later ; and if we're only ready, it don't matter much 
 when. I hope the Lord'll have mercy on me ! I've tried to do 
 His will as well as a poor human creeter can ; I've done my 
 
 (78)
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 79 
 
 best to be faithful to Reuben and you, Peace ; but we're all 
 poor short-sighted creeters, and the best of us come short. Don't 
 take on so, dear ! You must be brave, and cheer up Reuben 
 when I'm gone ; " and she spoke huskily. " Reuben, come 
 in ! " for the faithful brother, unwilling to leave her, hovered 
 near the bedroom door, " come here, and try to comfort this 
 poor, dear child ! " 
 
 Reuben obeyed ; took Peace in his arms, and sat down by the 
 bedside. The pale woman lay quiet for a little time. At length, 
 when Peace was calmer, she spoke. 
 
 " Peace, I've got something to say to you, and p'raps I'd best 
 now. Go, dear, and bring me my bead bag from the upper 
 drawer : you'll find the key in a wine-glass in the cupboard. 
 Reuben, fix the pillows a little." And she sat up in bed, -very 
 pale. 
 
 The work-bag was brought, and her fingers trembled in loosen- 
 ing the strings. 
 
 " Child, it's all yours : I've been savin' it up for you," she said, 
 as she took out a roll of bank-bills, and a little bag of coin fell 
 out on the coverlet. " I thought all along, while I've been 
 savin' this " 
 
 " O, Aunt Patience ! I don't want anything, if you've got to 
 die and leave me ! " sobbed the child, hiding her face on Reu- 
 ben's shoulder. 
 
 The sick woman sighed, and fondly passed her shrivelled hand 
 over the weeper's curls. 
 
 " Don't, don't, darlin' ! " she said faintly. " I must talk with 
 you now. Everybody's got to die. The longest life is but a 
 span, the Bible says ; and it's . true. It don't seem but a little 
 while since I was young as you : I warn't but five year older, 
 when my mother died. Sixty years don't seem so very long, 
 after all ; but yet I've lived longer than a good many do sixty-
 
 80 TEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL.^ 
 
 two years! But Peace, what I wanted to tell you is tSis : 
 After I'n> gone, it'll be lonesome for you ; and if Reuben gets 
 somebody to take care o' things, a housekeeper, to fill v my 
 place," and here the old lady's voice broke down, " if it 
 should happen so, by and by maybe, he'll be willin' to part with 
 you a little while ; and then you can go away to school." 
 
 "But I don't want to go to school!* I wont leave Uncle 
 Reuben ! " and Peace sobbed afresh. " I never'll go away and 
 leave him ! " 
 
 "Hush, darlin' ! You needn't go away unless Reuben's will- 
 ing, and you want to ; but you wont always be a little girl, and, 
 when you grow up, I want you to know more'n poor old Aunt 
 Patience ever did. People thought more o' work than books 
 when I was young ; but I want you te have a good eddication. 
 Sometime, maybe, you'll get tired o' stayin' at home ; and then, 
 if you have book larnin', you can go away and keep school, or 
 do something else. Young folks likes to be independent, and 
 airn something for themselves, even if there's no need on't ; and 
 so, thinks I long ago, even though we shall always treat you as 
 our own child, and some day the property'll go to you, yet p'raps 
 you'd see it in the same light. So you see that's what I saved 
 up this for. Farmin' folks don't often have ready money by 
 'em ; but when we got the place paid up for, Reuben and I 
 I kept on spinnin' and weavin' 'cause I got in the way on't, 
 and laid by my airnin's, for I'd no use for 'em myself. Poor 
 little lame Katy ! she was dead ; and I don't know as I should 
 a had heart to work, or anythin', but, somehow, it seemed to me 
 then that the Lord would fill her place. And He did : He sent 
 you ; and then I felt as if I'd got somebody to live and work for. 
 And I believe it was the best way, too. The Lord puts every- 
 body on the airth to be busy. some one thing, and some an- 
 other ; some to get married, and have happy families grow up
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 81 
 
 
 
 about 'em, and some to live lonely, desolate lives," and in that 
 moment the pale old lady thought of the desolation of her own 
 loveless years, " but, after all, His way is best. Maybe, if I'd 
 had a house and home and chiPlen of my own, I should a forgot 
 my duty to you, brother, and to poor lame Katy. I've tried 
 hard to be a good sister to you, and p'raps I haven't wholly 
 failed have I, Reuben ? The best fall short sometimes. I know 
 you'll miss me ; and you wont forget me ! " she added with 
 glistening eyes. " But there ! I wont dwell on that. I want to 
 talk about Peace. By and by she'll get beyond the district 
 school ; and then she'd better go over to Nortlifield to the Semi- 
 nary. That's what I saved this for. Here, Reuben, take it, 
 and lay it away for that. There's jest three hundred dollars, 
 all aimed with my own hands, at the wheel and the loom, and 
 in the dairy ; and it must eddicate Peace. I hope you'll be a 
 good child to Reuben, dear ! You'll be all he has to comfort 
 him ; you always was a comfort ; and then you're the picture of 
 your mother ! poor Mary ! " but here she suddenly checked 
 herself. 
 
 Those two words, "Your mother," and the connection in which 
 Aunt Patience had spoken them, thrilled Peace's heart, fired the 
 train of imagination, and a new thought flashed like lightning 
 on her brain. The story of her birth, so far as the fact that her 
 mother, dying, had bequeathed her to her kind protectors' care, 
 had never been withheld from her ; for Patience and Reuben 
 had wisely decided not to bring her up in entire ignorance of it ; 
 but there were passages in Mary Halpine's life which had never 
 been imparted to her child. Yet many a tune had she won- 
 dered why, when looking upon the miniature and asking if her 
 mother were indeed beautiful as the face pictured there, Uncle 
 Reuben's .eyes suddenly filled with tears, or, when she spoke of 
 her father, Aunt Patience maintained silence or skilfully evaded
 
 82 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 direct replies. But now, in those spoken words from the sick 
 woman's lips, and glancing up suddenly to see a quick, sharp 
 pang shiver Reuben's frame, that lightning flash of intelligence 
 irradiated the obscurity. She crept close to his side, wound her 
 arms about his neck, and whispered, "My mother! Did she 
 do anything ? What was she to you, Uncle Reuben ? " 
 
 The man's arms tightened about the girl, and he bowed his 
 head on her sunny curls. In a choking voice, he whispered, 
 " Not much, Peace ; only I loved her more than you can think, 
 and she promised she promised " but he could not go on. 
 
 With the quick instinct of dawning- womanhood, Peace under- 
 stood it all. " And did she do wrong ? did she forget you ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " She left me for another. It was one week, only, before she 
 was to have been my wife. He who made her forget her prom- 
 ises was your father." 
 
 " Uncle Reuben, I know now why you never have spoken to 
 me of him ! Was he a good man, or was he wicked ? Tell 
 me ! I will know ! " and Peace grasped his hands beseechingly. 
 
 " Peace," 'said Reuben, slowly, " because he was your father, 
 I have never spoken ill of him ; but I am afraid he was an evil 
 man. But let us not talk of it now, my child." 
 
 " But I must ! dear, good uncle, let me, please ! You don't 
 know how I've thought about it, and wanted to ask you, but 
 never dared. But tell me all now. Was he wicked and cruel 
 to my mother ? And why did she come here to die ? " 
 
 With flushed cheek Peace threw back the curls from her 
 tear-stained face, and stood before him, awaiting an answer. 
 Reuben drew her head caressingly to his breast. 
 
 " My child, I never meant you should know this. It was not 
 your mother's fault, I suppose, if she loved another better than 
 me. Had she asked me, I would have. freed her; but the stroke
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 83 
 
 was sudden, and hard to bear. And then, when she came back 
 to die alone " 
 
 " But where was my father then 1 You do not tell me ! Was 
 he" dead ? He didn't let her come back to die all alone, uncle ? " 
 and Peace burst into tears, and sank into Reuben's arms. 
 
 " Peace, he was not dead. He sent your mother away from 
 him. He was very wicked." 
 
 " And now ? " The girl stood upright, her young face very 
 pale. " He is dead now ? " 
 
 " I do not know ; we never heard so," replied Reuben. 
 
 "Oh, I wish you had said he was dead !," sobbed Peace, pas- 
 sionately. " I do ! I do ! I'd rather you'd said that ! I always 
 thought that ! I didn't know my father had forgotten me all my 
 life thirteen years ! Uncle Reuben, wont he come some day 
 here ? Do you think he meant my beautiful mother to come 
 here and die ? Wont he come after me ? " 
 
 "No,^no, my child," replied Reuben Wedgewood, for he knew 
 what that pure, innocent child could not know, how the gayj 
 dissolute man of the world never seeks again the flowers his foot 
 has crushed in his pathway, "I fear not, Peace. Perhaps 
 he did not know whither Mary came. I don't think he did. 
 She had wandered far before she sought us." 
 
 " Then, if he will not come to me, I must go to him ! " 
 
 There was the wildest excitement in the young girl's manner. 
 Her lips and cheeks blazed with crimson ; her eyes looked 
 darkly brilliant ; her feet had gained the door. 
 
 Reuben stretched forth his arms. " Peace, Peace, where are 
 you going ? Where would you find this man ? For thirteen 
 years you have been our child, and he has never come to claim 
 you. If living, he will never come ; if dead, he cannot. Come 
 back ! Do you want to leave us ? Will you go away and leave 
 Patience now ? "
 
 84 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 * 
 
 Peace b*urst into tears a wild, passionate fit of weeping. 
 She went back and kissed Reuben; then crept upon the bed 
 and laid her flushed cheek softly against the pale, withered one 
 on the pillow. 
 
 "Forgive me, please, Aunt Patience. I wouldn't go away 
 from you for worlds and worlds. But it does seem so hard to 
 think that my own father may be somewhere, perhaps not 
 very far off, and he will not come to see his child ! Oh, if he 
 'would come, I know he would love me, and let me make him 
 good ! I would ask him all, all about my beautiful mother. 
 Aunty, how old was my mother when she died ? " 
 
 " Twenty-three," whispered Patience. 
 
 " Ten years older than I. It was not so very old, was it, 
 aunty?" 
 
 " No ! young enough ! too young to die so ! But it was 
 God's will, darlin' ! There ! don't talk any more now : you will 
 get sick. P'raps you'd better go out : I guess I could sleep a 
 little." 
 
 Peace laid her arm over Aunt Patience's neck a moment, 
 kissed her, then rose. 
 
 " I did not mean to worry you, aunty ; I am sorry." Then, 
 drawing the curtain closer over the west window, smoothing the 
 pillows arid nicely adjusting the coverlet, she 'stood a moment at 
 the bedside. 
 
 " That's a dear ! There ! let me kiss you once. Now go out 
 with Reuben into the kitchen. Leave the door ajar : I'll speak 
 when I wake up. You've got the money, Reuben ? " 
 
 "Yes, Patience." 
 
 " Well, put it by for Peace. Go now, brother : I shall go to 
 sleep." 
 
 Mr. "Wedgewood and Peace went out from the darkened room 
 together, the one to sit oh the threshold of the open door in
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 85 
 
 the soft falling twilight, endeavoring to nerve his saddened heart 
 for the trial he knew was fast approaching the separation from 
 his faithful sister ; and the other, in her little chamber, to look 
 with tearful eyes on the little golden locket whence smiled into 
 her own her mother's eyes, and, alas that their gaze had been 
 the reflex of a treacherous heart her father's ! 
 
 And so two hours went by; the sun went down behind 
 the western hills, clouds of gold, crimson and amber skirting 
 his path ; the skies darkened with thick twilight shadows ; then 
 the new moon hung her silver crescent aloft over the forests, and 
 one bright star came out to keep watch above the graves on 
 Wood Hill whither Reuben's eye turned oft in the gloaming. 
 And then was heard Chip's cheerful chirrup and whistle as he 
 came late from the pasture with the cows ; and old Hannah 
 Ward, Reuben's cousin and nearest relative who had been hired 
 at the farm-house during Patience's illness, came up from the 
 milking with foaming pails and went through the long kitchen 
 with heavy steps, then carried the milk pans down into the cellar 
 dairy ; Cliip lounged about the yard, now sitting a few moments 
 perched on the topmost rail of the barnyard fence, or stroking 
 the head of the black cow, with whom, latterly, he had been on the 
 best terms, inasmuch as she seemed to have forgotten her breachy 
 propensities, and who now stood quietly chewing her cud and 
 rubbing her neck against the bars ; by and by a whip-poor-will 
 struck up his plaintive lonely cry in the grove behind the house, 
 then the hoarse croaking of frogs came up from the marshes ; a 
 toad hopped out from among the rose-bushes by the door and sat 
 down, blinking its eyes with a lazy and very much-at-home air, 
 close to Reuben's foot on the flat door-step ; then the old gray 
 cat crept along with a purr, quite unmindful of Bruno who lay 
 with shaggy head between his forepaws across the threshold ; 
 the scent of sweet peas, southern wood, and mint, came from the 
 
 8
 
 86 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 garden ; and a low, deep, drowsy murmur, like the voice of the 
 distant sea, mingled with the sighing breath of the tall poplars 
 above the roof, swaying Reuben's thoughts to a dreamy repose. 
 
 And later, when the night had fairly settled down, the moon 
 stood larger and higher above the trees, and the star over Wood 
 Hill was not alone in its tender vigil ; when no sound was heard 
 within the farm-house but the steady tick, tick, of the old clock, 
 and the tramp, tramp, of Hannah Ward's thick shoes as she 
 went to and fro about her work then Reuben arose and went 
 in, meeting little Peace just coming from the bedroom. 
 
 " How long Aunt Patience sleeps ! " she said, following him 
 in again, and looping aside the curtain from the window. 
 
 A slant ray of moonlight fell on one hand which lay, white 
 and listless, down the bedside. Reuben lifted it : it was cold as 
 ice ! Then another and brighter ray fell athwart her face a 
 face, so white, so rigid in its repose, that the brother knew, ere 
 he bent his lips to the sleeper's icy breathless ones, that One had 
 been there before him chilling that wrinkled forehead, sealing 
 those aged eyes, sharpening every pale feature with his stern 
 finger even Azrael, the angel of Death ! 
 
 Yes, Patience Wedgewood was dead ! Silently and sweetly, 
 as an infant lapses into slumberj had she yielded her breath ; 
 and though every other feature wore the rigid impress of the 
 death-seal, yet about her lips even while that lonely saddened 
 man stood mute beside her seemed to grow a soft, tender, 
 youthful smile that faint, undefipable, but beautiful smile 
 which is often seen hovering on the faces of the dead ! And 
 then Reuben knew that the angel who led forth her spirit from 
 its earth-worn tenement, in passing the gates of the Celestial 
 City, had held to her lips the cup t>f Eternal Youth. 
 
 Thank God, there are no wrinkled brows, gray hairs, dimmed 
 eyes, palsied feet, broken vows, desolate hearts, in heaven !
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Childe Harold was he hight: bat whence his name 
 And lineage long, it suits me not to say. 
 
 BYBOH. 
 
 "JASPER, two gentlemen down in the parlor to see you; 
 met 'em coming up the walk," said Philip Reade, entering his 
 room at " Talbot Hall " one fine summer afternoon where his 
 chum sat with his feet on the table and chair tipped back 
 against the wall, deep in the mysteries of Sophocles' Greek 
 Grammar. 
 
 The student addressed a handsome, manly looking lad of 
 some sixteen years tossed down his book, sprang to his feet, 
 flung his dressing-gown upon the bed and drew on a neat fitting 
 sack of blue cassimere, took a hasty survey of his person in the 
 glass smoothing down his Byronical collar and running his 
 fingers through the thick brown curls clustering over his damp 
 white forehead, then left the room. 
 
 " "Wonder who the dickens they are ? " he murmured, skipping 
 down the staircase. 
 
 Upon entering the boarding-house parlor, he saw the profile 
 face of a handsome middle-aged stranger standing at a distant 
 window apparently surveying the grounds without ; and a tall, 
 dark-eyed man, rising from a seat near the door, advanced with a 
 cheerful " How are you, Jasper ? " and outstretched hands. 
 
 The boy's face brightened with pleasure and recognition. 
 " Aha, Mr. Golding, my guardian ! what good fortune brings 
 you here ? When did you leave New York, sir ? " 
 
 (87)
 
 8S PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Then while he wrung the proffered hand, his eye glanced to 
 the stranger who had started suddenly at the first sound of the 
 youth's voice, and, as by some impulse he could not restrain, 
 taken a sudden step toward him, then stopped short. 
 
 " Ah, that's right, Revere ! Come here ! This is the boy 
 of whom you've heard me speak so often. A fine lad, isn't he, 
 Jasper ? " and turning to the youth, a strange cynical smile passed 
 unobserved over Hugh Golding's features. "Jasper, I have 
 told this gentleman so much concerning you that his interest is 
 'almost fatherly. There, give your hand to him. Mr. Revere, 
 my adopted son, Jasper Golding ! " 
 
 The hand that met the youth's trembled, and a visible flush 
 went over Mr. Revere's cheek, but he uttered a few common 
 place words of greeting, then retired to the window again ; 
 though from time to time Jasper caught the earnest glance of his 
 eyes ; glances which somehow seemed strangely familiar to him. 
 For a moment he tried to remember where he had met them 
 before. Confused thoughts whirled through, his brain, but he 
 could not disentangle them ; and starting from his reverie, he 
 repeated his question to his guardian. 
 
 " When did you leave New York, sir ? " 
 
 " Three days ago, my friend and I. Business detained us in 
 Boston ; and I proposed running do*wn to your quiet classical 
 town and giving you a surprise. But I didn't expect to find 
 such a tall manly fellow. When I placed you here on going 
 abroad, you were a mere boy ; let's see three years ago ! 
 They've changed you wonderfully : three more will make a 
 man of you, if you keep on growing at this rate. Revere," 
 turning suddenly to the man at the window with a look of intel- 
 ligence. 
 
 " You've got a son about this young gentleman's age I Re- 
 sembles him somewhat, don't he ? "
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 89 
 
 Mr. Eevere's face paled, and an almost imploring look gleam- 
 ed from his eyes. Then he answered in a firm low voice, " Yes 
 Golding, my son is like him very like him ! " 
 
 Golding turned back" carelessly and continued his conversa- 
 tion with Jasper, who said in reply to Mr. Revere's remark, 
 " Here, they take me to- be older than sixteen," and indeed, 
 with his tall, well-knitted form, open manly face, expansive fore- 
 head where intellect had placed its seal, and frank manliness of 
 deportment, the youth seemed full two years older. 
 
 " Well, and what's your next move, Jasper ? About through 
 here, aren't you ? I think your last letter came to me in Paris ; 
 said your course was finished this year ? " 
 
 " Yes sir, this term closes it. I can remain another year and 
 enter College Sophomore, or leave now with the Senior Class. 
 I think I'd rather go with the class, though : a dozen of the boys 
 will enter Freshys. Had'nt I better go up to Harvard when 
 the term's up ; that's in six weeks more; and get admitted? I'm 
 ambitious to get on, sir ! " 
 
 " Yes, certainly ! if you think you'll pass examination, go by 
 all means ; for you must be tired of this moping country town. 
 Devilish dull ain't it ? You'll see life at Cambridge, plenty 
 of city amusements close by, to drive away the blues. Hang it ! 
 I don't believe in this monastic seclusion. You're old enough 
 now to begin to see the world, my boy ! Is'nt that your opinion. 
 Revere ? " carelessly appealing to his companion. 
 
 " Certainly ; you know I always coincide with you," replied 
 Revere with a short nervous.laugh. " Let the lad see life, by 
 all means. College life, in the tempting vicinity of a city, is a 
 good school for youth." 
 
 Jasper looked at the speaker, doubting whether the latter 
 words were uttered in good faith or with a covert sneer ; but he 
 read nothing on his impassive face. 
 
 8*
 
 90 PEACE : OE THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " Let me see your term bills," said Golding. " I have re- 
 ceived none for the last year." 
 
 " They were not forwarded. I will get them in a moment," 
 and leaving the parlor, Jasper lightly ran up to his room. 
 
 " Good ! " he cried to his chum. " Mr. Golding that's my 
 guardian, down stairs has consented. I shall go to Cambridge 
 with the rest of the boys. Wants to see my term bills. Where 
 the deuce are the credentials ? Botheration ! a fellow never can 
 find anything when he's in a hurry ! " and he rummaged in the 
 depths of a trunk. " Ah, I have 'em ! " and taking them from 
 the leaves of a portfolio, he sprang to his feet. 
 
 " Here, stop a moment, Jasp ! Put in a word, will you, 
 about going home with me this vacation ? We'll have such capi- 
 tal times ! Louis Rowland he's my cousin, and a Soph, at 
 Harvard lives in New York he's coming to spend a month 
 with brother Fred. Cousin Qrah, too, she's a splendid girl, I 
 tell you, Jasp ! full of fun and spirit she'll be out of boarding- 
 school then and always spends her summer vacations at our 
 farm. Such gunning, riding, fishing, picnics ! Don't forget it, 
 Jasper ! But look here ! which of those gentlemen is your 
 guardian ? The shorter one, I take it he's your uncle, per- 
 haps ? you look like him I noticed that, when he came up the 
 walk. You've got his hair and eyes ! " 
 
 " No, Phil.," replied Jasper pausing with his hand on the door 
 knob. " You're mistaken. I hav'nt a relative in the world that 
 I know of. This gentleman was a stranger to me until to-day, 
 when he accompanied by guardian* here. Mr. Golding is the 
 other one black eyes and hair foreign looking just re- 
 turned from Europe. He adopted me in my infancy, taking me 
 from the deck of a burning steamer where my parents were both 
 lost But to tell' the truth it struck me at first, that, somewhere, 
 I'd seen this Mr. Revere."
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 91 
 
 " Mr. Revere ? " echoed Philip Reade. " From New York 
 city?" . 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I've seen him there then, when I was at Uncle Rowland's. 
 He's of the firm of ' Revere, Stone and Co., Importers,' one 
 of the wealthiest merchants of New York. I knew his face 
 was familiar still, I think you look like him. Perhaps you've 
 seen him in New York, too ? " 
 
 "No, I never was there," replied Jasper. "Mr. Golding's 
 business takes him to other cities a great deal, and I was brought 
 up at a select boys' school in Connecticut before I came here, 
 always boarding in the tutor's family. Mr. Golding came to see 
 me there every year till I was placed here, and he went to 
 Europe. It must have been a fancy, that I'd seen Mr. Revere 
 before to-day. But I must go down." 
 
 Meantime, a little episode had passed between the two gen- 
 tlemen in the parlor. 
 
 " Good God, Golding ! " exclaimed Augustus Revere rapidly 
 and passionately, pacing the floor excitedly as the youth's foot- 
 steps died along the hall, " How could you be so cool ? I 
 have had a hard battle of it. I shall betray myself ! " 
 
 " And risk all ! " sneered Golding keenly watching him. 
 " Will you undo the work of sixteen years ? Don't be a fool, 
 Revere ! I foresaw that something of this kind would occur 
 when you insisted upon accompanying me here. And yet, 
 why should I try to prevent it ? After all, what is it to me, if a 
 man chooses to ruin himself ? I have served your interests 
 faithfully for sixteen years you can set me aside now, if you 
 choose." 
 
 " Served my interests ? Aye, so you have ! but at my ex- 
 pense, too," muttered Mr. Revere bitterly, turning away and 
 pacing the floor in agitation. " A disinterested friend, forsooth ! "
 
 92 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " Yes, you can acknowledge the boy ! No doubt Mrs. Revere 
 would be glad to welcome him home. It will be a pleasant 
 surprise to her ! I wash my hands of the whole affair," said 
 Golding sneeringiy. 
 
 Revere bit his lip. " You are pleased to be sarcastic, Hugh. 
 I am fully sensible that prudence, interest, everything, demand 
 silence on my part ; but I tell you I did not imagine the sight 
 of that boy would affect me so. So much like her, too ! Let 
 us get away from here, for God's sake, or I shall go mad ! " 
 
 " Certainly, I will not detain you long. It is best we should 
 go. Hush ! here he comes. Be careful ! I saw him eye 
 you sharply." 
 
 Jasper entered with the desired papers bills of his schol- 
 arship and standing for the previous year at the Academy. 
 " Good ! " exclaimed Golding, nodding his head approvingly as 
 he glanced them over. " Greek Latin Declamation 
 highest marks, I see. This speaks of application and talent. 
 Well, you'd better go up to Harvard. And now, what's to be 
 done with you this long summer vacation ? Unfortunately, 
 business calls me to Cincinnati and western cities for three 
 months to come, so I cannot take you to New York as -I had 
 anticipated. It's rather a hard case, Revere," turning where he 
 stood pale and listless by the window "-Here am I, with this 
 fine fellow on my hands," familiarly patting Jasper on his shoul- 
 der, "and neither house or home to take him to. Faith, I 
 oughtn't to have been a bachelor ! I've half a mind to get a 
 wife, if for no other purpose than for the sake of having a home 
 to invite him to. It's too bad, Jasper! You wont want to 
 stay here to get the blues in this dull country town ; nor will 
 you care to go back to your quondam tutor's will you, my 
 boy ? " 
 
 Jasper smiled. Here was the very opening he sought. He 
 said quickly
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 93 
 
 " Capital ! It couldn't have happened more opportunely 
 your journey, I mean, sir for you see Phil. Reade has been 
 teasing me to go home with him into the interior of Massachu- 
 setts. He's planning all sorts of excursions boating, gunning, 
 riding. It is dull enough here vacations, after all the boys are 
 gone. I should like to go with Phil., sir ! " 
 
 " Well, I must confess to being greatly obliged to your good 
 friend Phil.," replied Golding. " Yes, accept his invitation by 
 all means. Enjoy your vacation in any way you please. Is 
 your friend well off ? If not, mind and foot the bills," drawing 
 forth his pocket-book. " I can afford to spare you a trifle, having 
 lately been extra fortunate in some business transactions," and 
 he handed Jasper a roll of bills " and now, I suppose,* as 
 you're determined to become a collegian, I must rise on your 
 quarterly remittances, hey ? " 
 
 " Thank you," said Jasper placing the bills in his porte- 
 monnaie, " if the boys of the Senior Class don't have a jollifica- 
 tion at my expense the last night .of the term, then may I never 
 see the classic halls- of old Harvard that's all! As for my 
 remittances, of course I shouldn't object to their being increased, 
 as my dignity ahem ! " and he pulled up his Byronical 
 collar with an assumption of manhood " will need sustaining. 
 And then, they play off such tricks on the Freshys at college, 
 too ! I shall want to treat 'em all to the best old Havanas, when 
 they come to my room to smoke me out. A few more X's wont 
 go amiss, sir ! " 
 
 "No, I should suppose not," replied the guardian with a 
 laugh. " Revere, don't your old college days come up before 
 you ? But there goes your bell, I suppose ! " as a clear musical 
 chime rang out from the tower of the Academy close by, and 
 the rush of a score of students' feet came on the staircase 
 and through the halls. " We leave town by the evening train
 
 94 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 for Boston. Run over to the Hotel which, by the way, is a 
 fine one for a country town after your recitations. Now 
 good afternoon ! " 
 
 " Good afternoon," replied Jasper as he attended the two to 
 the door, and once again felt the earnest lingering gaze of Mr. 
 Revere's eyes, ere, with a slight inclination of his head in ac- 
 knowledgment of the youth's graceful bow he turned away; 
 then running lightly up the stairs he caught up his books, set 
 his light Panama jauntily on his inoist brown curls, hastened 
 away to join his fellow-students, and soon found himself discuss- 
 ing the knotty passages of Felton's Greek Reader with won- 
 derful ease. 
 
 Meantime the two men had walked silently side by side down 
 the smooth gravelled-, walks of the Academy grounds, then bent 
 their steps up the principal long, cool, elm-shaded street of the 
 village. At length Golding uttered a long low laugh, evidently 
 in the best humor with himself and his companion. 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! Don't you think nature intended me for the 
 boards ? Capital actor, ain't I ? How did you think my fa- 
 therly relations became me ? Spent your money like a prince, 
 didn't I, Revere ? " 
 
 A bitter smile shot across Revere's lips. " Golding, I've been 
 a fool. For heaven's sake, don't taunt me with it ! Keep your 
 peace, will you ? " 
 
 "No," replied Golding angrily. "Eternally harping me on 
 the old string ! You are a fool, Revere ! And I, too, am one, 
 that I do not leave you to your folly. Why should I trouble 
 myself further about your affairs ? You do not thank me' for 
 what I have done. Was it my work in the first place ? Au- 
 gustus Revere, who came to me, little upwards of twelve years 
 ago, and said, ' Receive this boy into your care make yourself 
 his guardian, give him your name, invent a story of his birth
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 95 
 
 while from a distance I watch over him ' ? I took the boy : 
 but I did not know then, that, to break the heart and remove 
 from your path her who stood in your way to the beautiful heir- 
 ess, you did this ! When your scheme prospered, then I saw it ; 
 and then, indeed, I might have thwarted you ; but at that time, 
 as you doubtless remember, my necessity was your opportunity ; 
 besides, on neither of us did our morals sit any too heavily, so 
 I let you go on. Now, after the lapse of these twelve years, 
 during the half of which you 'have not been nigh my charge, 
 you suddenly visit him and are fired with a desire to acknowl- 
 edge him. Are you mad, that you do not see how the risk is 
 great as ever ? Walk into Julie Revere's presence and intro- 
 duce this youth as your son, and what think you the very pleas- 
 ant result would be ? Not a coveted one I imagine, to one 
 who finds his losses and ' debts of honor ' at Delmonte's too 
 heavy to be met by frequent drafts on the firm of " Revere, 
 Stone and Co.," and perforce is glad to avail himself of the 
 proofs of his wife's affection in the shape of the revenues of 
 her cotton plantations ! I tell you, my dear fellow, that I know 
 Julie well enough to affirm that, should this little affair of the 
 boy's paternity come to light, her love would not outlive her 
 anger. With your present involvements, can you brave that ? 
 Do as you please now : I have only set the plain facts before 
 you." 
 
 " Good God ! " exclaimed the man who could but see the 
 truth of these words, " you are right, Hugh. I see that 
 plainly as you do : but there is another plan I can reveal 
 myself to my boy. Believe me or not, I tell you he was always 
 dear to me. His mother, Mary but I will not talk of her 
 now ! " and he laughed a hollow quick laugh "I was a cursed 
 villain : but I swear to you that it was not to break hef heart. 
 The boy was mine. I meant to save him for myself some day
 
 96 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 I would own him. Of course I was a villain, but I will repair 
 the error in a measure now. Let me go to him ! I tell you 
 my heart yearns for that boy as it does for no other being on 
 earth ; and, Hugh Golding, I would give every dollar I ever 
 won or lost at Delmonte's were they now in my possession, to 
 hear him call me father." 
 
 For a few moments there was silence between the two. 
 Golding walked on, apparently careless, idly striking his cane 
 against the wayside hedge but inwardly revolving thought 
 after thought in his mind. 
 
 Then his resolve was taken. True, if he permitted the man 
 beside him to obey the impulses of his heart in the decision just 
 uttered, he did not lose one jot or tittle of his hold over him 
 for, in the exercise of the secret he held, there still remained 
 another way by which he could sway him to his will ; but of this 
 he did not choose to avail himself now; that secret had been 
 hoarded for sixteen years, and it must be kept for an hour of 
 stronger need. 
 
 With a suddenly assumed grave earnestness of manner, he 
 presented to Revere an argument by means of which he foresaw 
 a victory. 
 
 " Revere, I have but one thing more to urge then I have 
 done. Go to Jasper acknowledge him, if you like but 
 how can you answer his questionings ? With what story can 
 you satisfy him, when he asks you concerning his mother? 
 ' That she was your lawful wife ? ' he will ask you to take 
 him home to her successor ! ' That she was ' well, my dear 
 fellow, let us not be nice about words now 'your MISTRESS ?' 
 I tell you, and I know the lad, he would turn and curse 
 you ! Now, Revere, if you say the word, I am ready to ac- 
 company you to his presence." 
 
 Dark, rapid changes went over Augustus Revere's face. The
 
 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 97 
 
 awakened gleam of tenderness was smothered in his eye ; his 
 hard, haughty features repelled the momentary sway of better 
 feelings ; great ice-waves rolled back- with crushing force on the 
 erst melted heart. But a hollow groan of despair welled up 
 from his anguished soul, as he said chokingly, 
 
 " Golding, you are right ! For God's sake, let us leave this 
 place at once. I could not bear to have that boy hate me ! and 
 I cannot meet him again ! " 
 
 -With an exultant smile about his lips, Hugh Golding walked 
 down the street beside his victim. His subtle argument had 
 not been presented hi vain. And when the student youth sought 
 his afternoon visitors at the hotel after his recitations were over, 
 a hastily pencilled note was put into his hand : 
 
 " Jasper, my dear boy, a forgotten business appointment calls 
 us away in the afternoon train. I will write you from Boston. 
 Yours in haste, GOLDING."
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 She grew fairer than her peers ; 
 Still her gentle forehead wears 
 Holy lights of infant years. 
 
 ALEXANDER SMITH. 
 
 WHO is she, Leafy ? " asked Orah Rowland of a slight, ex- 
 quisitely beautiful girl, in whose room she sat at Madame South- 
 worth's Seminary. " I shall dislike her I know I shall ! " 
 and she pouted her full red lips petulantly, " if for no other 
 reason than because she usurps the place I meant to occupy 
 as your room-mate. And yet, the girl is'nt to blame. It was 
 shameful in Madame to*put me in with Nell Denmore for whom 
 I don't care one pin, and break up our plans : so I shall regard 
 this Miss What's-her-name as an interloper, I know ! " 
 
 " Oh, no indeed ! You'll like her, Orah, I am confident ! " 
 enthusiastically replied Leafy Earle, a lovely girl of fourteen, 
 with transparent complexion exquisitely traced by blue veins, 
 dreamy hazel eyes, and braids of chestnut hair singularly bright 
 and burnished. " Oh, I know you will like her ! Miss Bell 
 says she passed a splendid examination in mathematics, and 
 thinks we shall like Her after we get acquainted ; 'and that won't 
 take me long, you know." 
 
 " Well, perhaps I shall. Certainly, I have a fancy for good 
 scholars, and am happy to hear that this new comer has this re- 
 "deeming trait. I do despise dunces, and wouldn't have one for a 
 room-mate! they generally manage to "pony "all their les- 
 sons out of others. Louis says his chum at Harvard u-od to try 
 it on him, but he pretty soon gave him French leave. Nell 
 
 (98)
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEX WILLL. 99 
 
 Denmore, thank fortune, is a capital scholar ! But about this 
 new one ? What's her name ? Who is she ? " 
 
 Just then a slight tap came on the door, and Miss Bell ap- 
 peared with a slender girl clad in black. " Young ladies 
 Miss Rowland and Miss Earle," said the teacher ; " this is Miss 
 Wedgewood. Miss Leafy, I trust you will make your room- 
 mate quite at home ; " then turning to the girl who stood near 
 the door with cheeks slightly flushed, "My dear, the porter 
 will bring up your luggage. Our dinner hour is one. Miss 
 Earle will accompany you to the Seminary this afternoon. 
 .Good morning ! " 
 
 For the first time, Peace was alone among strangers. A feel- 
 ing of desolation and home-sickness came over her : she sank 
 into the nearest chair, and with trembling fingers endeavored to 
 remove her bonnet. But the strings were knotted, and her en- 
 deavors to unloose them only rendered them more inextricable. 
 
 Leafy Earle sprang forward. " Let me assist you, Miss 
 Wedgewood ! " and, as her slender fingers unravelled the knot 
 and smoothed out the long curls under the bonnet she removed, 
 Peace looked up with a grateful smile and a gentle "thank 
 you ! " which quite- won her heart. 
 
 But Orah Rowland sat aloof. Leaning her elbow on the 
 window sill and her head on her hand, she steadily regarded the 
 new comer. Orah's was no common character. At fifteen she 
 was mature, self-possessed, and self-reliant. Many called her 
 self-willed and haughty ; but they were those who could not un- 
 derstand the workings of a high noble spirit which often prompt- 
 ed her to an independence, sometimes a defiance of conventional 
 rules and forms, causing her to read character by a kind of 
 intuition, thus creating sudden and powerful likes and dislikes, 
 and hindering her from moulding her thoughts or opinions by 
 the creed of others. To such she was a "strange," "odd,"
 
 100 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " haughty " girl ; to those who knew her, she was a creature to 
 be loved strongly full of all high, generous, and affectionate 
 impulses. 
 
 In her personale, neither, was she after the common type. 
 With features irregular, but each of its own style of beauty a 
 haughty Koman nose with thin curling nostrils, a massive, pro- 
 minent forehead, heavy brows arching over eyes of a calm 
 clear gray, a pale, almost dazzlingly fair complexion, hair of 
 uncommon wealth and glossiness almost approaching that purple 
 blackness seen on the ripe Tuscan grape, a form not over tall 
 but well-rounded and flexile such was her exterior. No one 
 would have dreamed of calling her handsome ; but the words 
 "noble," "queenly-looking," and "brilliant," successively ap- 
 plied by her school-mates, were not unapt. Indeed, the cast of 
 her features, with her heavy brow, clear gray eye, and masses 
 of hair, was almost masculine. But the small tender mouth 
 with its expression of feminine sweetness was the redeeming 
 feature. It was a womanly mouth, small, curved, and coral-red. 
 
 Now, as she sat with her head resting on one white hand 
 the full flowing sleeve falling back from her polished arm, re- 
 vealing a massive bracelet of braided jet-black hair fastened by 
 a large plain golden clasp and the other toying carelessly with 
 the charms on her watch-chain her gray eyes steadily regard- 
 ing Peace with a clear, piercing, but not unkind or curious glance 
 she looked haughtily beautiful. 
 
 At this moment the porter brought up two trunks and depos- 
 ited them within the room. Leafy immediately began gather- 
 ing up her books, that half the table they were to share in com- 
 mon might be appropriated to the use of her room-mate. But 
 Orah stirred not ; and Peace sat for a little time half-abashed 
 under the strong gaze of those eyes. Then the innate inde- 
 pendence of her own nature rose to her aid. She was far from
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 101 
 
 her home alone among the threescore young ladies at the 
 Seminary here, in her own room, sat a girl, rich and haughty, 
 judging from her dress and air, intently regarding her, perhaps 
 criticising her plain black dress and contrasting it with her own 
 rich attire but she would not let that annoy her. Yet there 
 was a slight flush on her cheek ; but she rose very quietly, and, 
 with a womanly air, laid her straw hat and shawl on the bed, 
 took her keys from her pocket, and proceeded to unlock her 
 trunks. 
 
 Orah Howland rose, and stepping toward her laid her hand 
 upon her arm. 
 
 " Miss Wedgewood, beg pardon, but please tell me your other 
 name ! " 
 
 " Peace," was the quiet answer. 
 
 "Well, then, I must call you so always. Peace I like 
 that ; and I have looked at you, and I like you, too ! Peace, 
 will you let me love you ? You look so much like somebody I 
 know ! " and a brilliant blush dyed the cheek of the " cold," 
 " haughty," Orah Howland, as she put her arm about her neck 
 and kissed her. 
 
 Peace very quietly returned the caress but, as she turned 
 hastily aside there was a quick quiver of her red lips, and a 
 tear sprang to her eyes. 
 
 " I thank you," she said, gratefully. 
 
 Orah looked at her for a moment, earnestly ; the red deepen- 
 ing on her cheek, then glancing at her black dress, said, " Are 
 you an orphan, Peace ? " 
 
 . " Yes," was the reply. " Aunt Patience and uncle Reuben 
 brought me up. Aunty is dead. Then after a moment she ad- 
 ded "I never knew my mother." 
 
 Orah caught her hand, pressed it hard, then suddenly turned 
 away to the window where she stood long with her lips pressed 
 
 9*
 
 102 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WTLL. 
 
 passionately to the jet-black bracelet upon her arm. Long she 
 stood there, while Peace wiped the tears from her own eyes, and, 
 assisted by Leafy Earle, busied herself in removing her dresses 
 from the trunks, hanging them in the closet assigned her, and 
 arranging her books on the little study table. Suddenly she 
 passed from the room with a quick impetuous step ; but as her 
 eyes fell on Peace a moment ere she closed the door, they spar- 
 kled with tears. 
 
 " She lost her mother just before she came here two years 
 ago," said Leafy. " That bracelet is of her hair. There is'nt a 
 girl in the Seminary but covets her notice. She has taken a 
 great liking to you, Peace, I see. There, all finished ! " she ex- 
 claimed, as, after busying herself with arranging the books on 
 the white draperied table, she sat down beside it " I've placed 
 your books as you'll want them but let's see, I'll leave out the 
 text books for the afternoon. Ah, Andrews' Latin Reader. You 
 will take Latin, then ? " 
 
 " Yes, I've read it a little already but let us talk about her 
 Miss Rowland, if you please." 
 
 " Ah, I see," said Leafy with a smile. " She has fascinated 
 you as she does all. But beware ! I shall be jealous if you 
 usurp my place in her heart. Do you know that we were talk- 
 ing about you just as you came in and Orah was declaring 
 herself vexed because Madame Southwoiii. put you in with me. 
 We have been room-mates for a year, Orah and I Why, I ex- 
 pected she'd prove your sworn enemy ! " 
 
 " Indeed, I'm sure I didn't intend to separate you," replied 
 Peace deprecatingly. 
 
 " Oh, you couldn't help it dear ! " exclaimed Leafy. " It was 
 only one of Madame's notions. I suppose she thought the weal- 
 thy Judge Rowland's daughter was getting too intimate with the 
 humble Leafy Earle. And so she told Orah that she would
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 regard it as a particular favor if she'd room with Miss Nell Den- 
 more, whose father also happens to be one of the upper ten of 
 her native Gotham. But never mind, Peace. You and I will 
 be the best of chums. I shouldn't resign you, even were Orah 
 herself to invite you to share her bed and board." 
 
 Peace laughed merrily ; but her thoughts reverted to the girl 
 who had obtained such a hold on her heart. 
 
 " Then she is wealthy and lives in New York ? Tell me 
 all about her." 
 
 " Well, to begin," said Leafy burying her dainty little figure 
 in the depths of a rocking chair and resting the tip of her tiny 
 slippered foot on a low stool.' " O. Howland is the best girl in 
 Northfield Seminary, whom, if you hear anybody say they don't 
 like, be sure they don't know her, or she won't know them. You 
 can't know her in a day or a week ; her character will bear 
 studying, and repay you well, too, for your pains. Her father is 
 very wealthy Judge Howland of New York they live in the 
 city in winter, and in summer have a splendid country seat 
 somewhere, or travel. Her mother died two years ago, as I told 
 you. She mourns her a great deal still ; and she told me the 
 other day, that, if she had a step-mother, she believed she should 
 hate her ! That's just like her where she loves, she loves 
 strongly, and will let no second object supersede the first. She 
 went everywhere with her mother for her health the two years 
 previous to her death to Washington, the South, to the 
 Springs. When she graduates, she says her father has prom- 
 ised a foreign journey to visit Europe Italy ! Ah, that's 
 the only thing /envy her the means to visit the land of Tasso 
 and Michael Angelo the home of the poet, the painter, the 
 sculptor ! It is all I would ask yet I am poor, and it must be 
 denied me ! " The flush on the girl's transparent cheek deep- 
 ened to a rich crimson, her hazel eye gleamed with a beautiful
 
 104 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 light but a soft sigh escaped her lips. " Yes it must be denied 
 me ! " she repeated sadly, " for / am poor ! " Then all her 
 beautiful enthusiasm died out, and she dropped her head listlessly 
 on her hand. 
 
 ' Peace comprehended in part the longings of that enthusiastic 
 artist soul ; but her own gentle loving heart held another creed 
 another, and a better. She ventured to breathe it in a few 
 quiet words. 
 
 " Yes, it must be pleasant to have wealth to go to other and 
 beautiful countries. But would it not be better to do good with 
 it ? There are so many poor and suffering in the world, I have 
 heard so many poor, and suffering, and ignorant." 
 
 " That's one of Orah's doctrines, too ! You two are much 
 alike," said Leafy, looking up. "I will tell you. Only last 
 night she said almost the same. We had been talking here, but 
 were quiet then when suddenly she broke out, 'Leafy, I 
 thank God I am rich ! You don't know what plans I've formed 
 of doing good among the poor, when I go home. There are 
 hundreds, you know, in great cities they starve there, or per- 
 ish with cold and sickness every year. I thank God that he 
 gave me the means to do good with ! ' That's what she said 
 does that sound as if she were haughty or cold ? " 
 
 " No indeed ! I love her already ! " exclaimed Peace with 
 warmth. " She's a noble girl.'' 
 
 " Yes, that she is ! but I declare, how my tongue aches ! I 
 have chattered like a magpie. It must be near dinner time ! " 
 
 Peace went to the mirror and began brushing out her curl?. 
 Their golden length fell in profusion down her slight tall 
 form. 
 
 " How old are you, Peace ? " asked Leafy. 
 
 " Almost fourteen," was the reply. 
 
 " Why, I should take you for fifteen, certainly that's Orah's
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN. WILL. 105 
 
 age and mine. You are taller than I am," and Leafy stood up 
 beside her. 
 
 Leafy was indeed a very child in appearance, save when the 
 sudden flashes burning on her cheeks told of the impetuous 
 blood coursing a woman's heart. Then, her face lighted 
 with the glow of enthusiasm, and her hazel eyes getting darker 
 and more brilliant, one saw that it was not mere childish animar 
 tion which stirred her usual playfulness or listlessness of manner, 
 but the betrayal of strong and earnest feelings. With ex- 
 quisite sensibilities, and a power of appreciating the beauties of 
 Poesy and Art, and of reproducing them, too, in language and 
 limnings of her own, the young girl was both an artist and a 
 poet ; and in personal loveliness she equalled those for whom the 
 lyre has been swept or the canvas painted. But now, standing 
 side by side with Peace before the mirror, she gracefully ad- 
 justed the braids about her head chatting meantime like a 
 very school-girl. In five minutes she had graphically thrown 
 off sketches of the teachers and half the young ladies at the 
 Seminary. 
 
 " Yes, Peace," she continued, after the Principal and the 
 assistants had been discussed, "I'm confident you'll like many 
 of the girls here. There's Nell Denmore, Orah's room-mate, 
 rather quiet and haughty, but a grand scholar. Belle Allston 
 she's a capital girl for fun always up to some frolic. But 
 Madame seems blind to her faults ; on the score of her scholar- 
 ship, I suppose for she's splendid stands next to Orah who 
 takes to the substantial they both excel in the mathematics 
 and languages. Then thete's Alice Doane and Kate Drew 
 two prim, old-maidish girls study, eat, sleep, and walk by 
 rule. Martha Wells well, if you wont laugh when I point 
 her out in school ! such little old-fashioned sleeves as she 
 wears, and plain linen collars, an an eternal knot of green
 
 106 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 ribbon ! she's worn it three terms, to my knowledge. Then she's 
 so thin, too all lines and angles. Ugh ! I never look at her 
 in the drawing class, but I think of withered trees and leafless 
 branches no grace or beauty about her. And Carrie Elton 
 she's a splendid pianist ! Do you play, Peace ? " 
 
 " No," answered the young girl, athwart whose brain stole a 
 memory of the only music heard within the old farm-house 
 the buzz of Aunt Patience's spinning-wheel " no, but I hope 
 to take lessons. I should love it, of all studies." 
 
 " Yes indeed ! I wonder how one can help loving music ! 
 But the best I hear is out there, in that old grove," pointing from 
 the window to a thick dark woodland in the hollow between two 
 hills " such concerts as the birds get up there, these beautiful 
 September mornings ! We must go there often. The dear, 
 care-free birds ! I almost envy them their liberty, while we are 
 shut up here six hours in the day, and half the rest of the time 
 in our rooms, subject to Madame's l Rules and Regulations.' 
 Dear me ! I wonder if I shall ever view life soberly, or with a 
 sense of its seriousness ? The time will come, perhaps, when I 
 shall grow sedate and thoughtful : but now, give me freedom 
 yes, freedom and love I couldn't do without that, Peace 
 and I am contented. What are you going to be, after you grad- 
 uate, Peace ? " turning soberly toward her, " not a teacher, 
 I hope ? " 
 
 " Yes, I want to be ! " was the quiet reply. 
 
 " Want to be ? " echoed Leafy, with an expression of amaze- 
 ment. " Oh dear, how can you say so ? Why I couldn't, from 
 choice. I wish there was no such thing as work in the world. 
 But I suppose I'll be obliged to do something for a living? one 
 of these days. You see, I've got a dear good mother who has 
 saved up the little my father left, to educate me ; and by and by 
 I must repay her. It wont seem like toil, though, with such an
 
 PEACE I OR THE STOLEN WILL. 107 
 
 object in view. I long for my school days to be over that I 
 may go home to her." 
 
 " And so you'll teach, then ? " 
 
 "Not little children their a-b-c's ! " and Leafy laughed and 
 shrugged her shoulders. " ' Par dong,' as Mam'selle Lucie says. 
 'Mais excusez moi' No ! I love my beautiful Art too well. I 
 must teach that, or starve ! Shall I show you something ? " and 
 she brought a portfolio from the table and sat down beside 
 Peace. 
 
 A beautiful flush gathered on the young girl's cheek, as Leafy 
 removed, one by one, the sketches from the portfolio. They 
 were done in crayon, for the most part - heads, busts, land- 
 scapes, ruins, towers and waterfalls the faultlessness of their 
 shading and nicety of finish evincing a correct and cultivated 
 taste ; but Peace, to whom these pictures opened a new field in 
 the realm of the Beautiful, lingered longest over several vigorous 
 and faithful pencilled sketches from nature forest, hill, river, 
 and winding brook, as seen from the windows of their room. 
 These the young artist girl had considered her chefs-d'oeuvres ; 
 and a bright grateful smile hovered about her lips, as she saw 
 the appreciative glance which Peace alternately cast from them 
 to the landscape without. 
 
 " They are very true, and beautiful," said Peace softly and 
 with sparkling eyes as she closed the portfolio. 
 
 " Now you know, Peace, why I cannot teach children to read 
 and spell. To my Art, must I devote myself; but sometimes I 
 have bitter thoughts because I cannot wholly indulge my love 
 for it. Were I a man, I would toil and struggle, and become a 
 great painter ; but as I am only a poor feeble girl, I must be 
 content to make pictures and sell them for my daily bread. 
 Poverty is a hard taskmaster, Peace. I almost envy Orah 
 ind ill" wealth which will take her to Italy. Why is it
 
 108 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 denied me ? " and she paced the floor, with carnation cheeks and 
 flashing eyes. 
 
 Meantime Peace sat very still. She was thinking of her own 
 little patrimony the three hundred dollars, which had been 
 the fruit of a lifetime of economy and self-denial to good old 
 Aunt Patience how little, how very little way it would go 
 toward purchasing the elegant attire, the jewels even, of the 
 rich Orah Howland but how far she must make it extend in 
 procuring for her what she valued far above the luxuries of 
 dress the knowledge her thirsting spirit would acquire at the 
 Seminary. 
 
 " The dinner bell ! " exclaimed Leafy, breaking her revery 
 as its peal rang along the passages, and a tap upon the door was 
 followed by the entrance of Orah Howland and her room-mate. 
 " Come, Peace, I will matronize you ! " and with her arm about 
 her slight waist, the affectionate girl led the new comer along the 
 corridors, down the broad staircase, where joined by a score of 
 young ladies issuing from their rooms, they sought the long 
 dining-room.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Ha ! I have thee fast 
 In a net of my own weaving ! " 
 
 IT was late at night ; Augustus Revere and Hugh Golding sat 
 together in the former's mansion, a table strewn with cards 
 and dice between them. A massive sideboard was covered with 
 glasses and decanters of choice liquors, and an open escritoire 
 strewn with papers. 
 
 Both men were strongly excited ; there was an angry flush 
 on their cheeks, and a sparkle in their eyes not wholly induced 
 by the wine they had drank. Golding leaned back in his chair, 
 an expression of cool determination deepening over his face - 
 furtively eyeing his companion on whose cheek an angry red 
 spot stood. At length, after full five minutes, in which no word 
 had been spoken, the former broke the silence. Bringing his 
 hand down on the table so heavily that the cards flew in every 
 direction, he said in a slow measured voice 
 
 " It's no use, Revere ! The money I must, and will have ! 
 Here, for three years, I've not troubled you what the devil 
 do you mean by hanging off so, now ? " 
 
 Revere's eye flashed angrily, and the flush deepened. " Gold- 
 ing, I wont submit to it longer! I can't! Such cursed 
 exorbitance ! You're a very leech upon my purse. For twelve 
 years I've fathered all your debts " 
 
 " Even as I fathered your child" sneered Golding. " "We 
 are at quits, then ! " 
 
 " Yes, we are at quits, Golding. I mean it now. I've been 
 
 10 (109)
 
 110 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 a fool to be kept in leading strings so long. Go to Jule tell 
 her all I'll risk the consequences." 
 
 " Ah, yes ! I see ! You're quite willing now that the expose 
 shall occur, when, what with your extravagant drains upon it, 
 the depths of her purse must have been reached. Cotton field 
 after cotton field has been sold by that loving, yielding woman, 
 plantation after plantation has been converted into money ; and 
 that money, you have squandered ! To keep your name above 
 board in the mercantile world, she has almost beggared her- 
 self. And now you would repay her. Oh, most rare, most 
 dutiful husband ! But, Revere, though you can cheat the world 
 Jule even you cannot me ! I know by what means you 
 have retained your hold over your wife, commanding her heart 
 and fortune it is, that she has always regarded you as imma- 
 culate, so far as concerns affaires du coeur. Content, so you do 
 not run after pretty actresses or ballet girls, she has winked at 
 your lesser vices, and submitted to pay your debts of honor. 
 But, some fine day, walk in with young Jasper Golding on your 
 arm, and post her up regarding his paternity, and then, what 
 think you ? However, these arguments have all been present- 
 ed before ; I did not come all the way from New Orleans to re- 
 fresh your memory with them. But I would merely suggest, 
 that, should you persist in this course, a certain set of diamonds 
 owned by Mrs. Revere said to be worth no less than ten thou- 
 sand, can never be pawned, pledged, or borrowed, to get you 
 out of the tight place you are now said to be in. Ha! you 
 start, Gus ! Where'd I learn that ? You wonder ? / stood at 
 the faro table last night, when you lost ! But come, let us not 
 sit here half the night, beating round the bush. I tell you, 
 Gus, I'm in a tight place, and you'd better come down with the 
 money, or raise it for me in a given time." 
 
 llevere's face darkened ; but his lips seemed cut 01 iron.
 
 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. Ill 
 
 " Hugh Golding, once for all, I wiU not ! Take the boy, to- 
 morrow, if you like, into Jule's presence. She'll storm at first 
 
 of course she will I expect it, but, mark me, she'll give 
 in at last. No woman like her would publish her husband's 
 error to the world ; and, after all, what have /done worse than 
 hundreds, aye, thousands of others ? In my younger days I was 
 no saint Mary Halpine was beautiful, and I loved her" 
 and for a moment he passed his hand over his eyes as if to shut 
 out a vision, and his voice grew thicker. " Yes, by Heaven, I 
 did love that girl as I never loved any woman on earth before, 
 or since! But I couldn't marry her at least, I was fettered 
 by such cursed debts that, when I met the heiress, I wouldn't 
 which amounted to the same thing. And so we parted. Had I 
 done differently but it's no use talking now. I married Jule 
 
 and have been faithful to her. So long as she walks un- 
 harmed amid the thousand temptations which assail a woman of 
 fashion, I should be a very brute, were I to desert her for an- 
 other. No ! my passion for gaming has been my only absorb- 
 ing sin. Though I married with vows of reform on my lips, I 
 have not found strength to keep them they were weak as fet- 
 ters of sand to bind me. Hugh Golding, I have heard men 
 prate of the terrible power of habit heard them tell of the 
 fascinating thrall of dice and the wine cup and I used to vote 
 it all humbug, gammon but I tell you," and here the pale 
 haggard face of the speaker, and his thin trembling hand, added 
 fearful weight to his words "I tell you, it is all true ! These 
 passions are strong as death ! I verily believe, had I my last 
 dollar in my hand to-night before twenty-four hours I should 
 stake it at Delmonte's ! " 
 
 For a time there was deep silence. 
 
 " Then you will not let me have the money ? " ventured 
 Golding at length.
 
 112 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " No ! " was the inflexible reply. 
 
 There was no discomfiture on the careless, smiling face turn- 
 ed toward Revere. On the contrary, a cool assured expression, 
 like one secure of his aim, settled on every feature. Golding 
 leaned back in his chair, stretched his feet in a comfortable posi- 
 tion over an ottoman before the fire, and said, leisurely 
 
 " Well, then, Revere, since you will not comply with my re- 
 quest, perhaps you will be glad to make terms, after I have re- 
 vealed something which has lain on my conscience rather heavi- 
 ly for these nineteen years. I did intend to spare you this 
 but you will not have it so ! ' 
 
 Revere, whose temper was thoroughly aroused, sneered. 
 " Bring on your conscientious scruples. I am waiting for 'em." 
 
 Golding smiled exultingly. Leaning over the table, he whis- 
 pered with eyes keenly bent on his companion's, '' Augustus Re- 
 vere, I have the proof that your marriage with Julie Courtney 
 was illegal. You were, at that time, the lawful husband of Mary 
 Halpine ! " 
 
 It is impossible for pen to portray the change which came 
 over the face of that man. First, an ashen hue went from lip to 
 forehead, as he sprang to his feet ; then the knotted veins stood 
 out like whipcords, and his eyes struck sparks of flame. With 
 a groan, he grasped the marble mantel for support then stag- 
 gered back heavily into his chair, covering his face with his 
 hands. 
 
 After a little he recovered. " By Heaven ! it is a lie 
 a cursed lie ! " and he smote his fist on the table till the glasses 
 rung. 
 
 A cool, derisive smile curled Golding's lip. " Oh, ho ! Take 
 it easy, G-us ! What's the use to get in a passion and call your 
 best friend a liar? Be sure I assert nothing of which I have 
 not the proof" and he carelessly drew forth a letter-case from
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 113 
 
 his pocket from which he took a folded paper. Handing it to 
 his companion, he leaned forward and took a cigar from the 
 mantel, ignited it, and placed it to his lips. 
 
 "With nervous hand, Revere clutched the paper. As he read, 
 his countenance grew livid. It was the certificate of his mar- 
 riage with Mary Halpine! With a wild glare in his eyes, 
 glancing furtively at Golding who sat idly watching the curling 
 wreaths of cigar-smoke, he crumpled the paper in his hand, then 
 quick as lightning dashed it into the burning grate ; and when 
 a tiny heap of white cinders whirled round and round then 
 leaped up the chimney-flue, he turned triumphantly round, faced 
 Golding, and said in a tone of exultation : 
 
 " Now ! now ! what is left of it now ? " 
 
 There was no look of baffled cunning on Gelding's face ; nor 
 did he stir the slightest to save the paper from destruction. He 
 took the cigar from his lips, twirled it carelessly in his fingers, 
 and said blandly : 
 
 " Why did you try that game, my dear fellow ? Do you take 
 me for a verdant one ? I know you as well as I do myself 
 and would say that I have the original of that document safe in 
 my pocket-book. You have burned the copy ! " 
 
 Revere was powerless. He sank away into his seat with a 
 groan. 
 
 " Did she Mary know this ? " he asked at length, 
 hoarsely. 
 
 "No," and Golding transferred his cigar to his lips, 
 " never told her, 'pon my word of honor ! " 
 
 " Where is she now ? Do you know ? living, or dead ? " 
 
 A shake of the head gave a negative answer. Revere 
 breathed freer. 
 
 " Then what the devil do you come here with this story for ? 
 But, after all, I don't believe it. It's a hoax that you've trumped 
 
 10*
 
 114 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 up to scare me with, because I cannot let you have the money. 
 If you forged one certificate, you would another. Golding, you 
 aren't the man I took you for. Let us call it a joke, and let it 
 pass yes, a confounded good joke, Hugh ! " and he laughed 
 nervously, and gazed eagerly up into his face. 
 
 Golding threw his half-burned cigar into the grate, and his 
 whole manner changed instantaneously. 
 
 " Augustus Revere, look at me ! Am I the man who would 
 joke with you on such a subject as this ? You doubt my words : 
 well, listen ! When you invited me to officiate on a certain 
 occasion quite a number of years ago, when we were both 
 younger than we are now, I didn't see fit to obey your direc- 
 tions literally because, firstly, prima facia, I had no taste for 
 the clericals, and didn't know for my life how I could easily find 
 my way into a surplice, or out again if I once got in ; and sec- 
 ondly, because a very happy idea occurred to me then, that, 
 should I substitute a certain young acquaintance who wore the 
 cloth by right, and thus the ceremony were performed bona jfide, 
 the proof of this might be rendered available to me on some 
 future occasion, for instance, like the one that has just turned 
 up. You see into it now, I reckon ! " 
 
 " Yes yes I see ! " gasped Revere in a voice choked with 
 sarcasm and passion. " And I am sure I thank you, from the 
 bottom of my heart ! Julie, too, has reason to be very grateful. 
 Very proud she must be of her cousin ! Will you not walk up 
 stairs, and inform her of the delightful change in her prospects ? 
 what she was, and what she is ! It would be such a friendly, 
 cousinly favor ! Come ! " 
 
 Golding winced under these cool, sarcastic words ; and at the 
 mention of Julie's name, his cheek grew pale, and he bit his lip. 
 Leaning over the arm of his chair, he hissed into his companion's 
 ear:
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 115 
 
 ' Beware ! Revere, I may take you at your word. You 
 taunt me with aiding in my cousin's ruin ! Listen : But a few 
 hours before Julie Courtney accepted you, I who had loved 
 ht from my earliest boyhood begged for but the smallest 
 word of favor from her lips, and was scornfully, aye, contemp- 
 tuously rejected ! ' Because of the known laxity of my princi- 
 ples ' that was her insulting plea ! Forsooth ! it was a brave 
 exchange between me and you ! Revere, do you wonder now 
 that I went to the gaming table that night, maddened ? that I 
 played desperately, and lost ? that, when I sought your help 
 in my embarrassing debts, and when I learned to whom Julie 
 Courtney had pledged herself, I was tempted to make my neces- 
 sity the means of securing my revenge f Aye, I tell you, the 
 temptation was strong, and I did not resist it ! To know that 
 her fate lay in my hands to let her walk her own way and 
 never to divert her step from the path ! Oh, this was noble, 
 manly an honorable revenge ! " and he paced the floor, with 
 a bitter smile upon his lips. 
 
 Revere comprehended the emotions which had swayed that 
 fiery soul. All his old coolness and cunning came to his aid. 
 He saw, clearly, the peril he was in. There was but one way 
 of escape. Going up to Golding, he laid his hand heavily on 
 his shoulder. 
 
 " How much money do you need ? " 
 
 Golding turned sharply. 
 
 " I got bondsmen in New Orleans for three thousand. But I 
 must have a surplus to commence anew upon. To-morrow I go 
 to Boston to try my fortune with the fickle goddess there. In 
 ten days I shall return to New York. Have in readiness for 
 me six thousand not a dollar less. You can easily obtain it 
 by borrowing from the firm, or, what would be easier for you, 
 pawning Julie's diamonds. Ball and Black will gladly advance
 
 116 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 that sum on them. Then this marriage certificate is yours ; and 
 we have done with each other forever." 
 
 Revere was very pale ; but he replied firmly, " Golding, the 
 money shall await you 1 "
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 He went to his grave nor told what man he was. 
 He was unlanguaged, like the earnest sea, 
 Which strives to gain an utterance on the shore 
 But ne'er can shape unto the listening hills 
 The lore it gathered. 
 
 ALEXANDER SMITH. 
 
 IT was dreary November. October, golden and crimson 
 hued, had exacted her last tribute from the trees ; the pomp and 
 glory of the autumn was over ; the last naming banner had 
 flaunted on the air ; from the skies as well as woods the hec- 
 tic flush had died; and dun, leaden clouds meet attendants 
 for the sun's journey, those short, dreary days gloomed 
 athwart the gray skies. In the forests and the hollows, waves 
 of dead leaves surged to and fro ; the grass was short and brown 
 and crisp on the stubble-fields and meadow-land, save where 
 some faint strip of sickly green marked the track of the low 
 water-courses ; the rushes and willows along the river-banks 
 were dimly powdered with hoarfrost ; lonely bird-songs were 
 piped at intervals from the reedy marshes ; and sad winds went 
 singing their Banshee wail over all the land. 
 
 What was there in those dreary skies, the sobbing wail of the 
 mournful winds, to send a thrill to Reuben Wedgewood's heart 
 and a shiver over his frame, as he wandered about his farm, 
 or, crossing the low meadows, and going sadly along the path 
 through the naked woodlands, went often in the gloaming to the 
 graves on Wood Hill ? Why sang the pines and firs there so 
 
 (117)
 
 118 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 mournfully and, tossing their dusky plumes aloft upon the 
 gray air, seemed to whisper dirges ? Were they warnings ? 
 
 Of all the lonely autumns and there had been three since 
 Patience was laid to rest, and Peace's footsteps, save at inter- 
 vals, had ceased to make the music of his heart of all these 
 lonely autumns, this was the dreariest to Reuben. Not only the 
 wind piped its sad songs about the corners and gables of the old 
 farm-house not only the skies gloomed, and rushing rains fell, 
 swelling the water-courses and making the brook roar turbulently 
 through the valley down to the river, and the swollen river 
 surged on its way, and from the distant sea, the moan of the bil- 
 lows lashed into fury on the rocky beach, came distinctly with a 
 sound of desolation and storms and shipwreck on the main not 
 only over outward nature was this "saddest time of all the 
 year" gaining dominion, but over his spirit. For then, hi 
 that sad autumn-time, when the sheaves were all garnered into 
 barns and storehouses when the reapers had finished their 
 toils, and the year and Nature were groping along to their 
 death-sleep came a foreboding shadow of the Great Reaper, 
 who binds up into sheaves that he may gather into his granaries 
 every human hope, and love, and joy whose sickle is sharp 
 and merciless, and who spares none from his path even 
 Death ! 
 
 And day by day, slowly but steadily, the gloom of the outer 
 earth had penetrated the inner life of Reuben. He heard in the 
 whispering pines, the rush of the rain-storm, the distant moan of 
 the angry sea, and the wail of the winds, solemn voices speaking 
 to his heart ; and then came a great peace to him a peace 
 down-falling from the Throne of the Infinite a serener light 
 to his dark gray eye, and a mild benignity to his seamed, wrin- 
 kled face. The shadow fell from his soul. 
 
 One afternoon at twilight, Reuben came in from a long walk
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 119 
 
 over his farm, and sat down in thoughtful quiet by the kitchen 
 hearth. His face was pale ; and every now and then he pressed 
 his hand convulsively on his heart. 
 
 " Are you sick, Reuben ? " asked the tall, angular Hannah 
 Ward, who bustled about now stirring the fire, now hanging 
 the iron tea-kettle on the trammel, then drawing out the old- 
 fashioned round table and laying the cloth for supper. 
 
 " No," was the reply. " Only a touch of my old complaint, 
 that's all. It'll go off by and by. I walked too far this after- 
 noon." 
 
 Hannah went about in her scant homespun dress and thick 
 shoes, bringing the dishes from the buttery, placing two plates 
 and knives and forks evenly upon the table and then, measur- 
 ing out the tea from the caddy, poured in the boiling water, and 
 raking open the ashes, set it down to " draw." All was very 
 quiet ; for Hannah was no talker, and the man by the fire-place 
 was too much absorbed in his own thoughts to break the silence. 
 At last he looked up suddenly. 
 
 " Hannah, do you believe in dreams ? " 
 
 " No not I ! " answered the spinster in her harsh rough 
 voice. " But why ? " 
 
 "Oh, no matter!" replied Reuben. But after a pause he 
 added, " I dreampt about sister Patience a good deal last night. 
 I seemed to see her, a beckoning me. Some would say it's a 
 bad sign, Hannah." 
 
 " La, that's nothing ! " retorted the spinster in a quick, jerk- 
 ing tone. " If 'tis a sign, 'taint a bad one ! Dreams allers go by 
 contraries at least them says so that believes such nonsense. 
 Dear knows, / don't ! ' Dream of the dead, and you'll hear 
 from the living,' they say." 
 
 " Well, p'raps so p'raps so ! " returned Reuben with a 
 smile. " I guess we shall hear from Peace. Let's see, it's three
 
 120 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 weeks since she wrote, and I havn't answered her yet. I'll 
 write this very night. We must have her home to Thanksgiv- 
 ing a week from next Thursday. Don't you think she could 
 come over then, Hannah ? I believe the term is out a week 
 after." 
 
 " Yes, I s'pose she'll come if you write. No doubt she'll be 
 glad to get out a week aforehand ! " 
 
 The voice which uttered these words was hard and cold, but 
 Reuben did not heed it, neither the keen angry glitter of her 
 little black eyes, or her heavy step, as she took up a candle and 
 went out into the buttery. " Poor old fool ! " she muttered, 
 taking down a pie and plate of doughnuts from a shelf " It's 
 always ' Peace,' ' Peace ! ' Eternally that gal ! And bimeby, 
 I s'pose, she'll be coming back here to take the lead ; and when 
 he dies, step in and heir the property, and wrong his own blood 
 relations ! " 
 
 Then she caught up the candle, and returned to the kitchen. 
 Transferring the steaming cakes from the tin baker on the hearth 
 to the table, she made another trip to the outer room for a plate 
 of golden butter and fresh herb cheese ; then pouring out the 
 tea, drew up two straight-backed kitchen chairs, and said gruffly 
 " Come, supper's ready ! " 
 
 Reuben took his place at the table ; but only drank a cup of 
 tea. 
 
 " Come, why don't you eat ? " exclaimed Hannah, herself 
 doing justice to the food. "You must be sick. You do look 
 dreadful pale. Hadn't I better do something for you ? " 
 
 " No it'll pass off after a while. No doctor's stuff for me, 
 Hannah. When this palpitation comes on, quiet's the best cure. 
 
 " Well, I don't think much o' medicine, either," said Hannah, 
 as she rose from the table "only roots and 'arbs, and sich. 
 There's some power in them. Patience thought a deal of her
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 121 
 
 garden her rue, and sage, and balm, and elecampane. She 
 was an excellent hand hi sickness Patience was." 
 
 "Yes," and Reuben sighed. "But she's gone where sickness 
 never comes, Hannah." 
 
 " That's true," echoed Hannah in a voice a little softened, 
 tying on a wide checked apron and rolling up her sleeves pre- 
 paratory to the process of " clearing "away ;" then with rapid 
 movements, she carried the food to the buttery, brought a bright 
 pan in which she washed the dishes, folded the snowy homespun 
 linen table cover and laid it evenly on the dressers, brought a 
 hemlock broom to sweep up the red brick hearth till the embers 
 crackled and sent a perfect shower of sparks up the wide chim- 
 ney mouth ; then, drawing the table nearer the fire, she placed 
 the candle in its centre and the snuifers evenly in the tray, and 
 bringing out her knitting work, sat down in a straight high- 
 backed chair close beside the hearth. 
 
 After knitting a few rounds, she^ stopped suddenly. " I meant 
 to go over to neighbor Sanders to-night, to get that wool for 
 carding ; but as you seem so poorly, p'raps I'd better stay at 
 home, Reuben." 
 
 " No, no ! don't stay for me, Hannah ! I feel better the 
 pain's almost gone now. I can sit still here by the fire or, if 
 I feel smart enough, write to Peace by and by. Go, Hannah ; 
 and jest tell neighbor Sanders that he can have that winter 
 wheat we talked about. I didn't know as I could spare it ; but 
 Jie can have what he wants." 
 
 ' "Well, I guess I will step over there for a little while then," 
 and Hannah knit briskly round on the gray stocking till she 
 reached the seam, then rolled it up hard, thrust the needles firm- 
 ly into the ball, put it into the great pocket she wore outside of 
 her dress, and brought out a large dyed woollen shawl and hood 
 of black quilted silk from the bedroom. 
 
 11
 
 122 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " Guess I wouldn't go out to the barn to-night, Reuben," she 
 paused to say, with her hand on the latch of the door leading 
 into the little outer entry " Chip '11 be home from the village 
 about nine, I guess and he'll attend to the critters." 
 
 After Hannah Ward had gone, Reuben sat in his arm chair 
 by the fire, alone with his own thoughts. It was very lonely 
 there in the old kitchen. It had been lonely always, since Pa- 
 tience's death ; and, except when Peace came home to spend her 
 few weeks of vacation, there was little to disturb the deep quiet 
 of the old house. But the fair girl, fast growing into woman- 
 hood and becoming daily more interested in her studies, did 
 not linger long at home. The commencement of every term 
 found her at the Seminary ; not, however, that she had learned to 
 love Reuben less, for she said to herself: " When my happy 
 school-days are over, I will go back to the farm-house again." 
 And so there were necessarily many lonely hours for him when 
 she was absent. 
 
 Hannah Ward had indeed been a faithful housekeeper to Reu- 
 ben in the literal sense of the term but nothing more. The 
 kind cheerful presence his sister had always diffused around was 
 wanting ; from her daily rounds of labor baking, churning, 
 washing and sweeping Hannah could afford no time for " idle 
 talkin'." She was economical, neat, and thrifty to a remarkaHe 
 degree. Indeed, neatness was the spinster's ruling passion. No 
 speck of dust dared intrude on her domains. On the polished 
 wood of the old dark bureau, the " hundred legged " table, the 
 mahogany lightstand with its claw feet, the carved cherry-wood 
 frame of the antique mirror, the woven carpet and braided rugs 
 which adorned the west room, not a mote settled ; even the 
 three long sunbeams slanting in through the holes in the shut- 
 ters had a pale thin aspect, and were not rich with a thousand 
 floating golden specks as sunbeams ought to be. Not a mote,
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 123 
 
 either, on the old tall clock in the kitchen corner or the straight 
 high-backed chairs ; and from the kitchen floor one might have 
 eaten, so scrupulously white was it kept. But the spinster's 
 passion was carried to a painful degree excluding all attempts 
 at adornment. No fresh wreaths of evergreen were twined 
 about the looking-glass no feathery asparagus with interwoven 
 bright red holly-berries decked the frame of the old clock no 
 dried grasses drooped gracefully from the old-fashioned china 
 vases on the little mantel in the west room as in Patience's 
 time ; because Hannah declared such all " trash " and " trum- 
 pery." 
 
 Everything had gone " by rule " since she came to the Ridge. 
 Old Tabby, now grown to venerable cathood, stepped demurely, 
 and with measured steps, across the evenly sanded floor, leaving 
 tracks from the hearth, where her stereotyped abiding-place was 
 the limits of a few particular bricks, in a straight line to the 
 door doubtless, because curved lines were strongly suggestive 
 to the spinster of disorder ; Bruno, now in a very stiff arid 
 rheumatic dotage, curled himself up in a warm corner, tolerated 
 because of his master's sake ; and it seemed, even, that the 
 pendulum of the clock oscillated with measured sweeps in a 
 dignified manner, lest it should be accused of lightness. 
 
 Out of doors, too, the one idea order held rule. The 
 box border along the garden beds was straight^ prim, formal ; 
 every sunflower and hollyhock nodded its head with precision ; 
 the old maid's pinks grew at a farther remove than of old from, 
 the ungallant bachelor's buttons, seeming to say in the triumph 
 of their single blessedness " See ! we ask no favors ! we can 
 stand by ourselves ! " and even the climbing beans, morning 
 glories, and creeping jennies, trailed along the garden fence and 
 over the kitchen windows more circumspectly than of old. 
 
 And among the living creatures on the farm, Hannah Ward's
 
 124 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 dominant spirit prevailed. The kine, forgetting their old time 
 freaks, never upset the equilibrium of milk-pail or milker, but 
 quietly chewed the cud doubtless of " bitter fancy " when 
 Hannah appeared with her pail and stool ; old Whitey meekly 
 dropped his ears at her approach ; the crow of the rooster 
 seemed less shrill and defiant, and every hen to have acquired a 
 subdued, by-rule, cackle. 
 
 And Chip, too, even his chattering tongue was often silent, 
 his quaint fancies unuttered, and his exuberant spirits chilled, 
 by the presence of the gruff-voiced housekeeper. Yes, a change 
 indeed had visited the Ridge : it was no longer the pleasant, 
 cheery home of Aunt Patience's tune. 
 
 As Reuben sat in silence by the kitchen fire, his thoughts 
 dwelt fondly on the child of his adoption. " By and by," he 
 murmured, " she will come back to brighten up the old house. 
 Another September will see her at the Ridge again, no more to 
 leave me. Dear child I must write to her and have her 
 home to Thanksgiving ! " and he went to an old-fashioned chest 
 of drawers, and took from its top an antique writing-case. 
 Opening the lid, he spread on it a sheet of paper and sat down 
 at the table to write. 
 
 This was something of a task for the farmer. His fingers 
 were cramped and stiff with hard labor ; he had had no occasion 
 to use a pen often ; and when Peace was at home, her nimble 
 fingers had always written for him. But he said to himself, 
 u No matter Peace wont laugh at my blots and mistakes ! " 
 wrote the letter in a large, square, old-fashioned hand sealed 
 and directed it, and laid it out on the table. 
 
 Then, opening a little compartment of the writing-case, he 
 took out a carefully folded paper. Reading it over and over, 
 he read aloud, with a smile, " Yes yes. ' To my well- 
 beloved adopted child, Peace Wedgewood, I give and bequeath '
 
 PEACE: on THE STOLEN WILL. 125 
 
 let me see ' the homestead, the meadow-farm, the wood- 
 land, the pasture-lot.' Yes, one day Peace will stand with the 
 best and richest of 'em. How this would meet poor Patience's 
 wishes ! All Peace's all but the legacy for Hannah. I mean 
 to leave her something, of course. Sometimes I think she looks 
 on the dear child with a jealous eye. I must see to that yes, 
 I must ! " At length he refolded the paper. Suddenly, as his 
 hand was uplifted to restore it to the writing-case, a sharp pang 
 arrested him. Pressing his hands over his heart, the paper, 
 loosened from their grasp, fluttered down to the floor. 
 
 The pang passed as suddenly as it came, and he stooped for- 
 ward to regain the paper. But ere his fingers had touched it, 
 again it came a fierce, wild, keen thrill, sharp as a dagger- 
 point, through his heavily beating heart. With convulsive grasp,* 
 clutching at the lid of the writing-case before him, Reuben sat 
 erect for a moment, then his stalwart form collapsed for an- 
 other spasm came, bringing a moment of such keen agony as he 
 had never before experienced such agony as no man knows 
 but once when the death-throes are at his heart ! Starting 
 up, he gave one shrill cry of suffering, then sank heavily back 
 again. The pang had passed but there was a suffocating 
 sensation in his throat a marble pallor about his lips lips, 
 that with a gurgling, indistinct utterance, framed out the last 
 word that ever warmed the struggling tired heart or passed into 
 sound " Mary ! " Then his head fell forward ; the death- 
 white face sank down on the lid of the old writing-case ; the 
 clutching fingers relaxed their hold ; the paper lay unfolded at 
 his feet ; and all was silence. 
 
 And the fire on the hearth crackled and died down ; the old 
 clock ticked shrill and solemn through the stillne'ss ; and the 
 candle burned low, wavered, cast ghostly, dusky, flickering 
 shadows athwart the wall, then went out in utter darkness. 
 
 11*
 
 126 PEACE I OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 But long ere its last gleam had faded, a soul had wandered from 
 below that old farm-house roof to the dim shores of Eternity 
 a lone bark had crossed the Silent River amid the gloom of the 
 chill night-time, and anchored in a still haven where nevermore 
 storms vex, skies frown, or sad winds blow. 
 
 And what said the solemn " tick ! " " tick ! " of the old clock 
 in the kitchen? what typified the smouldering ashes falling 
 down, charred and whitened, on the hearth ? what was the 
 burthen of the sad wind's moan, and the hollow swell of the 
 restless sea coming up through the awful stillness ? 
 
 Ah, there was but one answer " Death ! " " Death ! " 
 
 And so Reuben slept on. 
 
 Two hours later, Hannah Ward stepped into the dark still 
 kitchen, bringing with her through the opened door a gush of 
 chill outer air. 
 
 " What ! the candle out ? and the fire gone, too ? Why, 
 Reuben, are you asleep ? " and she groped along to his side, and 
 laid her hand on the shoulder of the form dimly outlined against 
 the faint glow of the dying embers. 
 
 With a shake, and a " Come, wake up ! " she groped about 
 for another candle on the mantel-shelf, raked up a coal from the 
 ashes, and, lighting it, placed it upon the table. 
 
 " Got asleep writing, hey ? " exclaimed the spinster as she 
 saw the open writing-case and the letter. " Come, Reuben, 
 wake up ! " Then her eye fell upon the open paper on the floor. 
 Stooping, she picked it up, and held it nearer the candle with 
 curious eye. 
 
 " Ha ! what is this ? A will ! Jest as I thought ! " she 
 muttered, a quick gleam of anger flushing her sharp face and 
 darting from her black eyes. " Jest as I've thought, all along. 
 I wish I could burn it ! " and her form trembled with passion.
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 127 
 
 "This comes of taking that good-for-nothing Mary Halpine's 
 brat to " bring .up ! " Quivering with anger, she dropped the 
 paper; then, bending over Reuben, laid her hand heavily on 
 his shoulder. He stirred not : and with an amazed " Well, I 
 never ! " she lifted up his bowed head. 
 
 But what was there in that upturned white face of the head 
 resting heavily against the high-backed chair that face, so 
 ghastly in the gleaming candle-light or the contact of the 
 nerveless, cold, pallid hand which fell by his side and touched 
 hers to chill Hannah Ward's heart with terror, and cause her 
 to stagger back against the wall for support ? 
 
 She was alone with a terrible guest a Presence, which, 
 unheralded, unattended, had crossed the threshold of that hum- 
 ble kitchen, and sat down quietly and sternly at the hearthstone 
 even Death ! 
 
 Then, in that hour, alone with the dead, a terrible temptation 
 passed athwart the brain of that hard, cold-hearted, avaricious 
 woman ; nor was the terror which chilled, her heart, and made 
 her teeth chatter, her lips livid, and her skinny hands to tremble, 
 sufficient to hold her aloof from the committal of a great sin. 
 
 With pale guilty face, and hands almost cold as the dead, she 
 bent down and clutched the paper ; rapidly thrust it into her 
 bosom glaring over her shoulder with straining eyeballs, mur- 
 muring exultingly, " Nobody sees me ! It is mine now ! " 
 
 Then, with a sudden shudder and a glance of terror at the 
 dead man, she shut the writing-case and carried it to its station 
 on the old chest of drawers, caught up her hood and rushed 
 toward the door. On the threshold she met Chip. 
 
 " Hurry ! Go over to Mr. Sanders ! " she exclaimed, wildly 
 clutching at his arm. "Run quick, Chip! Bring the neigh- 
 bors ! Reuben is dead ! "
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 What is man's love ? His vows are broke, 
 Even while his parting kiss ^s warm ; 
 
 But woman's love all change will mock, 
 
 And like the ivy round the oak, 
 Cling closest in the storm. 
 
 HALLECK. 
 
 What though the world has whispered thee " Beware ! " 
 Thou dost not dream of change. 
 
 MORRIS. 
 
 JULIE REVERE sat at midnight in the mansion where, fifteen 
 years before, she had been installed as wife. It was an elegant 
 establishment whither her husband had brought her after their 
 three months' tour abroad. Everything which art and luxury 
 could combine statues embodying the sculptor's dreams of 
 grace, pictures into which painters had wrought the beautiful 
 conceptions of their lives, rare antique transparent vases, tables 
 of inlaid mosaic strewn with costly bijouterie, couches and hang- 
 ings of velvet, carpets from eastern looms whose grouped flowers 
 seemed to rival Nature's all these were gathered into her apart- 
 ments, making such beautiful surroundings as would gladden an 
 Artist's eye, and transform the poorest life into a dream of poesy 
 and beauty. 
 
 But the mistress of this elegant mansion, with her dark, rich, 
 Southern beauty the curl of her short dainty upper lip like a 
 rolled up crimson rose-leaf, the fire in her dark dreamy eye 
 brighter than the flash of jewels gleaming on her person, 
 above all, the impetuous throb jof her loving woman heart - 
 
 (128)
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 129 
 
 was she as happy as when, at eighteen, she had stood in the 
 drawing-room of Magnolia Grove House, a bride ? Had her 
 dreams been realized ? 
 
 Alas, no ! no ! What woman who makes an idol, but, waking, 
 weeps to find it clay? Who worships blindly, passionately, 
 remembering not the command " Have ye no other gods before 
 me ! " but, ere long, is smitten down to dust ? Such wild, mad 
 loves exhaust the heart, or leave it a prey to its own consuming 
 feelings : red hot coals are they, that, dying, leave charred and 
 blackened ashes. 
 
 No ! spite of her splendor the sumptuousness of her fetes 
 the richness of her equipage and the costliness of her 
 apparel it was a weary life that Julie Revere led. If the 
 slight lines traced across her low pensive forehead, the anxious 
 troubled light which had crept into her dark eyes, the expression 
 of unrest quivering among the curves of her red lips, and the 
 indefinable nervous watchfulness which pervaded her whole 
 demeanor if these were the criterions, then indeed she was 
 not happy. 
 
 It was late at night ; and the waxen tapers in the silver can- 
 dlesticks on the toilet had burned low. Julie was in her dress- 
 ing-room. Minnie, the faithful slave girl who, with Jupiter, had 
 followed the fortunes of her mistress, had been dismissed ; and 
 Mrs. Revere sat alone. She was in full dress, for she had that 
 en ning entertained a party of her gay and fashionable friends 
 in the splendid saloons below ; and as she swayed herself to and 
 fro in a low cushioned chair, the faint glow of the tapers struck 
 a hundred shivered rays from the diamonds on her silken velvet 
 robe. Bandeaux of diamonds also broke up the midnight of her 
 hair ; and the face which ever and anon anxiously turned to the 
 hands of a tiny French clock on the mantel, looked pale, hollow, 
 almost sad, in the ghostly waning light.
 
 130 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 And she was sad then ; aye, miserable ; for she sat in utter 
 loneliness, awaiting the return of him who had not been beside 
 her that night as she received her guests, who seldom accom- 
 panied his wife into the saloons of others, who was rarely at her 
 side at church, concert, promenade or ball, in -social or domestic 
 life. 
 
 This was not the first time that Julie Revere had awaited 
 until midnight until the gray morning dawned, even for 
 her husband's return. It was a lonely, joyles"s life she led a 
 constant struggle to be gay with the gayest, happy with the hap- 
 piest to subdue that hungering cry of her heart ; for how had 
 she lived all those long years, without realizing that upon her 
 had fallen that bitter desolation that woe, than which no true 
 woman would not rather die than experience the lot of an un- 
 loved wife ? 
 
 The lives of such are sere, barren, arid wastes deserts 
 wherein no oases bloom, no springs of cooling water gush, no 
 feathery graceful palm-trees fling down their grateful shade ; 
 yet how many who smile amid their -desolation, teaching the eye 
 to sparkle, the cheek to bloom, the voice to swell in song and 
 echo musically in the laugh giving the world no token how 
 the heart is withering the while. 
 
 Grief and neglect kill slowly ; the heart can bear much ere it 
 breaks ; and a loving woman will forgive injuries, and bury the 
 thorns of disappointment though they rankle to the spirit's core. 
 So did poor Julie Revere. 
 
 But hours of neglect and coldness were fast doing their work 
 upon her. Not outwardly alone, for the lines on her forehead 
 were faint compared with the furrows in her heart whence the 
 plough of Despair had uprooted every green and pleasant thing. 
 At tunes she was capricious, petulant, almost insane ; then the 
 mood changed, and she would have humbled herself to dust for a
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 131 
 
 caress or love-word. The proud, defiant, agonized woman 
 the weak, loving girl each by turn held sway. And still 
 treading his own mad downward way, looking with cold scorn or 
 with intervals of fitful tenderness on this poor suffering woman 
 whose only weakness lay in loving too strongly an unworthy 
 object, went Augustus Revere. 
 
 It was a May night, cold for the season ; heavy clouds brood- 
 ing in the sky, completely shut out the stars ; and as Julie 
 Revere sat in the midnight silence, she heard the patter of rain- 
 drops on the leaves of the vine at her window. Throwing up 
 the sash, she leaned out to cool her heated throbbing head. 
 Long ago every footfall had died out from the streets ; and if 
 the slightest noise broke the silence the quick tread of some 
 belated traveller hastening homeward, or the watchman on his 
 rounds she leaned eagerly forward, listened anxiously till the 
 echoes died in the distance, then with weariness and disappoint- 
 ment, *sank back. 
 
 At last a hurried step came on the pavement, ascended the 
 flight of marble steps, the click of a night-key was heard^in the 
 lock, and Mr. Revere entered the hall and went up to his wife's 
 chamber. The watcher gave a long drawn sigh of relief, with- 
 drew her white jewelled hands from their nervous clasp, and 
 leaned slightly forward in an expectant attitude a rich bloom 
 breaking over her cheek. 
 
 Entering the room hurriedly, Revere's face was flushed ; and 
 his hair, still beautiful, and in thick curling masses unstreaked 
 with gray, was tossed in disorder over his head. Fifteen years 
 had left something of their impress on his face and form. His 
 features had lost much of their delicacy ; his fine elegant figure 
 had approached almost to corpulency ; and yet the general ex- 
 pression of his firm full lips and cold steel blue eyes, was little 
 changed.
 
 132 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Approaching his wife with a careless " What ! up yet, Jule ? " 
 he kissed her. 
 
 Julie recoiled slightly from the contact of those lips whereon 
 lingered the nauseating fumes of wine and tobacco ; but she re- 
 plied, " Yes, Augustus, I have been expecting you for an hour 
 past." ,, 
 
 Mr. Revere was not intoxicated. Wine never affected him to 
 drunkenness or imbecility. On the contrary, it seemed to 
 sharpen his faculties to acuteness ; therefore it had not escaped 
 him that Julie shrank from him. His brow darkened. 
 
 " Well, it seems that even my return, at this late hour, is not 
 welcome ! " he exclaimed with an oath. " Jule, what the devil 
 ails you ? You're cold as an iceberg ! " 
 
 For a moment the warm Southern blood of the proud woman 
 was up in her cheek, and an angry retort trembled on her lips ; 
 but she did not utter it. Nervous, weak, weary with the even- 
 ing's excitement, her watching, and his unkindness, she burst 
 into tears. 
 
 Revere saw that he had gone too far ; and he had a purpose 
 to accomplish that night which would not permit him to injure 
 her feelings past forgiveness ; so he pushed a low ottoman tow- 
 ards his wife, and seating himself on it rested his head in her 
 lap, saying soothingly : 
 
 " There, there, Jule, don't cry ! I didn't mean anything ; but 
 it does vex me to come home late nights, and find you ahvays 
 up watching, pale as a ghost. But kiss me, Jule let us not 
 quarrel ! I'm confounded tired, and half-sick to-night." 
 
 Julie Revere's dark eyes swam in tears ; but she crushed 
 them back with the strong impulse of her forgiving love, and 
 bent her head down to his, kissing his white forehead again and 
 again, threading her fingers through his thick curls. Bitter 
 thoughts had been in her heart ; often, as she sat alone in her
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 133 
 
 desolation, the pride of her nature whispered, " Why do you 
 love him so ? He is unworthy ! " But now, in the caresses she 
 lavished on him, her woman's heart was the prompter. It was 
 seldom of late that her husband had shown any symptom of ten- 
 derness so seldom, that, when such came, she drank them 
 eagerly as desert travellers quaff the few precious drops bub- 
 bling up from the sand-spring. And so before the words he had 
 that night uttered her pride had all melted ; and she bent over 
 him, kissing his forehead, murmuring " My dear Augustus ! 
 Love me, only love me ! " 
 
 To say that she had been the wife of such a man as Augustus 
 Revere for fifteen years without a knowledge of the life he led, 
 would not be credible. That life had been the legitimate result 
 of his youth. When, during the first years of the mercantile 
 life, upon which, with the assistance of a liberal investment of 
 her fortune inherited at her father's death shortly after her mar- 
 riage, he embarked when he often absented himself from her 
 on the plea of detention at his counting-room, Julie readily ex- 
 cused him. Afterwards, on pretence of being engaged for the 
 firm in extensive cotton speculations, he paid long visits to 
 Southern cities writing thence repeatedly for loans and drafts 
 on her banker, which she never refused ; nor then, did the trust- 
 ing woman once suspect how the passion of Gaming was obtain- 
 ing complete ascendency over her husband. 
 
 But latterly, when he seldom sought his home until the mid- 
 night hour was past, and then came, flushed and heated with 
 wine, demanding money in harsh, irritable tones when, in his 
 fitful slumbers, he babbled of cards and dice, winnings and 
 losses, how then could poor Julie Revere fail to realize the 
 degrading truth that she was the wife of a gambler ? 
 
 Ah, she learned what almost broke her heart ! but even then, 
 her wifely devotion did not fail. No means were untried to win 
 
 12
 
 134= PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 the deluded man from his ways. Faithful expostulations, plead- 
 ings, large loans to meet daily-recurring embarrassments, were 
 all of no avail. Even remonstrances failed ; answered only with 
 reproaches, or days of absence and silent scorn until, sinking 
 under his coldness and neglect, she forbore them. 
 
 Sometimes, indeed as for weeks, when Revere's winnings 
 were great, and mercantile affairs went on smoothly their life 
 was calm ; and if he was not profuse in his old-time lover dem- 
 onstrations, at least he was not unkind, and with an outward 
 show of attention accompanied his wife into society, where his 
 still elegant person and the polished manners he knew so well 
 how to assume rendered him a favorite ; but there were darker 
 hours, when, maddened' by losses, his demands for money became 
 violent and imperious and then again she yielded. 
 
 Thus this proud impetuous woman, with her haughty Southern 
 blood the mistress of a splendid household queen of the 
 world of Fashion, where her example was patterned, her smile 
 coveted, and her nod treasured whose rare beauty enslaved 
 others abroad in her own home, was a very slave to the fasci- 
 nation of a love she hugged tighter to her heart ; and literally 
 purchased the favor and attentions of her own husband with 
 her fortune. 
 
 But she said to herself, " I will bear it ! I might have let 
 him go his downward way alone I might have saved my for- 
 tune ; but it was my pride to uphold him in his business rela- 
 tions with men to make him master of a splendid home. And 
 the world shall never know what return he has rendered me ; 
 they shall never gloat over my anguish, and say, ' Behold ! an 
 unloved, neglected wife ! ' I can bear his scorn but no mock- 
 ing pity ! I will give festivals where rich and proud women 
 shall envy me ! they shall envy me him, even ! I will so 
 cover his every error that, to the eyes of the world, he shall
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 135 
 
 -never be humbled. This, for a time, until the last dollar of my 
 fortune has melted for I cannot resign his love while I have 
 the means of securing it this, for a time, until the crash comes 
 and we sink together, and then " 
 
 Ah yes ! That was the sad refrain to all her heart-cries, 
 WJiat then ? " 
 
 It was a fatal stream on which Julie Revere had embarked, 
 and she was powerless. Sometimes softest skies glassed them- 
 selves in waters on whose surface floated the rich blooming lotus- 
 flowers of Youth, Pleasure and Love and the voyager's fair 
 white hands were outstretched to grasp them. Alas, that they 
 withered in her touch ! But oftenest, thunder-clouds hung aloft, 
 and storms fell unpityingly and the waves surged and boiled 
 under her slight barque and then came to her ears the roar of 
 a deep dark cataract below. Sometimes Hope took the helm, and 
 leaning forward, pierced the gloom with eagle vision, pointing to 
 sunny skies and a pleasant shore beyond the wreck ; but often- 
 est, dark, grim, sullen Despair sat at the prow, pointing down- 
 ward, to the rushing fall. And so the boat drifted on. Already 
 she felt the wilder rocking and swaying of the waves already 
 she saw the seething, boiling foam the glassy brink over which 
 she must glide ; and the thunder-roar of the broken torrent 
 echoed up from below. 
 
 They were on the verge of the fall ! For, that night, Julie 
 Revere had given her last festival ; the last eagle of her once 
 princely fortune had been expended ; heavy mortgages lay on 
 her house, furniture, plate, and equipage ; her splendid wardrobe 
 and jewels, it is true, were yet untouched but, as the misera- 
 ble woman bent over the flushed face which lay on her lap, she 
 knew that once again her husband had left the gaming table a 
 loser, and was prepared to sacrifice these, her last available re- 
 source, for him. No wonder that she pleaded in a sad, heart- 
 hungry tone, " O, love me ! only love me ! "
 
 136 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 And with this insight into her character, do you wonder, 
 reader, that when that night he laid his head in her lap and re- 
 counted the old story of his losses when, with his fascinating 
 smile and honeyed persuasive words, he put his arm about her 
 neck and drew her lips to his, whispering " Only this once, dear 
 Jule only this time ! I know I shall be successful and retrieve 
 my ill luck ; and then, I will have done with this life forever ! " 
 do you wonder that, burying her face in his luxuriant curls, she 
 burst into tears, saying, " Thank God, Augustus, that this life 
 is coming to an end at last ! It is killing me ! Everything has 
 gone everything but my diamonds take them ! Let this be 
 your last visit to the play-house ! "
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 She stood a moment as a Pythoness 
 
 Stands on her tripod, agonized, and full 
 Of inspiration gathered from distress, 
 
 When all the heart-strings like wild horses pull 
 
 The heart asunder. 
 
 BYRON. 
 
 JULIE REVERE sat with hushed breath, for her husband had 
 fallen asleep with his head lying in her lap. 
 
 In that hour every womanly feeling of tenderness and softness 
 swayed her ; and she scarce dared to stir, lest change of position 
 should break his slumber quite forgetful of her own previous 
 hours of excitement and watching, and consequent need of rest. 
 Every now and then she bent tenderly over him, gazing on his 
 upturned face, and letting her soft white hands wander caress- 
 ingly and soothingly over his temples. His hair in thick curling 
 masses lay outspread over the folds of her rich dress ; his breath 
 was heavy and damp with the fumes of wine ; and a deep crim- 
 son flush upon his cheeks and lips told what poison-tide ran cir- 
 cling in his veins ; and as Julie noted the Upas foot-prints of dis- 
 sipation on a face whose every feature had once been the model 
 of proud beauty, quick rushing tears sprang to her eyes and 
 dropped silently -among his brown curls. 
 
 It was a sad, weary night-vigil, that woman kept over him on 
 whom she had wasted the best treasures of her heart ; and a 
 gloom deeper than that which shrouded the earth without settled 
 down on her spirit. She wept silently. Upon the earth a morn- 
 ing would sometime break the rain dropping down on the 
 12*
 
 138 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 vine-leaves at her window would cease ; but when would the 
 chill rain of neglect cease its pitiless peltings on her bleeding 
 heart, and the dawn break, for her ? 
 
 How many other hearts have wasted their treasures utterly ! 
 Rich freighted argosies, they sailed forth on sunny seas ; but the 
 chill winds blew out of gathering clouds in mid-ocean they 
 foundered on the jagged rocks of injury or neglect, and drifted 
 astray, wrecked and rudderless, or sank down to deepest caves 
 of forgetfulness, " unwept, unhonored, and unsung ! " 
 
 There is no security for the earthly affections. At the altar 
 we vow to " love, honor, and obey." Alas, that words spoken 
 so solemnly should be regarded so lightly ! Then come years, 
 when bright eyes grow dim with weeping delicate frames 
 shiver in the frosty airs of neglect and scorn and thick gray 
 ashes drop down on the hearth-stones of our hearts. . And then 
 such weary, weary years, dragging their slow circles into eter- 
 nity ! No hope that from those dead ashes can be rekindled the 
 vivifyiag fire of answering love ! No hope that from out the 
 thickening folds of despair one ray can gild our gloom ! 
 
 But in such hours, when all of earthly loves fail us when 
 the voice of Hope, the sweet singer, is heard no more when 
 the heart sinks, and the decay of our affections falls chillingly on 
 the spirit when for us there is neither love, or hope, nor any 
 other joy, and we only hear the toll of their death-bells then, 
 oh then, if there is One arm reached down to help us, One eye 
 to look down lovingly, One heart that will never thrust us out 
 that arm, that eye, that heart, the All-Merciful's how blessed 
 are we still ! 
 
 But of this Helper, Julie Revere had no experience. She 
 who had set up an idol between herself and her Maker, could 
 not see the Divine for the human ; and now, when the shrine 
 was crumbling and the idol tottering, her gaze followed it down,
 
 PEACE I OR THE STOLEN WILL. 139 
 
 down, to the dust. It must be trampled, broken, and her heart 
 purified from its unholy worship, ere she could grow purer or 
 happier. 
 
 For two long hours the sleeper lay with his head tossing to 
 and fro in an uneasy slumber. Spite of the gentle pressure of 
 Julie's fingers on his throbbing temples, she could not magnetize 
 him into calmness ; spite of the silken cushions she gathered up 
 from a couch near by and heaped beneath his head, he constant- 
 ly changed his position and his sleep grew more disturbed and 
 fitful. The glow on his cheeks became red as the flush of fever, 
 his respirations came and went audibly, and deep lines corru- 
 gated his forehead which Julie vainly tried to smooth out with 
 her delicate fingers. But though he tossed to and fro uneasily 
 and dreams ran riot in his brain, he did not waken. His slum- 
 ber seemed to grow more heavy in its very fitfulness. 
 
 Presently he tossed his hands aloft with violent gesticulations 
 and uttered broken sentences. 
 
 " Six thousand ! it is too much ! you shall not have it ! 
 Golding, you shall not have it go away ! Money ! money ! 
 you want money! Well, Jule will give it to us! Jule 
 yes, she has thousands gold and diamonds ! But don't tell her 
 she is not my wife ! Ah, SHE comes ! she stands before me ! 
 Mary Halpine, go away with your haunting eyes ! " and he 
 flung up his pale hands, wildly beating the air. 
 
 Every word fell thrillingly on the listener's heart. She me- 
 chanically repeated them " ' Is not my wife ! Mary Halpine ! ' 
 What can he mean ? " then .groaning bitterly " ' Money 
 you want money ! ' Yes, and Jule will give it to us ! ' Oh, 
 Hugh Golding, you are the lure, then, to his rum? You dog 
 his steps, and drag him to these vile haunts ? With your com- 
 ing, come also his darkest moods. I see it now. It was for 
 that, he begged my diamonds. Well, let them go ! " she added
 
 140 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 proudly. "You have won my jewels but you failed in win- 
 ning my heart. With all his weaknesses, this poor dreamer," 
 and she laid "her hand tenderly on Revere's forehead, " has the 
 virtue you never boasted, my libertine cousin ? " 
 
 Alas for woman's faith ! Alas .for thee, poor Julie Revere, 
 when the awakening comes ! 
 
 Still Revere's sleep was troubled, still he tossed about un- 
 easily, though nothing more escaped his lips ; and Julie bathed 
 his forehead in perfumed water from an elegant cut glass toilet 
 bottle, gently unloosed his neck tie and unbuttoned .his velvet 
 vest, for his breathing seemed labored, then stirred the fragrant 
 air of the luxurious dressing-room with her jewelled ivory fan-. 
 In loosening his vest, the elegant cashmere dressing gown fell 
 back ; and, protruding from a side pocket, the corner of a folded 
 paper met Julie's eye. What was it? Some note for "debts 
 of honor " contracted that evening ? She felt almost sure it was 
 such she must see it ? Perhaps to meet this, he had begged 
 her diamonds ! Heart-sick and shuddering, she said, bitterly : 
 " Yes, I have a right to know this ! " and drew forth the paper. 
 As her fingers unfolded it, she saw her mistake. A torn en- 
 velope fluttered down to the carpet ; it was a letter and she 
 would have returned it, had not her eye caught her own name 
 and Golding's signature ; then, ere she fully comprehended the 
 act, with one lightning glance she had taken in the. whole. 
 
 "TBEMONT HOUSE, Boston, May 12th, 184-. 
 " DEAK Gus : 
 
 " Has Julie come down with the diamonds yet ? I hope so, 
 for I'm in a devilish tight box here bad luck ever since I've 
 been in this old Puritan city scarcely spotted enough to meet 
 my hotel bills. Shall set my face Gothamward in three days 
 at farthest.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 141 
 
 " Thought I'd drop a line, that you might have no excuse 
 about not being in readiness with the money, as I go, on to 
 Phila., Saturday next, and don't want to be detained in New 
 York longer than necessary for our interview, so meet me at 
 Delmonte's on the arrival of the Friday evening train, with the 
 needful." 
 
 " By the way, since I left you, I've been troubled with some 
 few conscientious qualms because I compromised the affair so 
 cheaply. Six thousand only, for a paper that would have lodged 
 you in Sing Sing ! for, Revere, you know that, in plain Eng- 
 lish, you are a bigamist, and I could have proved it in any court 
 in the land. 
 
 " But a bargain's a bargain. Meet me with the money, and 
 I'll deliver up to you the marriage certificate ; and Julie will 
 never know that, when you made her Mrs. Revere, you were the 
 lawful husband of little Mary Halpine. 
 
 " At Delmonte's, Friday night. Beware, if you fail me ! 
 
 " Yours, GOLDING." 
 
 " P. S. Have just had a call from Jasper, who saw my name 
 among the ' arrivals,' and looked in upon me with his chum. 
 All right. A fine-looking fellow will bear off College honors, 
 so his friend says. A trifle steadier than when you or /were 
 younger he is, I reckon. . 
 
 H. G." 
 
 Every word was graven on Julie Revere's brain as with a 
 pen of fire ; then the paper dropped from the cold fingers locked 
 tightly over her heart. A hue of marble settled on every rigid 
 feature ; a stony gaze grew in her eyes ; and for a moment her 
 teeth gleamed ghastly white through the parted lips that closed 
 over them firm as though cut from iron. On her forehead, two 
 swollen veins stood out like knotted purple whip-cords, then the
 
 142 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 deep violet tide faded, and rushed back to congeal upon her 
 heart, leaving her pallid as the dead. She did not speak or 
 groan, for her breath seemed frozen, her form petrified ; but that 
 wild, agonized gleam almost of insanity looked out from 
 her midnight eyes, like a wounded wild beast about to spring 
 from its lair. 
 
 The sleeper's head lay very quiet now in her lap. His brown 
 curls almost touched the hands clasped over a frozen heart ; 
 there was no sound in that chamber not the throb of a pulse, 
 or the rustle of a silken curtain only the faint tick of the tiny 
 mantel clock, and the patter of the dropping rain on the vine- 
 leaves ; but had a thunder-clap broken above, it could not have 
 dissolved the icy deadly thrall which bound Julie Revere. 
 
 But at length the thoughts working idly in the dreamer's 
 brain grew denser; his memory, wandering in the long gone 
 years, gathered about a face long dim ; and his thoughts shaped 
 themselves into a word, which he uttered as his head turned 
 uneasily on the silken curtain and his thick curls fell back 
 against the hands clasped over Julie's marble heart " Mary ! " 
 
 The spell was broken. Julie saw it all. For fifteen years 
 oh, how many years of shame ! had she been that man's dupe ; 
 for how could she know that the poor girl, whose name he 
 whispered in his slumbers, had been laid to rest ere the bridal 
 ring was on her white finger, or the bridal kiss had touched her 
 coral lips ? ' Mary Halpine ! ' She saw it all now. And he, 
 for whose truth she could have staked her life of whom she 
 had said to her own heart ' " Despite his neglects and his cold- 
 ness, he is mine all mine " oh, what a viper she had nour- 
 ished ! And herself? what was she now ? what had she been 
 all those long, long years, but a dishonored woman ? 
 
 Oh, it was terrible ! She went almost mad with anguish 
 she beat her forehead with her clenched hand she thrust the
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 143 
 
 head upon her lap to the sofa close by, as though his touch were 
 poison then rose to her feet. 
 
 Then rapidly, like a wounded tigress, she paced up and down 
 the apartment. Furiously tearing off her jewels the neck- 
 lace, which rose and fell with every heavy respiration from her 
 exquisitely moulded bust, the bracelets, that, wrought into twist- 
 ed serpents, seemed to evolve lightning from their glittering 
 gemmed scale?, the costly watch and chatelaine at her girdle 
 and going to the toilet, where, imbededd in their dainty velvet- 
 lined caskets, lay silvery pearls flashing and pale, blood-red 
 rubies, and emeralds of the richest sea green she gathered 
 them all up with eager clutching hands, dashed them down on 
 the carpet, trampled them madly into its depths till their fine 
 gold settings were indented and broken, and the sharp gems 
 pierced through her thin satin slippers, wounding her feet. 
 
 " There ! " she cried, her eyes luminous with terrible anger, 
 her white lips curved with terrible scorn. " There they lie 
 the jewels that tempted you ! They won you miserable 
 wretch ! " and she went up to him and shook his shoulder, hiss- 
 ing her words into his ear " They won you take them ! 
 you have had all else ! Soul and body I have been your slave 
 soul, body, and fortune. Oh, why did you not come to me 
 and say, ' It is your gold I want not you ' ? "Why did you 
 come to me with lies on your lips ? Why did you drag me 
 down from my happy girlhood innocence, from my father's arms, 
 to misery madness moral death? Augustus Revere, God 
 will judge you for that ! Do you hear ? If there be a God in 
 heaven, he will judge you for that base man, devil, fiend ! " 
 
 But the man on the silken sofa slept on* Pitiable sight ! 
 Dead to her maddened words unmoved by the whirlwind of 
 passion which desolated her heart, sweeping away tenderness, 
 pity, love, on its stormy track ; still he slept on. His slumber
 
 144 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 was no longer broken and fitful ; the wine-flush had faded from 
 his cheek, leaving him pale and haggard ; his eyes were rimmed 
 with dark circles ; his hands fell prone down the side of the 
 couch ; and his breath came deep and regularly with every long 
 low swell of his lungs. 
 
 Vainly Julie uttered her agonized reproaches ; vainly her 
 dainty white hands shook Revere's shoulder with almost giant 
 strength ; vainly she'trode the broken gems into the carpet ; and 
 a curve of fine scorn seemed chiselled on her lips. For he lay 
 not, as she imagined, in the heavy stupor of the drunkard's sleep. 
 She knew not how, often of late, and every night since his inter- 
 view with Golding and its terrible revelation, in order to deaden 
 his brain and obtain sleep he had revived a long forgone habit. 
 During his college days, in common with a set of idle specula- 
 tive classmates, he had often indulged in opium reveries ; now, 
 he drugged his nightly wines for a narcotic ; and thus, getting 
 paler and stiller, his deadened brain lapsing into perfect forget- 
 fulness, he lay under its influence. 
 
 With utter contempt and loathing Julie spoke. 
 
 " Fool, fool, that I have been these long years to love, aye, 
 worship, such a thing as this ! " and she struck at his nerveless 
 arm with her jewelled fan. " For fifteen years to worship him 
 to bring him house, home, fortune, everything ! literally to 
 faty his notice. To have no token of tenderness not even the 
 commonest attentions of a wife from her husband, save I bought 
 them with my gold ! For fifteen years filling a place such as 
 abandoned women fill believing myself his wife ha, ha ! " 
 and she laughed such a wild shrill laugh that its echo startled 
 her. " His wife ha, ha ! that is good ! Here I stand, while 
 he sleeps his beastly drunken sleep that is good, too ! 
 Angel man devil ! Coming here from his drunken revels, 
 to wheedle my last gift my jewels ! Yes, he shall have them
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 145 
 
 every one of them," and she stamped her bleeding feet again 
 and again upon the crushed gems " every one of them ! I 
 wish they were so many fiends to drag his soul down to perdi- 
 tion aye, every one of them and have them, with my 
 curse ! " 
 
 Still Revere slept, every long low respiration beating on her 
 heart like the stroke of an iron hammer. 
 
 " Yes, sleep on ! " she cried with withering scorn. " Men 
 who break women's hearts can afford to sleep soundly aye, 
 sweetly, too. A merry pastime is it ! But no matter : I will 
 touch your heart yet ! " and going to her writing-desk she 
 dashed off a few hasty impetuous lines, threw them on the 
 carpet beside the crumpled letter and the trampled jewels 
 snatched up a silken mantle from a chair, flung open the door, 
 and fled rapidly down the staircase and out into the dark wet 
 night whither ? 
 
 13
 
 CHAPTER XVI . 
 
 " Go now the lingering curse is given, 
 The spell is laid on thee ; 
 The scorn of earth the wrath of heaven 
 Is in thy destiny." 
 
 \ 
 Oh ! that my heart was quiet as a grave 
 
 Asleep in moonlight ! 
 
 ALEXANDER SMITH. 
 
 THE gray night-clouds dissolved in gentle rain; and as the 
 sun rose fair and bright above the mighty city, the hum of 
 awakened life grew deeper, louder, in the crowded man swel- 
 ling to its noontide height, then declining with the day ; nor was 
 it umtil the sun neared his setting, and long lines of golden light' 
 slanted through the rosy silken curtains of the luxurious dress- 
 ing-room where he lay, tinging the perfumed air with a soft, 
 glowing haze not until then, did Augustus Revere awake 
 from his lethargic sleep. 
 
 All day long, domestics had come and gone through the silent 
 rooms of the mansion ; Minnie had vainly sought her mistress 
 wondering at her strange absence, the broken jewels imbedded 
 in the carpet, and still more at her master's protracted slumber 
 which resisted all attempts of rousing him therefrom. 
 
 When Revere awoke, a physician whom he recognized bent 
 above him. 
 
 Minnie glided cautiously in, shut the door behind her, and 
 went to the sofa where the bewildered man sat. 
 
 " "Where's your mistress ? Send her to me 1 " he said petu- 
 
 (146)
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 147 
 
 lantly. " She was here when I went to sleep. "What ! night, 
 almost? Can I have slept so long?" and he looked in per- 
 plexed surprise to the western window. 
 
 The mulattress placed a confused mass of broken jewelry and 
 two written papers in his hand. 
 
 " Lord, Massa Revere, 'pears like something dredful's hap- 
 pened. Missis 'nowhar to be found ; and here's her diamonds, 
 and rings, and splendid watch, all broke into bits and just stamp- 
 ed into the carpet. 'Pears like as if she's gone ravin' 'stracted. 
 Here's some letters, too, I found 'long side p'raps Missis says 
 there, where she's gone to. Do read, Massa ! " And the terri- 
 fied slave crouched down at his feet. 
 
 With bewildered gaze, Revere looked at the broken, scarred 
 jewels ; then his eye fell on Golding's letter. In an instant he 
 comprehended it all. With a groan of mingled rage and de- 
 spair, he crumpled it in his clenched hand; then ran his eye 
 over the paper whereon, in blotted, heavy pen strokes, as if 
 written under the maddest excitement, were a few anguished 
 words in Julie's hand. 
 
 " Augustus Revere, a dreadful fire is in my heart ! It burns 
 it burns ! Your hand kindled it. May God forgive you I 
 never will ! One hour ago, so wholly soul and body, heart and 
 brain was I your slave, I would have lain down at death's door 
 to save you a single pang now, now, I am about tempted to 
 stop forever your vile heart's throbbings ! I might kill you 
 where you lie in your beastly drunken sleep but I will not! 
 Live, for her of whom you have babbled in your sleep 
 her, who, perchance, had not the gold and lands for which you 
 won me and made me what lam a mad, ruined, heart-broken 
 woman ! Live, to know how I scorn, loathe, aye, hate you ! 
 And, oh God, to think I have so loved you ! But no matter, 
 the world is wide somewhere must there be room for this
 
 148 PEACE I OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 wrung heart, this .wild brain. Lest I do you harm, I go ! God 
 forgive you I cannot ! " 
 
 " What is it, Massa ? " asked the terror-stricken woman at his 
 feet, watching the pallid face, dilated straining gaze, and trem- 
 bling nerveless hands of the man before her. " Massa Revere, 
 for de Lord's sake, what is it ? Is Missis Julie dead ? " 
 
 " Go down, slave ! Have done with your infernal talking ! " 
 thundered her master, stamping his foot heavily into the imbed- 
 ded Cashmere roses of the carpet his eye kindling, and his 
 lips livid with passion or fear But not a word of this ! not a 
 word of these letters or .these jewels, as you value your life! 
 Do you hear ? " and he grasped her shoulder till his nails sank 
 through her attire into the flesh. " Do you hear ? " 
 
 " Yes, Massa ! " and she shrank in terror and pain from his 
 iron grasp. 
 
 " Then leave me instantly ! " 
 
 Affrighted and trembling, the slave woman shrank away. 
 
 Late on the evening of the ensuing day, Golding entered a 
 private saloon at Delmonte's gambling house. For a half hour 
 he impatiently awaited the arrival of Revere ; then a waiter 
 tapped at the door and put a note into his hand. 
 
 " Golding : I am confined to my room with illness, and can- 
 not meet you at Delmonte's, per agreement. Come to me. 
 
 " Yours, REVERE." 
 
 " Well, if that's all, I'll go. I knew he would not dare play 
 me false ! " and Golding went out. Walking hastily up the 
 business portions of the city, he soon found himself above the 
 Battery and Park in a quiet and aristocratic quarter. Ascend- 
 ing the steps of an elegant mansion, a ring gained him imme- 
 diate admittance.
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 149 
 
 Revere sat in the library where their last interview had taken 
 place ; and looking pale and haggard stepped forward to meet 
 him. 
 
 " Sorry to find you ill, my boy ! This little affair hasn't wor- 
 ried you, I hope ? Perhaps Jule clung to the diamonds - 
 women do love baubles, they say and you had trouble in rais- 
 ing the money ? Am sorry, 'pon my honor jbut here's the doc- 
 ument ! " and Golding drew forth the marriage certificate 
 from his pocket-book. 
 
 Revere's face was pale as death, but a lightning gleam glit- 
 tered in his eyes, and an iron curve settled on his lips. 
 
 " Hugh* Golding," and as he spoke he stepped to the door 
 and turned the key in the lock, transferring it to his own pocket, 
 and, coming back, stood side by side with his visitor " Hugh 
 Golding, I was not so ill but I could have met you to-night ; but 
 I wanted you here here in my own house in my own 
 power ! Do you hear ? in my own power ! Julie knows all ! 
 Last night your letter fell into her hands it matters not how. 
 Blame your own cursed stupidity for ever writing it ! She has 
 gone ! There are her jewels ! " pointing to the table where 
 in a gilt card-receiver, lay a flashing heap diamonds, rubies, 
 opals, mingling- their sparkling scintillations. " Look at them 
 examine them their settings all defaced, broken, trampled 
 upon by her angry feet, but the gems uninjured yet. Still 
 would they bring me thousands ; but, mark me, not one dollar 
 raised from their sale shall ever cross your palms. For that 
 paper you hold in your hand must be mine without an equiva- 
 
 Golding drew back. " Never ! " he said fiwnly through his 
 shut teeth. 
 
 " Softly," replied Revere in a cool hard tone as though secure 
 of his position. "We are alone I have the power! By 
 
 13*
 
 150 PEACE: on THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 means of this " and he drew a revolver " will I compel you ! 
 And, by Heaven, if worst comes to worst, I will not hesitate." 
 
 " Ha, two can play at that game, I reckon ! " Golding thrust 
 his hand into his breast pocket. But a hasty oath fell from his 
 lips his face grew pale his hand fell nervously to his side. 
 He was unarmed ! In hurriedly changing* his coat at the hotel 
 before proceeding to Delmonte's, he had left his weapon. 
 
 A grim smile broke the iron curve on Revere's lips. 
 
 " I was prepared for this, or prepared for its opposite. It is 
 best for you that you have no weapon I should not have per- 
 mitted its use ! " and his eye darkened and his hand touched 
 his revolver significantly. " Fifteen years under your thrall 
 have not been so pleasant but I desire freedom. This last 
 week's misery has made me bold. Resign me the paper, and 
 you leave this house a safe man ; refuse it " and he raised 
 the weapon. 
 
 "You dare not murder me,!" said Golding with a sickly 
 smile, and an attempt at careless bravado. 
 
 " Dare not ? " echoed Revere scornfully. " You do not know 
 me. I am a desperate man ! and a desperate man dares any- 
 thing ! The paper ! " and he reached forth his hand. 
 
 To resist was folly madness. Golding saw it. He yielded ; 
 and though futile rage played on every feature, he deposited the 
 paper in the outstretched hand. 
 
 " I thank you I am your debtor ! " and with a mocking 
 bow, Revere took the key from his pocket and unlocked the 
 door. 
 
 On the threshold Golding paused. A gleam of hate life his 
 eyes, and a deaUly smile shot athwart his lips. 
 
 " Yes, you are my debtor, Augustus Revere ! But for that 
 paper I have rendered you up this night I will yet have ample 
 recompense ! That recompense shall be in my revenge ! There
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 151 
 
 is one way yet through your boy ! I can touch your heart to 
 the quick there ! Go to him - claim him now, if you will 
 but I will have been there before you ! " 
 
 There was a click of the key in the lock after Gelding's de- 
 parture ; and as hour after hour of the night waned, Augustus 
 Revere sat with pale face bowed on his hands, and eyes bent fix- 
 edly on the paper before him ; then rising, he locked it care- 
 fully in an inner drawer of his escritoire, and went back to his 
 seat. So the gray dawn found him his eyes still shaded by 
 his pallid hands. 
 
 Was it possible that those were tears trickling silently through 
 his pale fingers ? Had that iron man a heart, where, in some 
 loiig-closed secret chamber, had been lain away, unknowingly, 
 some tender memory of the injured girl who long years before 
 had mouldered back to dust? Had Remorse, with clutching 
 fingers, secured him for her prey ?
 
 CHAPTERXVII. 
 
 Listen ! There's shame, and hissing, and contempt, and none but laugh 
 who names me ; none but spits measureless scorn upon me ! 
 
 BROWNING. 
 
 IN his room at C College, among a party of convivial 
 
 friends and class-mates, where wit and wine flowed freely, and 
 the brilliant coruscations of Jasper Golding's humor flashed 
 athwart ihe social atmosphere like meteors there and thus, 
 came to him the knowledge which arrested the song and jest 
 upon his lips. 
 
 A letter was placed in his hand ; and though for a minute he 
 seemed struck by a sudden blow, reeled in his chair and clung to 
 the table for support, while his cheek was blanched to marble 
 hue, he folded it calmly after the reading, thrust it carelessly 
 into his vest pocket, and, turning to a companion, said with an 
 attempt at a smile : 
 
 " Pass the wine, Howland ! My throat is as dry as the old 
 Prex's sermons ! Pour me a bumper." 
 
 Louis Howland obeyed ; but hardly had the glass touched 
 Jasper's lips before his hand wavered, the goblet fell, and he 
 sank in a dead faint from his chair. In five minutes more, 
 completely recovered by the cold water his companions had 
 freely bestowed on his face, he took his seat again at the table. 
 
 " What's to pay, Golding ? Bad news ? Anybody ill or 
 dead ? " inquired a class-mate opposite. 
 
 Jasper's fresh beautiful boyish lip curled scornfully ere it was 
 bathed hi the rich red wine and a light laugh confirmed his 
 words :
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 153 
 
 " Nonsense ! It was absolutely nothing a mere trifle, that's 
 all ! Positively, I'm getting womanish ! I declare, my hand 
 shakes ! Here, Bob drink a sentiment with me ' Confusion 
 to ' pony ' chums, prayer-bells, and peaching tutors ! From 
 these, and other like college nuisances, 'good Lord deliver 
 us ! ' " and he held out a brimming goblet. 
 
 The toast was received with shouts of approbation; after- 
 wards, Bob Darrah sang a " smoking song," his head lost in 
 the floating cigar-wreaths about him, and his feet at an angle of 
 forty-five degrees on Jasper's study-table ; then followed other 
 songs, impromptu witticisms, gay badinage, and lively conversa- 
 tion the latter turning mostly on college affairs, sometimes in- 
 terlarded with expletives neither choice nor classical, though 
 often not unapt, detailing how this class-mate made a complete 
 " fizzle " in that day's recitation how the " old Prex " was 
 " down " on that one, and had him " up " for misdemeanor 
 what a " rich " time a quartet of dignified, bearded Sophs, had 
 "smoking out" a newly-fledged Freshy or how some par- 
 ticularly obnoxious tutor, convinced that " something was rotten 
 in the state of Denmark," made the discovery of a brace of 
 antique defunct cats in his dressing-closet; or, returning late 
 soine dark night from a visit to his Dulcinea, on gaining his 
 room, met apparently some monster visitant from* Goblin-land, 
 which proved eventually to be some superannuated white horse 
 perfectly at home among the said tutor's Greek " roots," giving 
 token of his appreciation of the Classics by converting them liter- 
 ally into dead (and eaten) languages ! 
 
 But over all the evening's festivities the utmost good humor 
 prevailed ; and no laugh rang louder, or wit-shaft cut keener, 
 than Jasper Gelding's. 
 
 " Come fellows Edmonds, Reade, Darrah, all of you let's 
 break up. It's late the tutors will be sneaking round," urged
 
 154 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Louis Rowland, rising ; for he saw that their young host was 
 drinking to excess. 
 
 " No ! no ! let's make a night of it. Tutors be hanged ! " Sit 
 down, boys ! " and Jasper sprang up and locked the door, and 
 placed the key in his pocket. 
 
 " No we must go. It's time we were all asleep, or at our 
 books. Think of your morrow's recitations. I must bid you 
 good night, at least," and Howland approached the door. 
 
 His advice seemed sensible. Jasper unlocked the door, and 
 in three minutes all had passed out. But Howland walked a 
 few steps along the passage, then returned. 
 
 " Golding, I do not want to intrude but / was not deceived 
 about that letter. There was some bad news in it. Can I be 
 of any assistance to you ? My purse " and he drew it from 
 his pocket. 
 
 A quiver contracted Jasper's beautiful lips ; for an instant he 
 bowed a forehead white as a girl's and overswept with rings of 
 brown hair on Louis Howland's manly shoulder ; his hand 
 wrung that which clasped his. Then he choked down the 
 rising softness, raised his head, and spoke huskily : 
 
 " God bless you, Howland ! but you can do nothing. Only 
 leave me ! " 
 
 Louis Howland passed out, looking back with something like 
 moisture in his own fine dark eyes. When alone, Jasper drank 
 off rapidly glass after glass of wine, then flung himself down on 
 a chair at the window and leaned his forehead on the sill. Not 
 a groan, tear, or sob escaped him ; the wine circling in his veins 
 failed to warm him ; he was cold cold as death. 
 
 O, terrible, when the thunderbolt falls headlong from a clear 
 sky, blasting, blackening the fresh tree, steeping its green verdure 
 in liquid fire, scarring it to its core ! 
 
 So had all the hopes that bloomed for that proud, sensitive,
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 155 
 
 noble-hearted, ambitious boy perished so had every green and 
 pleasant thing been stripped from his life, and his heart been 
 stricken. Like a lightning stroke it came that cruel, cun- 
 ning, fiendishly devised letter, wherein Golding sought to reach 
 the father's heart through his boy's. Until this hour had this 
 knowledge been hoarded and now, a lie wrought into its 
 whole fabric, it came wild, maddening, stunning. There, 
 upon the table, lay the terrible revelation " Augustus Eevere 
 is your father ! You are the child of shame ! " More much 
 more of hypocritical sorrow and hollow offers of kindness 
 had Golding written ; but Jasper only kept his eyes bent de- 
 spairingly on those fatal, stunning words " The child of 
 shame ! " 
 
 Alas for the dreams of his proud heart, his fresh youthful 
 aspirations, his ambitious spirit ! all stricken down to dust. To 
 the future his gaze went forward ah, such a future, with that 
 stain, that heritage of shame and sin ! The thought of those 
 coming years was the keenest pang. 
 
 He sprang up and paced the floor madly. Save for two 
 blood-red spots on his cheeks, his face was pale as marble. His 
 eyes burned with a fitful hollow brilliancy, like lamps shining 
 out of a tomb. 
 
 " Terrible ! I had rather died than learned this ! God ! 
 why did he keep it from me, to reveal at this late day ? Why 
 did he not keep silent eternally, or tell me earlier, ere I built 
 me up such a fair bright future, when I had associated her 
 with every dream, and said, ' To win Orah Rowland will I do 
 this, and this'? Oh such an elixir as her love would have 
 proved ! By what feats of prowess would I have won it ! 
 what conquests in the world of Mind and Thought ! I would 
 have gone on from victory to victory, wresting laurel after laurel 
 till the crown was woven to lay at her feet. Now now
 
 156 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 what have we in common ? she the peerless, proud girl, and 
 I, the humbled, disgraced, degraded offspring of a debauchee ? 
 In her purity and her pride, she would strike me into dust with 
 the lightning glances of her eyes. Oh, this is bitterest of all ! " 
 and the agonized boy flung himself on his bed in a wild passion 
 of tears blessed tears, for they saved him from madness ! 
 
 From that night, began the downward course of Jasper 
 Golding. 
 
 Maddened by the one haunting thought which followed him 
 everywhere, he rushed headlong into the wildest vortex of dissi- 
 pation drank deeply of the wine-cup, handled the dice, drove 
 fast horses on the race-ground, frequented theatres and every 
 place of public amusement in the adjoining city vainly seeking 
 to drown memory in Pleasure's Lethean wave. It were boot- 
 less to recount the steps by which he trod his rapid downward 
 way. A high, proud, sensitive soul, suddenly stung into mad- 
 ness, is not long in rushing to its own ruin. In the maddening 
 anguish which rent the poor youth's heart the blight dropped 
 over his future and the wide chasm which separated him, the 
 illegitimate, penniless son, from the proud, pure, patrician girl 
 there was enough to appal a stronger nature than he possessed ; 
 and it was but a legitimate resist that he should dash into the 
 path which led still further from her side. 
 
 But this could not last always. Dissipation and late hours 
 told upon him ; neglect of study and total failure in recitation 
 were not infrequent ; midnight orgies, from which he often 
 returned in a state of intoxication, could not always be kept 
 concealed, though generous classmates often bore him to his 
 room and remained with him the night through, that the tutors 
 should not find him thus ; at length the sad, disgraceful finale 
 came. A letter was forwarded to his guardian " Hugh Gold- 
 ing, Esq., New York city," Stating that, " owing to irregularities
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 157 
 
 of conduct, neglect of study, and defiance of college discipline, 
 it had become the necessary duty of the Faculty to forthwith 
 expel his ward, Jasper Golding, from the University." 
 
 Hugh Golding read this letter with a smile. " It works well. 
 I told you, Augustus -Revere, I would reach your heart yet ! " 
 then, re-enveloping it, he directed it to the gambler merchant, 
 and started to seek Jasper, whom it was his policy not to seem 
 to desert. The remorse-stricken Revere also sought his son ; 
 but too late ! Both guardian and father were unsuccessful Jas- 
 per had disappeared. 
 
 " At least, my revenge is gained ! " said Golding as he re- 
 turned from his fruitless journey. " Though I did hope the lad 
 would give me a clue to his whereabouts. But no matter now ! 
 I can afford to wait patiently his turning up I do not intend 
 to desert him altogether. Meantime, with his last quarter's 
 remittance which, thank Fortune, I never suffered to reach 
 its destination I can live ! " 
 
 14
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Oh ! fear not in a world like this, 
 And thou shalt know ere long 
 
 Know how sublime a thing it is 
 To suffer and be strong. ., 
 
 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 PEACE stood upon a flight of marble steps at the door of an 
 elegant Fifth Avenue mansion. Her hand trembled on the 
 bell-knob ; and its clear sharp peal sounding out from the hall 
 struck an indefinable dread to her heart. 
 
 Poor girl ! her black dress betokened that she was again in 
 mourning ; but no outward token could symbolize the utter deso- 
 lation of her heart. 
 
 Homeless ! an orphan ! "Words which define the saddest" of 
 lots ! Never a loving eye to grow tender at your coming, or 
 weep for your going never a lip to smile at your joys, or 
 mourn for your griefs never a hand to push back the curls 
 from a young girlish forehead, or to draw down an aching head 
 to a throbbing heart. God pity such ! and help them ! When 
 every earthly friend and helper has been laid away under the 
 sod when the earth seems vast and drear and lonely then 
 may the great Friend stretch forth the Everlasting arm of His 
 Love ! 
 
 Peace was alone in the world. She stood now shrinking, 
 trembling, at the door of the mansion within whose walls she 
 must toil for a livelihood. She. was to become a governess. 
 
 When Reuben Wedgewood's estate was settled, no will was 
 found ; and, according to the decree of the law, the whole passed 
 
 (168)
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN TTILL. 1-59 
 
 into possession of the nearest kin Hannah Ward. x There 
 were many who shrugged their shoulders, and said among them- 
 sleves 
 
 " It is strange ! We always thought he meant to do right by 
 Peace ; " and some even dared to whisper their suspicions that 
 all was not as it should be ; but when did ever the opinion of 
 man prevail against the stern codes written down in statute 
 books ? And so the Ridge farm passed into the hands of the 
 harsh spinster, and the bereaved girl was left literally portion- 
 less as she was homeless. 
 
 It was a dull, aching pain which thrilled Peace's heart as she 
 went to pay a farewell visit to the graves on Wood Hill ; and, 
 leaning against a tree, looked with swimming eyes on the mounds 
 which covered the still pale faces of all who had loved her. 
 September had not faded the September which had witnessed 
 her graduation 'at Northfield, and saw her fitted, by Aunt Pa- 
 tience's precious legacy, for that teacher's life to which she must 
 now look as her means of support, but "already sad, sighing 
 winds were astray in the forests their mournful voices, premo- 
 nitory of the coming dreary autumn. How unlike it was to the 
 September of a year agone ! Then the hazy beauty of an early 
 Indian Summer flushed the landscape into living beauty, then, 
 amid her pleasant school duties, she penned long letters to Uncle 
 Reuben and read his affectionate fatherly responses, anticipating 
 the time when she should return to the dear old home and watch 
 lovingly over his declining years. Now, that home was hers no 
 more ; another grave lengthened its swelling mound on Wood 
 Hill ; beside the wrinkled, aged sister, and the girl who in 
 her bloom and beauty had found a grave, Reuben also slumber- 
 ed quietly. 
 
 True a home a shelter, rather had been offered Peace. 
 It was a deep game that Hannah Ward had played ; and she
 
 160 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 could not long bring herself, despite her grasping, avaricious na- 
 ture, to look unmoved upon the pale face of the orphan ; besides, 
 she feared the construction the people of Meadow-Brook would 
 put upon so harsh an act ; but the high-spirited girl, with an in- 
 stinctive intuition that she had been wronged, and revolting 
 from a life with the hard, cold spinster, rejected the grudging 
 offer, and resolved to earn her own livelihood. 
 
 An opportunity soon presented itself. 
 
 un the day previous to her graduation, Madame Southworth 
 sent for Miss Wedgewood to visit her in her own room. An 
 open letter lay before the lady. 
 
 " My dear child," she said kindly, smoothing down the curls 
 of the beautiful girl, and taking one hand in her own, " This let- 
 ter contains an inquiry for a governess from my Seminary. 
 The applicant is unknown to me, but a New York lady, who 
 says her former governess was educated here, and she is de- 
 sirous of another to fill her place. The pupils are her two child- 
 ren, a girl and boy of twelve and ten. Salary, three hundred 
 per year. Knowing somewhat of your circumstances,' I give 
 you the first offer. What say you, my dear ? shall I write in 
 the affirmative ? " 
 
 " Thank you, madam, I will go ! " said Peace, gratefully and 
 bravely ; and thus was made the decision that should take her 
 far from those quiet classic shades. 
 
 There was a brief visit to the Ridge a farewell hour in the 
 morning twilight on Wood Hill, tears dropped upon the new- 
 made grave and the sod which covered Patience, and a passion- 
 ate, clinging pressure of her lips to the little white headstone 
 whereon was rudely graven, " Mary, aged twenty-three ; " 
 and then she turned away and walked back down the hill slope 
 and through the valley to the Ridge, where Hannah Ward was 
 moving with heavy steps from kitchen to dairy and dairy to 
 kitchen.
 
 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 161 
 
 " La, eat your breakfast, child ! You'll be sick, if you ride 
 on an empty stomach," urged the spinster. But little food pass- 
 ed the girl's lips ; she rose from the table, walked through the 
 house where eveiy room now deserted showed some token of 
 the dead ; took down the old-fashioned profiles of Patience and 
 Reuben from the west room wall, and laid them in her travel- 
 ling satchel ; then sat down on the front door threshold, where 
 stood Chip watching the approach of the old yellow stage-coach 
 up the willow-guarded highway. 
 
 "I'm thinkin' it '11 be dreadful lonesome here, Miss Peace, 
 after ye're gone," said the bound boy, leaning his lank form 
 against the doorway, with a sorrowful look in his dim blue eyes. 
 Time, though it had added to the stature, and subdued the quaint 
 chatter of the faithful lad, had not eradicated his reverence for 
 Peace. "Yes, there comes the darned old stage to take ye off! 
 Taint as if you was goin' to school this time, and Patience and 
 Uncle Reuben was here to see you start. You see," and he 
 approached with a mysterious air, and a whisper, " between you 
 and me, I b'lieve she" snapping his fingers toward the kitchen, 
 " don't care ! She's glad on't ! The old dragon, I hate her ! " 
 and he ground his teeth. 
 
 " Hush, Chip ! You mustn't talk so ! I shall come to see 
 you sometime another year, perhaps. There, help put my 
 trunks on the stage. I shall not forget you ! " 
 
 Hannah now came to the door, hearing the roll of wheels. 
 
 " And so ye're goin', Peace ? Well, good luck to ye and 
 when -ye want a nice comfortable home, jest remember the offer 
 I made ye. Maybe, you'll be glad to get back some day. Good 
 bye ! " and she held out her hard horny hand. 
 
 " Hannah Ward, I would not accept a home from you if I 
 starved ! When I. come back here, it must be as I have always 
 lived here by right the right of adoption ! Aunt Patience 
 
 14*
 
 162 PEACE : OE THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 meant it she said so on her death bed : Uncle Reuben meant 
 it, you knew that; but the law gave to you, and made me a 
 beggar ! But I am going where I can earn my own bread : if 
 you can eat yours, without the stings of conscience, you will be a 
 happy woman ! Yet one thing I would ask of you be kind to 
 Chip treat him well he is good, honest, and faithful. Han- 
 nah Ward, good bye ! " 
 
 It was the old passionate spirit which had occasionally stirred 
 the quiet of her childhood, that prompted this outburst of indig- 
 nation. Peace felt that she had been wronged though, cer- 
 tainly, of the heinousness of the sin Hannah had committed, she 
 had not the faintest suspicion and she had not so far learned 
 prudence or subjection as to restrain her thoughts in this part- 
 ing hour. She walked proudly down the path to the stage with 
 flushed cheeks and flashing eyes. 
 
 " Good bye, Chip ! " she cried from the window, as she was 
 borne down the road. 
 
 " "Well, I never ! What impudence ! Can she know ? " 
 and Hannah Ward dropped down on the nearest kitchen chair, 
 a shade of^paleness on her hard cheek. " But no ! what a fool 
 to be scar't to death ! She was only mad that's all ! Much 
 good'll the property ever do Mary Halpine's brat now ! " and 
 with a bitter smile on her thin withered lips, she set about her 
 daily work. 
 
 Chip, meantime, hung over the gate gazing after the stage ; 
 and when it turned a bend in the long sweeping highway, he 
 went and hid himself in the long barn a full half hour, till 
 Hannah's shrill call broke his sorrowful reverie. 
 
 So, Peace had gone forth from the home of her childhood ; and 
 now she stood on the steps of the stately city mansion which, for 
 one year, was to be her abiding place. Little wonder was it, 
 that, wearied with the long journey, alone in a great metropolis,
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 163 
 
 the stately free-stone walls seemed to frown down threateningly 
 upon her, and the sharp bell-peal struck a thrill of dread to her 
 heart and when the heavy door slowly turned on its hinges, 
 and a fat porter who looked the very personification of over-fed 
 insolence, stood before her with a contemptuous stare, she 
 seemed ready to sink. 
 
 " I am expected " she at length faltered forth. 
 
 " Ah, so I should suppose ! " said the man, superciliously ele- 
 vating his eye-brows and eyeing the trunks the hackman had 
 deposited on the steps. " Your name, miss ? " and he stood 
 across the threshold, not inviting her to enter. 
 
 A sudden revulsion of feeling swept over Peace. Her spirits 
 rose indignantly ; a lightning flash darkened her blue eyes, her 
 cheeks were crimson, and her form seemed to dilate. 
 
 " Go to your mistress instantly. Tell her that Miss Wedge- 
 wood is here ! " she said haughtily, stepping over the threshold 
 and setting foot on the velvet carpet of the hall. 
 
 The proud self-possession which displaced all her drooping 
 timidity would have commanded the respect and obedience of the 
 pampered menial who involuntarily stepped backward and laid 
 his hand on the knob of the drawing-room door to admit her, 
 had not the voice of Mrs. Delano been heard fron^ the upper 
 hall, as that" lady leaned over the rosewood banister, saying : 
 
 " It is the new goverrfess, John. Show her up." 
 
 With a firm step Peace followed him up the spacious stair- 
 case, her foot sinking inch-deep into the luxurious carpet the 
 dim light through the ground glass of the windows revealing a 
 richly frescoed wall and ceiling and was ushered through an 
 open door on the right into a boudoir draped with hangings of 
 pale blue silk and lace embroidery, and furnished with lounges, 
 tete-a-tetes, and easy chairs upholstered with satin brocatelle of 
 the same azure hue. On a sofa near -the door sat a large, over-
 
 164 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 V 
 
 dressed woman of perhaps forty, with a face whose vulgar red 
 the paling tint of the curtains could not subdue, holding a fat 
 pink-eyed poodle affectionately in her arms ; and in a window 
 recess from which the hangings were looped back with massive 
 cord and tassels of blue and silver, her graceful form clad in an 
 exquisitely embroidered snowy cambric wrapper and half-buried 
 in the depths of an ample reception chair, her tiny slippered foot 
 on a velvet cushion, and intent upon the perusal of the French 
 novel in her fair jewelled hands, sat an elegant girl. These 
 were Mrs. Delano and her eldest daughter, Florence. 
 
 " Ah, you hav,e come, then ? for I presume I address the 
 young lady sent by Madame Southworth," said the former, with 
 what was intended for a dignified inclination of her head, but 
 which the shortness of her neck transformed into a little jerking 
 nod. 
 
 "I am Miss Wedgewood, madam," replied Peace quietly, 
 taking the nearest seat. 
 
 " Florence, my love, this is the teacher." 
 
 The young lady glanced up from her novel, and with a 
 haughty nod coolly scanned Peace from head to foot ; but the 
 quiet self-possessed look from the calm blue eyes under the 
 shadow of the mourning veil, dispossessed her, and, feigning an 
 aristocratic indifference, she dropped her eyes upon her book again. 
 
 " Miss Wedgewood, I had no idea but Madame Southworth 
 would send me an older person. You look very young. The 
 last governess was much older." 
 
 " I am young," rejoined Peace ; " not quite seventeen. Buf 1 
 I shall be growing older every day," she added, slightly smiling. 
 
 " Ah, yes ! But that is very young a mere child. Really, 
 Victorine is almost as large as you are. You are tall quite 
 tall but too slender. Are you strong, miss ? " 
 
 Peace's cheek flushed.
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 165 
 
 " Madam, is my size, or strength, or years, the criterion of my 
 qualifications to teach your children? Madame Southworth's 
 statement only involved my scholarship, I presume ! " she said 
 spiritedly. 
 
 " Dear me ! Why, Miss Wedgewood, you're hasty ! I 
 meant nothing of the kind) I assure you. Pray, sit down ! " 
 for Peace had risen. " Your youth seems objectionable only so 
 far as your power of governing is concerned. And yet, after all, 
 it may be best for you will enter more into the feelings of the 
 children. They always complained that Miss Benson was too 
 stiff and unbending. You see, .my dear," and the lady smiled 
 condescendingly, " I, for one, don't believe in taxing teachers 
 too hard nor pupils, either. Thus your duties will not be 
 onerous no dull, flagging scholars to urge along for Alexis 
 is uncommonly clever ; indeed, Doctor Parbox assures me that 
 his brain is prematurely developed and then Victorine's pas- 
 sion for Music is really wonderful ! You areian accomplished 
 pianist, your Principal wrote me. Do you sing, also ? " 
 
 Peace nodded an affirmative. 
 
 " "Well, I am glad of that. Miss Benson had no voice. Vic- 
 torine will be delighted. As regards management, jio doubt 
 you will find my darlings perfectly submissive. Perhaps, now 
 and then, a little exuberance of spirits on Alexis's part will need 
 restraint but usually he is an affectionate and yielding child. 
 There is little Cora Palfrey my nephew's child whose 
 ^ome is with us you will not object to her, occasionally, in the 
 school-room, Miss Wedgewood ? " 
 
 " I am very fond of children," replied Peace. 
 
 " Well, the child will be no care. She is a mere baby, fol- 
 lowing Victorine everywhere. But hark ! I hear the darlings 
 now from the nursery. Rather noisy, I declare ! That Kath- 
 leen ! dear me, I must dismiss her ! She don't manage right
 
 166 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 with Alexis ! always crossing him ! " and at that moment 
 sundry shrieks, a kicking of boots against the wall, and the 
 sound of an angry boyish voice interlarded with expostulations 
 in a rich Irish brogue, issuing from a 'room across the passage- 
 way, proclaimed an " exuberance of spirits " on the young gen- 
 tleman's part quite shocking to Peace. 
 
 At this moment, the pet poodle, Marco Bozzaris, leaped from 
 his mistress's lap, joining in the chorus with a series of sharp, 
 yelping cries. Miss Florence put her white hands over her 
 ears, exclaiming, " Dear me ! mamma, how shocking ! " and 
 Mrs. Delano gave the bell-rope a vigorous pull. 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! Marky never hears Alexis's voice, but he joins 
 in the s cry. I've no doubt but Kathleen has been crossing him 
 in some harmless sport. These Irish girls are so impatient ! I 
 shall dismiss her immediately. It seems her special delight to 
 wony my darling. Come here, Marky come here this min- 
 ute, I say ! " sh$ called out, in a tone which, if " a low sweet 
 voice in woman " be the criterionof true gentility, certainly re- 
 moved Mrs. Delano from the slightest suspicion of such preten- 
 sions. " Ah, Robert," as the serving boy appeared " tell 
 Kathleen I want her instantly ! " 
 
 Peace had not spoken during this scene, but now she said, 
 " Madam, if you please, I will be shown to my room." 
 
 " Ah, bless me ! " exclaimed the purse-proud woman whose 
 richness of attire and elegant surroundings could not conceal her 
 innate vulgarity, " I had forgotten, Miss Wedgewood, that you 
 might be weary. You came by the boat, I presume, and they 
 are dreadful for making one sea-sick when the -Sound is rough. 
 In consideration of your journey, you need not commence your 
 duties in the school-room until to-morrow. Kathleen, show Miss 
 Wedgewood her room ; and then, do you return to me ! " 
 
 Peace followed the Irish girl who had just made her appear-
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 167 
 
 ance at the door through the long hall covered with carpets 
 of the choicest texture into which her little feet sank as in a bed 
 of flowers up a flight of stairs, through another hall and up 
 another flight covered with plain straw matting, into a low 
 chamber ' sparingly furnished with a bed, table, wash-stand, and 
 a couple of chairs, and whither the porter had already conveyed 
 her trunks. 
 
 This little attic chamber was in no respects better than those 
 occupied by any servant in that household ; and the good-natured 
 Kathleen understood Peace's glance of indignant surprise, and 
 said half-apologetically : 
 
 " Please, miss, ye mustn't mind the place for a little while. 
 Miss Florence is to give a monsthrous birth-day party the next 
 week and it's ivery room in the house'll be crammed, sure ; 
 but after that, Mrs. Delano will give ye a nice great room down 
 stairs. It isn't the likes of yez, miss for ye're a rale born 
 leddy, ivery inch of ye that should be put into the garret ! 
 And is there anything I can do for ye now to help ye, 
 miss ? " and the honest-hearted girl lingered at the door. 
 
 " No, no ! thank you. Only leave me ! " and Peace could 
 scarcely restrain the sobs that choked her voice until she was 
 alone ; then she turned the key in the lock, threw herself in a 
 chair, and burying her face in the bed-clothes, burst into tears. 
 And bitter, indignant tears, were they too, that streamed from 
 her blue eyes. 
 
 " And this is the place to which I have been looking forward 
 as a happy refined home ! This is what I have educated myself 
 for to teach wild, spoilt, romping children ! to be little better 
 than a hired nursery girl ! I will never stay ! That purse- 
 proud, vulgar woman that haughty daughter, with her doll- 
 face and insolent stare ! They may keep their gold and I 
 will go forth, and do anything teach the children of the back-
 
 168 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 woods do anything, rather than remain here!" and she 
 rose and paced the room excitedly, and with flashing eyes. 
 
 But softly, softly, Peace ! Have you never heard that arro- 
 gance and pride of purse always look down contemptuously on 
 those one round below them in the social ladder ? that the only 
 " golden calf " was not set up for worship in the long gone ages, 
 out even, in our own day, there be many who stand on gilded 
 pedestals ? 
 
 No, you have never seen the great world you never learned 
 any such teachings ; but you will. 
 
 At seventeen, when the blood boils with life's early fever, and 
 wells up angrily against slight and insult, I know it is hard to 
 bear! But Peace, you must school that warm, rich heart 
 gird on a breast-plate, as of steel, against which the barbed 
 arrows of contempt and injury shall glance harmlessly off 
 keeping every treasure of your young spirit Faith, Trust, 
 Love hoarded carefully for one who cometh, that spirit's lord 
 and king !
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Have you not heard the Poet tell 
 How came the dainty babie Bell 
 
 Into this world of ours 1 
 The gates of heaven were left ajar : 
 
 With folded hands and dreamy eyes 
 
 She wandered out of Paradise ! 
 
 T. B. ALDKICH. 
 
 AT nine, on the morning following her installation in Mrs. 
 Delano's house as governess, Peace found herself in the school- 
 room. It was a large apartment on the second floor, in the rear 
 of the nurgery with which it communicated by a folding door ; 
 and well furnished with a handsome carpet, desks and chairs for 
 teacher and pupils, a piano, table for books, and maps on the 
 walls. 
 
 Mrs. Delano, attired in a showy wrapper of green brocade 
 with broad crimson facings, and jaunty cap of tulle, ribbons and 
 flowers, on the back of her head, had preceded her and al- 
 ready sat pompously awaiting the governess : Miss Victorine 
 a miniature of her portly mamma, in a rich frock, elaborately 
 embroidered pantalettes, and her long braids of red hair tied with 
 heavy ribbon balanced her rotund body on the music stool, 
 alternately dodging from her brother's reach, crying, " Ma, Alex, 
 keeps plaguing me ! " or drumming the bass keys of the instru- 
 ment with a noisy, kettle-drum sort of an accompaniment. 
 
 This scene, with its somewhat ludicrous concomitants, Peace 
 comprehended at a glance as she paused a moment on the 
 threshold ; then her eye was enchained by a little fairy child 
 
 15 (169)
 
 170 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 who emerged from the adjoining nursery, tripping eagerly over 
 the carpet, her tiny hands filled with toys. 
 
 Sweet Cora Palfrey ! the very prototype of Aldrich's " Ba- 
 bie Bell ! " "With the plumpest of little white shoulders peeping 
 from her blue thibet frock dimpled arms, braceleted with 
 gold and coral tiny rose-leaf fingers, grasping dainty toys 
 eyes blue as the skies hanging over country meadows in summer 
 tune and lips like cleft cherries ; such was the darling four- 
 year-old child who bounded into the school-room with baby glee, 
 nor paused until she caught view of the stranger feacher. 
 
 Then uprose hi her violet eyes a look of childish wonder that 
 gradually subsided into a smile, as of recognition she out- 
 stretched her dimpled hands, scattering her toys over the carpet 
 then bounded to the teacher's side, and held up her little 
 scarlet mouth for a kiss, lisping " Aunty aunty ! " 
 
 Mrs. Delano nodded a " good morning ! " then turned to the 
 child, saying sharply 
 
 " Cora, child come away ! That is not aunty." 
 
 But the little one was not so easily satisfied. She gazed from 
 Mrs. Delano to the governess in bewilderment ; but in a more 
 positive voice repeated " Aunty ! " 
 
 "She mistakes you for her aunt, Mrs. Livingston, because 
 of your black dress she being in mourning for her mother, 
 Cora's maternal grandmother," said Mrs. Delano apologetically. 
 
 Peace stooped involuntarily and kissed the rosy lips still 
 uplifted to her own. She had never seen much of children, 
 and, from her yesterday's insight into The disposition of her 
 employer's " darlings," she had at once foreseen how uncongenial 
 must be her situation as their instructor ; but now, in the sweet 
 little, elf who clung to her neck, pressed her dewy lips to hers, 
 and persisted in calling her aunty, her lonely heart had found 
 something to love.
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 171 
 
 At last she put her gently away, saying kindly " No, my 
 darling, I am not aunty. ' 
 
 " Who be you, then ? " asked the child, a frightened look 
 gradually displacing the incredulous one which lay in her blue 
 eyes, and elongating the curves of her pouting lips till she 
 seemed ready to burst into tears. 
 
 " I am the teacher. Call me Miss Peace. There, don't cry 
 I love little girls," and with another kjss and a pat of the 
 golden curls, Peace advanced to Mrs. Delano, who had risen, 
 and played nervously with the cord and tassel of her robe. 
 
 " Do pray excuse the child," she v said at length, " she has been 
 quite spoiled by her aunt Livingston. When she went south, 
 and wished me to take Cora and her nurse, I'd no idea she was 
 such a mere baby. I fear you may find her troublesome. 
 There, Cora, run away do ! You shouldn't lean on Miss 
 Wedgewood so ! " for the girl had again sought Peace, and 
 hovered close beside her, leaning her golden head affectionately 
 against the folds of her black dress. 
 
 " But she say she do love 'ittle dirls ! " persisted Cora, sliding- 
 her fingers into Peace's hand ; who besought also " Pray, madam, 
 let her remain. She is a sweet little thing. I shall love her 
 dearly," but Mrs. Delano banished her with harsh, peremp- 
 tory tones " Go into the nursery immediately ! " and reluc- 
 tantly, looking wistfully toward her new-found friend, Cora 
 glided away. 
 
 Peace had much tact, and could not fail to, perceive that, from 
 some cause, her notice of the sweet child was particularly obnox- 
 ious to Mrs. Delano ; and attributing it to a pardonable feeling 
 of maternal jealousy, she advanced to that lady's " darlings " at 
 the piano who eyed somewhat defiantly their new teacher. 
 " And so these are my pupils ? " 
 
 Miss Victorine ceased her rotary motion on the piano-stool ;
 
 172 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 and Master Alexis's defiant gaze softened. The ogress conjured 
 up by 'their vivid imaginations a tall, severe, frowning " mis- 
 tress," had vanished ; in its place stood a- young, beautiful, 
 pleasant girl. " I shall not fear you ! " plainly uttered both 
 their countenances. 
 
 " Yes, these are my children," was the answer in a prideful 
 and almost stentorian voice. " Victorine, Alexis, my darlings, 
 this is your new teacher Miss Wedgewood. Alexis has a 
 wonderful partiality for the sciences," turning to Peace, " Dr. 
 Parbox a learned Professor friend of mine assures me he 
 is a prodigy. My son, repeat to Miss Wedgewood that lesson 
 in Philosophy you recited to the Doctor the other day." 
 
 Thus addressed, Alexis a bluff, red-faced boy, also inherit- 
 ing his mamma's physique in an extraordinary degree left 
 pinching Victorine's fat neck between his fingers, and, snapping 
 the blade of a new bright jackknife as a sort of vigorous jerking 
 accompaniment, rattled off glibly a curious amalgamation of the 
 terms of Natural Philosophy, in which " attraction of gravitation," 
 u cohesion," " 'lectricity," " optics," and " h'draulics " with their 
 definitions, resounded sonorously on the admiring mother's ear. 
 
 " Now decline your Latin verbs, my dear ! " urged Mrs. 
 Delano at the close of the boy's parrot-like performance ; and, 
 taking in a fresh supply of breath, the " prodigy " started on his 
 new round. Fast and dissonant the conjugations fell from his 
 glib tongue, until a long-drawn inhalation and an extra snap of 
 the knife-blade, proclaimed the jfinale. 
 
 " Very well," -said Peace, who saw that some expression of 
 admiration for the role her pupil had enacted was expected, 
 but whose greatest exertion was to suppress her laughter, 
 " Madam, your son has truly a strong memory a gift which, 
 combined with application, must ensure success in his studies ; 
 but Alexis, I presume you are familiar with the rudiments of
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 173 
 
 mathematics ? Let us see : will you repeat to me the Multipli- 
 cation Table ? " 
 
 "With a look of scorn, the boy confidently began, and volubly 
 repeated the Table half through. Then his recital grew lame 
 hesitating glances were frequent ; but the mother, who stood 
 amazed that so simple a thing was required of her " precocity " 
 rendered him no aid, nor did the teacher. Finally, he quite 
 broke down, and hung his head, for Peace's searching gaze 
 embarrassed him. In another moment, however, he fully recov- 
 ered for it was evident that timidity was not one of the qualifi- 
 cations of either of Mrs. Delano's " darlings " and shouted 
 
 " There, mamma, it's no use ! I'm stuck ! Didn't I tell you 
 that Alf. Warren, if he is the cook's boy and lives in the kitchen, 
 can beat me hi 'Rithmetic ? " Then turning to Peace, " I can't 
 say it, ma'am for I never went to school with the other boys. 
 Alf. he knows it by heart," and the knife-blade went open 
 again. 
 
 " No matter, my son. Go now to your desk ! but do put up 
 tha,t knife I'm fearful you'll injure yourself. You see, Miss 
 Wedgewood," said Mrs. Delano complacently, "I never ap- 
 proved of putting my children into the city schools, where they 
 come in contact with everybody's. Alex, was always delicate 
 and I particularly requested the last teacher not to tax him, 
 Dr. Parbox assures me I ought not and that will account for 
 his seeming deficiency in some of the elementary studies. Now 
 he took to his Philosophy at once ; and one might as well en- 
 deavor to move the Battery, as turn him from it. The Doctor 
 says ' never cramp or distort a young mind ' and I have 
 allowed Alex, his own bent. But hadn't you better hear Vic- 
 torine play ? I wish her to attend to music, particularly. Vic., 
 my love, the Battle of Prague." 
 
 The young lady addressed whirled rapidly on her seat, tossed 
 
 15*
 
 174 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 back the twin braids of long hair, and dashed violently at the 
 instrument. Truly a " Battle " was it ^ every separate strain 
 wrung from the tortured keys fighting most desperately to main- 
 tain its footing in the fray advance, retreat, discharge of artil- 
 lery, cannon boom, bugle note, and the rush of battalions, all 
 mingling in one crashing din. 
 
 " Excellent ! never better, my love ! " exclaimed the delight- 
 ed mamma, allowing the teacher no opportunity for an expres- 
 sion of her opinion " Now, Miss "Wedgewood, will you play 
 something ? " 
 
 With a smile, Peace seated herself, and played with mark- 
 ed attention to time and emphasis, which, by-the-way, were evi- 
 dently myths to her pupil a few simple arias, rondos, and 
 marches from an instruction book ; and then, in a voice neither 
 powerful or fashionably affected, but soft, sweet and clear as a 
 lute strain, sang that sweetest of all Scottish ballads " Annie 
 Lawrie." 
 
 " Ah, pretty very pretty ! " I dare say you are an accom- 
 plished pianist. Madame, your Principal, recommended you as 
 such," said Mrs. Delano, patronizingly " but Monsieur Figaro 
 would say you lacked style. Now my Florence she will play 
 for you some day down in the drawing-room her piano is 
 superb, quite different from this the children practise on my 
 nephew, Cora's father, selected it in London when he went on 
 his foreign tour Florence was at boarding-school then well, 
 as I was saying, Monsieur pronounces her style brittiante, mag- 
 nifique ! 
 
 " But really ! " drawing forth her jewelled gold repeater, 
 " Almost eleven ! and I promised to accompany Florence down 
 to Stewart's this morning, to select her new party dress. Your 
 dinner will be served in the nursery, with the children's. Good 
 morning, Miss "Wedgewood ! " and in stately grandeur Mrs. De- 
 lano sailed from the school-room.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 175 
 
 That evening, as Florence Delano, radiant in azure satin and 
 pearls, the folds of her Cashmere opera cloak drooping from her 
 graceful shoulders, stood in the drawing-room, her mother enter- 
 ed with flushed face'knd a frown on her brow. 
 
 " Florence," and she sank into a couch fanning herself, " it is 
 perfectly unaccountable the fancy Lucien's child has taken to 
 this new governess. Even this morning I was forced to send 
 her away, she clung to her so ; and just now, passing the school- 
 room, j saw her through the half-open door in her lap, and the 
 governess hugging and kissing her as though she had found a 
 treasure. But I sent up old nurse Allen instantly. Artful 
 creature ! I'll warrant she is ! these poor teachers always are. 
 You don't suppose, Flor., this fondling round the child is for 
 the sake of the father? She is handsome he might take a 
 fancy to her I have a great mind to send her away ! " 
 
 A rich silvery laugh floated through the apartment, and a 
 scornful curve deepened on Florence Delano's proud lip as she 
 adjusted her ermined cloak before the mirror. " Nonsense, 
 mamma! how perfectly ridiculous! Cousin Lucien in Eu- 
 rope, and this poor country governess ! What strange ideas run 
 in your head." 
 
 " Well, if I am over anxious, remember it's for you, Flor. ! 
 You know on what I have set my heart, when Lucien returns." 
 
 " Your heart is set upon that no more' than mine, mamma ! " 
 and the deepening curve on her ruby lips, and the settled blaze 
 of her clear blue eyes, told what iron will ruled that beautiful 
 girl's spirit "I have not slighted so many hearts, to go unre- 
 warded. Lucien Palfrey shall be mine ! " 
 
 " Carriage ready ! " and the obsequious porter flung wide the 
 drawing-room door. 
 
 And that evening, as, amid the blaze of gas, the flutter of
 
 176 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 fans, and the swell of rich music, Florence Delano sat in her 
 crimson lined box at the Opera House, coquettishly receiving 
 the homage of soTme half dozen admirers, and the purse-proud 
 woman at her side beheld her daughter's fliumphs with an ex- 
 ultant eye Peace, the lonely governess, for whom no heart in 
 the wide, wide world was beating, sat alone in the dimly desert- 
 ed school room. 
 
 But when her thoughts were saddest, the door of the adja- 
 cent nursery where Cora Palfrey had been put to sleep was 
 softly opened a little curly head peeped roguishly in, two tiny 
 finger? were l^jd on the rosebud lips, two white naked feet pat- 
 tered across the carpet, and Peace was startled by a little girl 
 in a white cambric night-dress climbing resolutely into her lap. 
 
 " Nursy went down stairs, and so Cora got out sly, and come 
 back to see you : now, 'cause you love 'ittle dirls, p'ease tell me 
 a pretty story ! " and the curry head snuggled down to Peace's 
 bosom. 
 
 And so " story " after " story " such as in her own childhood 
 she had heard from Aunt Patience's lips repeated Peace to 
 the listening girl, about wondrous Jack the Giant Killer, and 
 the little Red- Riding-Hood who set out on her mission of love 
 to the good old grandmother, while Cora asked the usual num- 
 ber of children's questions, wondering if nobody ever killed the 
 " ugly old wolf," till her blue eyes grew misty with sleep, - and 
 Peace, parting the golden rings of hair from her moist white 
 forehead, carried her back to her little crib, murmuring as she 
 watched her infant slumbers, " Blessed child ! you will render 
 the days I spend under this roof endurable even pleasant. 
 Darling Cora ! " 
 
 Ah, yes, yes ! What little child is not a darling ? a bless- 
 ing? Sparkling eyes, pouting lips, tangled curls, toying hands, 
 caresses, gushes of baby laughter they are all heart-traps !
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 177 
 
 Sunbeams in life's sky, dainty blossoms in life's pathway little 
 warbling golden orioles, flitting in and out the sunshine or sha- 
 dow wherein we sit making always May-tune in our hearts ! 
 
 Bless God for the blue sky, the dancing waters and singing 
 birds, for clinging vines and flowers, for all of Nature's beautiful 
 things but bless Him most for those who creep into our hearts 
 and vivify our affections, frolic and caress us when sad, or, if we 
 weep, wind their tiny arms about us and lay their cool soft 
 cheeks to ours bless Him most for darling little children !
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " One, a queenly maiden fair, 
 Sweepeth past me with an air, 
 Kings might kneel beneath her stare." 
 
 ORAH ROWLAND stood alone in her drawing-room. One by 
 one had her guests taken their elegant hostess's fair white hand, 
 and bidden her adieu ; one by one had the waxen tapers burned 
 down in their gilded holders, and the gas jets been turned off by 
 the drowsy servants going through the apartments after the 
 festival was over till now but one solitary flame in a mantel 
 candelabra faintly lit the long drawing-room ; every burst of 
 music and gush of silvery laughter was hushed ; flowers with- 
 ered in the vases ; Judge Rowland and his son had sought their 
 own rooms ; and Orah stood alone in the shadows of rich dra- 
 pery muffling a deep embayed window. 
 
 Orah Rowland's ,home elegant, stately, and refined, was an 
 index of her character. Is not every home an exponent of the 
 character and tastes of its inmates ? The furnishing of an 
 apartment betrays the mood and mind of its occupant, no less 
 than do the garments one wears, the glances that escape them, 
 the words they utter ; if refinedly beautiful, graceful, and neat, 
 indicating well-cultivated minds, gentle and loving natures, if 
 disorderly, untidy, formal, or presenting an array of costly furni- 
 ture disposed with a mere view to show, then betraying un- 
 trained, heedless, cold, selfish, or innately vulgar souls. " Out 
 of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh : " is it 
 wrong to add, " and the hand doeth " ? 
 
 (178)
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 179 
 
 It matters not though your pictures be from the brush of a 
 Claude or Rubens your curtains of silk and gold your 
 carpets from the tapestries of the Gobelins your statues of 
 the delicately pure Italian marble, and glowing with a poet- 
 sculptor's inspiration though luxury and art fling down for 
 you their treasures in a palace if no tasteful hand arrange 
 those silken hangings into graceful folds, no artistic eye guide 
 the disposal of those paintings and statues with due regard to 
 the effect of light, shade, or fitness, and bind flowers in accord- 
 ance with the harmony of colors, relieving a snowy spray or 
 regal crimson blossom by a foil of rich glossy green then you 
 are poor indeed, for the element of genuine refinement is lack- 
 ing. All may not have elegant and luxurious homes but, 
 thank God, all can have beautiful ones ! Flowers, birds, books, 
 pictures it does not need a fortune to procure these. In the 
 pleasant country, flowers are the Creator's free gifts ; everybody 
 can pluck them everybody can adorn their homes with them ! 
 And even in the stifled courts of crowded cities, a slip of mig- 
 nonette or verbena, a solitary daisy, though blooming in a 
 cracked earthern vessel in a poor man's window, will do more 
 towards keeping pure and fresh thoughts and influences in the 
 hearts of the lowly, than a hundred envious glances into the 
 splendid conservatories of rich men's houses ; pictures the 
 choice engraving, the exquisite lithograph, the cheap print, all 
 embodying some artist's idea of the Beautiful ^ such are within 
 the reach of all ; words of useful teaching, and the creations of 
 Poesy, are found within cheap bindings, in this " age of books ; " 
 and birds, though caged, trill forth such echo-songs as a Jenny 
 Lind never sung. 
 
 And so Orah Rowland's home, with its massive furniture 
 carved in quaintest design, eloquent statues, pictures wherein 
 painters had wrought out their lives, the conservatory where
 
 180 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 tropical birds sang amid rarest Indian exotics this home, so 
 grand, imposing, yet its every luxurious detail softened and 
 refined by a woman's hand, was a fitting exponent of the char- 
 acter and tastes of its elegant and accomplished mistress. 
 
 Since the time of her school-days at Madame Southworth's 
 Seminary, Orah had grown very beautiful. Now, as she stood 
 in the faint glow of the candelabra burners her rich black 
 hair, satin-smooth, reflecting wavy lines of light, her transparent 
 olive complexion soft and creamy, folds of emerald velvet drap- 
 ing a form perfect as the stately Juno in its niche, long loose 
 sleeves looped up by a single gem from arms perfect in their 
 rounded outline as the Medicean Venus it were difficult to 
 conceive a being more proudly beautiful. 
 
 But not, like the marble statue, was she cold and pulseless. 
 It was not the warming hue of the crimson window drapery 
 bathing her cheek in such a burning glow ; and by the restless 
 clasping and unclasping of her hands over her heart, the nervous 
 tapping of her slippered foot, the veiled brilliancy of her eye, 
 and the heaving respirations escaping her scarlet lips, it seemed 
 that some strong emotions swayed her being. 
 
 And yet that evening, moving among her guests with queenly 
 tread ; scornfully beating back the haunting gaze of impassioned 
 eyes that followed her everywhere ; her haughty shafts of wit 
 and pride sending forth from her presence one, who, in going, 
 bore with him all her life and inspiration ; even then, that 
 proud girl, who had hitherto laughed at Cupid's trammels, would 
 not acknowledge what was forced upon her heart in the stillness 
 of her deserted apartment that she loved ! 
 
 Never before had this independent, self-reliant girl met the 
 person who could sway to his her own strong proud will, or 
 kindle, in all their enduring intensity, the fires of her heart. In 
 society she had been the recipient of much attention from men
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 181 
 
 of intellect, station and wealth not merely because she was 
 the daughter and heiress of the wealthy and honored Judge 
 Rowland, but for the very originality of her own nature, bearing 
 with it its own peculiar charm, her talents, and her dark rich 
 style of beauty, and in that clime where, with her brother, 
 she had made her home for the year following her graduation 
 Italy titled lovers had sued for the favor of the accomplished 
 American girl ; but from all had she turned with untouched 
 heart. But now her hour had come. 
 
 And to whom had her spirit bowed at last ? And why, then, 
 when this new idol was enshrined there, did she by some 
 strange anomaly refuse to pay it homage ? Was it from 
 coquetry ? No ! Orah Rowland's nature scorned that. It might 
 be from pride. Let us see ; and to do this, it is necessary to 
 review a little. 
 
 Orah's strong, earnest, unique nature had one safety-valve ; 
 in action. There were no idle minutes for her ; she was always 
 employed ; and as her moods changed, so her many absorbing 
 pursuits. Literature was a passion with her : now it was the 
 classics now the sciences now the arts, and lighter accom- 
 plishments. At boarding-school, French had been to her like 
 her mother tongue ; the Italian had been rapidly and easily 
 acquired abroad ; since her return, she had conquered German, 
 and read Goethe and Schiller in the original ; now she attended 
 the Opera nightly, and next day dashed off scores of arias and 
 sonatas for her musical talent was unexceptionable ; but her 
 latest absorbing penchant was the Drama. Not a "star" ap- 
 peared in the dramatic world, not a tragedy or comedy was 
 produced, but Judge Rowland's box was occupied by his admired 
 daughter, attended by her brother Louis now a rising young 
 lawyer or some devoted escort. 
 
 16
 
 182 PEACE : OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 During the early part of the winter, masquerades, tableaux, 
 and fancy balls, were much in vogue in that exclusive circle of 
 fashion and gayety in which Orah Rowland moved ; but at last, 
 satiated with the constantly recurring round of amusement 
 ball, rout, and party and, secure in the advantage which her 
 elevated position in society afforded her, of following the bent of 
 her own fancies, she resolved to depart from the stereotyped 
 order of entertainments, and introduce a novelty. She would 
 give private theatricals. 
 
 No sooner did the idea strike her, than, heart and soul, she 
 entered into her preparations, enlisting her brother as aid. The 
 play decided upon was Scott's tragedy, " The Bride of Lammer- 
 moor." She would enact Lucy Ashton ; and cards were issued. 
 The fashionable world was delighted. Young ladies voted it 
 " charming ; " gentlemen forthwith hunted up theatrical versions 
 of the tragedy, prepared, if called upon, to " do " Edgar after 
 the most approved dramatic style. Orah herself studied the 
 heroine's part night and day ; but, among her circle of gentlemen 
 friends, Orah could single no one who, to her fastidious taste, 
 seemed a suitable representative of the dark, gloomy Edgar of 
 Ravenswood. One after another was decided upon, then dis- 
 missed. This one had no just conception of the character ; to 
 another she had a personal dislike, and would not be supported 
 by him. Thus, from daily closetings with her brother she came 
 forth undecided. 
 
 At last Louis Rowland came home to dinner one day in high 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " Who do you think I met on Broadway this morning, Orah ? 
 An old friend, and just the fellow for your Edgar. A bonafide 
 actor, too ! Never was more surprised in my life ! " 
 
 " An actor ? an old friend f You surely are dreaming, 
 Louis ! " replied the girl in surprise.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 183 
 
 " No, sis a fact ! But you'd never imagine him. Seen the 
 young actor at Mblo's Carl: Linn ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Well, and you have not forgotten that summer vacation at 
 Uncle Reade's farm - nor Jasper Golding ? " and Louis 
 Howland furtively watched his sister. " The actor and the stu- 
 dent are the same ! " 
 
 " Oh, Louis ! " Orah half sprang from her chair ; a crimson 
 blush on her cheek faded suddenly to marble white. 
 
 " Yes ! I told you, I believe, how, notwithstanding his high 
 promise at Cambridge, he suddenly neglected study every- 
 thing, but his mad pleasures went down like a rocket, and was 
 expelled just before I graduated. I traced this to the night 
 when he received a letter. What that letter contained, I never 
 knew. He seemed mad afterwards ; would have nobody's 
 friendship or advice. Poor fellow ! there was a fascination 
 about him I never could resist ; and when I met and recognized 
 him to-day though he seemed ashamed, and not until I pressed 
 him hard for his present whereabouts, told me he was ' Carl 
 Linn ' I couldn't, for my life, let him slip without renewing 
 our old friendship. He was a noble fellow the germs are not 
 dead yet. Wish I could do something for him, without touching 
 his pride ! His second inquiry was.for you. Will call at the 
 office this afternoon. Shall I ask him up ? " 
 
 " But, an actor ! " rushed to Orah's lips. She did not utter it, 
 however. For three years she had borne in memory that frank, 
 high-bred, beautiful boy, whose companionship made that long 
 pleasant summer vacation a golden' dream. She remembered 
 the careless grace of his brown curls, the gaze of his deep blue 
 eyes the rides, walks, and excursions they had shared those 
 dreamy summer days the books they had read, and the poems 
 repeated hi the old forests like a dream it stole athwart her
 
 184 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 brain once more ; and now, he was near her once agaiif ; should 
 her own pride part them ? 
 
 For Orah Rowland shared the feeling, so common in society, 
 regarding the votaries of the Thespian art. She revelled in the 
 creations of the great dramatists ; admired the genius that suc- 
 cessfully and truthfully impersonated those creations ; gave the 
 tribute of tears and hushed breath to the tragedian who from the 
 boards of a theatre wrought upon the passions of immense audi- 
 tories ; threw bouquets at the feet of cantatrices and comme- 
 diennes ; but, to invite an actor or actress to her own home to 
 mingle with such, in private life ah, that was quite another 
 thing! 
 
 But, Jasper Golding ! what mystery, caprice, or maddening 
 grief, had transformed him, the ambitious student, to an actor ? 
 She must see him! 
 
 " Yes, bring him, Louis ! " was her reply. 
 
 Rehearsals were over, and the night for the representation 
 arrived. At the farther extremity of a suite of apartments, a 
 stage had been erected, with properties, drop curtain, and 
 scenery painted for the occasion, and a hired orchestra stationed 
 near it ; while seats arranged in a semi-circle accommodated the 
 " house." The dresses had been prepared under the direction 
 of a bona fide theatrical costumer ; and, as the play went on, the 
 rendition of every character was perfect ; Orah Rowland voted 
 " sweet," " womanly," as Lucy Ashton ; and Edgar, Master of 
 Ravenswood, though recognized by many present as the " Carl 
 Linn " of the dramatic world from complaisance to their hostess, 
 whose undeniable right to "oddity" was fully allowed, aided 
 also by his own manly beauty and high-bred demeanor was 
 politely received by her guests. 
 
 The play over, all sojourned to an elegant refection ; after 
 which the quondam theatre converted, meantime, into a danc-
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 185 
 
 ing hall by the removal of stage and seats the band struck up 
 one of Strauss's inspiring waltzes, and Terpsichore claimed the 
 remnant of the night ; nor was it until the gray morning tints 
 broke, that the last carriage rolled from Judge Rowland's man- 
 sion. - 
 
 Next day, the affair was discussed over late breakfasts and in 
 luxurious boudoirs ; and one or two evening papers' reported, 
 under the head of " Private Theatricals," " An elegant, unique, 
 and classical entertainment, given last night at the princely man- 
 sion of one of our most distinguished citizens, where the young 
 hostess already one of our reigning belles was most ably 
 supported in the dramatic, representation by a promising young 
 artist, well-known as a favorite with our theatre-going public." 
 
 So it was talked about, written about, read about, and floated 
 away a glittering bubble swept down the restless tide of fash- 
 ionable life ; but not so^ as other fetes which had come and 
 gone like dazzling meteors in the sky of her social life not so 
 did the memory of that night fade from Orah Rowland's mind ; 
 for there, in the midst of that festival, the hour which comes once 
 to every woman, came to her. 
 
 In every scene of that representation the rescue in the 
 wood Edgar's unspoken love, when the desolate "Wolf's Crag 
 gives shelter to sweet Lucy Ashton their subsequent betrothal 
 at the Mermaiden's Fountain the stern Lady Ashton's com- 
 mand, that her daughter's love be transferred to Hayston of 
 Bucklaw or lastly, when, returned from over seas, her fated 
 lover bursts upon the marriage rite, crying in reproachful, des- 
 pairing, impassioned accents, " I am still Edgar of Ravenswood," 
 and, cold, white, statue-like, at the behest of her pitiless mother, 
 she yields the broken piece of gold token of their betrothal, 
 followed by the tragic -finale, in every scene, so absorbed, 
 heart, soul, and brain, had Orah Howland become in the charac- 
 
 16*
 
 186 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 ter she rendered, that everything was forgotten. It was an 
 actual, living reality. She returned glance for glance Edgar's 
 love fell prone to the floor and when the curtain fell, was 
 only conscious of one blest emotion, that his arms were around 
 her, her head upon his breast, his dying kiss upon her dying 
 lips. 
 
 But the reaction came. Afterwards, when her friends gath- 
 ered around her with compliments on her " splendid acting " 
 when she caught Jasper Golding's eye bent earnestly, tenderly, 
 almost reproachfully upon her when, alone in her own room, 
 she thought it all over a blush of vexation came to her cheek, 
 and a haughty curl to her lip ; and, by a strange contradiction, 
 while she revelled in her old intoxicating memories of the boy- 
 student, she resolved to forget the boy-actor ; burned the copy 
 of the Bride of Lammermoor she had studied ; and, as she un- 
 bound her midnight hair before the mirror, paused to. laugh 
 contemptuously, " This is well of Orah Howland ! turning 
 actress ! " 
 
 Afterwards, there were many in fashionable life who followed 
 the example of the brilliant belle. Private theatricals became 
 much in vogue ; " Lady of Lyons," " School for Scandal," and 
 other comedies, were successfully produced. Even " Carl Linn," 
 whose entree into Judge Rowland's mansion procured him that 
 of others, received many invitations ; but in none of these enter- 
 tainments, other than as an auditor, could Orah be persuaded to 
 mingle. Yet night after night she frequented these scenes ; for 
 there she met one, whom strange anomaly in woman's heart ! 
 she both sought and avoided. 
 
 Now, by her kindness and favoring smiles, she won him to 
 her side till his eye spoke the old tale of love ; then, haughtily 
 cold, she noticed his presence only with a careless nod. Now, 
 her invitation bade him welcome to her own house, where, even-
 
 PEACE : OK THE STOLEN WILL. 187 
 
 ing after evening, sitting beside him, she listened to impassioned 
 readings ; then, in enacting the dignified, freezingly courteous 
 hostess, she plainly pointed out the difference between them. 
 So the struggle had gone on in her heart, till, on the night in 
 question, a few scornful cutting words uttered purposely in his 
 hearing, had driven forth Jasper Golding with a proud defiant 
 blaze in his flashing eyes, and left Orah Rowland to -receive the 
 adieus of her guests with a smiling lip, and afterwards, to 
 regret vainly the utterance she could not recall. 
 
 Every woman is an epicure in the matter of the affections. 
 Let hearts be laid at her feet as plentifully as wayside flowers 
 bloom, and she idly plucks them, toys with them, and tosses 
 them to the winds ; but let one become suddenly withdrawn, or 
 stand " afar off " on some unattainable height, and she reaches 
 forth her hands longingly. Nor is this, as some would have us 
 believe, because there is a mixture of the coquette in every 
 nature ; rather let it be accounted for on the principle that 
 " blessings brighten as they take their flight," and " difficulty to 
 procure, only enhances the zest of passion." Never is there a 
 flower so beautifuL as that which has been plucked from the 
 brow of the precipice ; never a pearl so rare as that won from 
 deepest ocean caves by the skilful diver ; never a heart so val- 
 ued as when we have climbed the barren steeps of Difficulty, 
 waded through troubled waters of Fear, over the moorlands of 
 Doubt, and along the barren shores of Despair, then wrested it 
 suddenly for our own.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Few none find what they love or could have loved, 
 Though accident, blind contact, and the strong 
 Necessity of loving, have removed 
 Antipathies. 
 
 BTRON. 
 
 JASPER GOLDING left the presence of Orah Rowland, and 
 went out into the night. He walked rapidly now in the shad- 
 ows of tall buildings, now under the glare of street lamps, and 
 then threading narrow alleys lighted only by the far off stars. 
 
 Very distant they seemed to him that night the serene stars 
 going, as he did, from the presence of one who had been the 
 brightest star in his life's sky, but who stood now as far above 
 him as the orbs in the deep night heavens. 
 
 How distant always they seem to us in the great city the 
 holy stars ! It is only out in the open country ; standing on 
 grassy meadow slopes, in orchard-reaches white with drifts of 
 apple blossoms, on some hill among the pinewoods, or in cool 
 shady lanes, that the heavens seem to lean down lovingly and 
 the stars watch us like tender human eyes. There, when the 
 gloaming falls, and you sit alone with Nature in her quietest 
 moods, when the night comes on with hushed footsteps, and 
 " With the night the stars creep o'er -the trees " there you 
 learn to watch their coming with something akin to love. The 
 pure the holy stars ! Sentinels on the walls of heaven, wav- 
 ing their little naming torches on every pointed tower and bat- 
 tlement, lest some daring intruder attempt to scale their walls 
 
 (188)
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. - 189 % 
 
 yet watching you tenderly, compassionately, all the while, and 
 beckoning with their glimmering lights, " Come up hither ! " 
 
 But in mighty cities, where the pulses of life are never wholly 
 laid to sleep where the jar and jangle of trade is scarce hush- 
 ed from sunrising to sunrising again where the eye is blurred 
 with the glitter of gold and the heart gets weaned from mother 
 Nature where crime lurke in shadowy corners and passions 
 riot in human hearts there the stars burn faint and cold, and 
 the heavens stand high above O so very far away ! 
 
 And so they seemed few, faint, and cold, glimmering in the 
 narrow strip of sky between the tall brick houses ; and brought 
 no quieting influence to him who walked on rapidly under their 
 beams that winter night. 
 
 " So distant ! so high above me ! " he muttered. " So cold 
 their gaze, like the gleam of a proud wcftnan's eye ! So far 
 above me but alas, no higher than is she ! In her bright 
 world of fashion and beauty and pride, what cares she more for 
 the humble actor, than the stars for the earth-worm that crawls 
 below ? Pitiful fool that I have been ! because she treated me 
 with kindness, I have dared to worship her ! Why did I not 
 keep away from her ? why, night after night, did I go into her 
 presence, to sit by her side, listen to her words, feed upon her 
 beauty, till my brain grew maddened ? I, who should have 
 been her equal but am what ? The veriest thing upon 
 whom she would look, aye, upon whom shethas looked this night, 
 with scorn. And who made me what I am? who smote me 
 from the same level with her ? Curses on him who, bankrupt 
 in honor, stands this night in high places, while his child goes 
 forth with the weight of her cutting scorn on his head ! Oh 
 these heartless, dissolute men of the world ! they send their vic- 
 tims broken-hearted to the grave they bequeathe to the fruit 
 of their sin the dowry of shame 7 and the world fawns on and
 
 190 - PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 flatters them, as though their hollow rotten hearts were the re- 
 ceptacle of truth and honor ! Oh, I would rather own my father 
 among the poorest day laborers in this city yes, rather earn 
 my bread by the humblest drudgery, than live this life, madden- 
 ed by this crushing stain. Men may not know it they may 
 not call me by my rightful name. She does not know what 
 dashed my boyhood dreams to earth but it is eating into my 
 heart's core. It has brought me to this life ; it has brought 
 me to her scorn ; for did I not hear her say, not a half hour 
 agone, with a contemptuous smile that stabbed me to the heart 
 
 " Oh no ! I could never marry an actor ! " " An actor ! " and 
 his Hp curled bitterly, then after a slight pause his eye kindled, 
 and he muttered almost defiantly, " Proud girl ! I wish I could 
 prove to you that I am not wholly unworthy ! Can it be, that 
 this alone divides us-? By heaven, if I thought so" and his 
 eye softened. "If I thought so! but no, I am a fool and 
 yet, a thought strikes me a thought strikes me '.it may be so 
 
 I will- do it ! " and he walked rapidly on. 
 
 Onward still he kept his way through lighted streets and dim 
 alleys, until, striking into a great thoroughfare, he trod half its 
 length and paused before a large stone edifice, its front rich with 
 architectural adornment, and its entire upper story brilliant with 
 the glare of gas. The broad entrance hall was light as day, 
 revealing a flight of massive stone stairs, with a ticket office on 
 each side ; large posters about the sidewalk and entrance, before 
 which he paused, announced, " the last night, positively, of the 
 celebrated " star actress," and the " appearance of the favorite 
 danseuse, Gabrielle Franck ; "' and the full tide of orchestra music 
 sweeping down the broad staircase, to which a few loungers beat 
 time with their heels on the pavement, announced that Jasper 
 stood before a theatre. 
 
 But evidently he was no stranger here for, muttering as
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 191 
 
 the music swept louder down the staircase, " It is the interlude 
 I am just in time," he walked rapidly past the 'little knot of 
 loungers, turned into a narrow by-way at the extremity of the 
 building, and entered the theatre by a rear door. Making his 
 way up a flight of dimly lighted stairs, stooping to avoid beams 
 and rafters, hastening through dusky cobwebbed passages, turn- 
 ing a corner, then coming into a lighted passage and opening a 
 door whence came the sound of voices and laughter, he stood 
 within the green-room. 
 
 The play had been one of Snakspeare's tragedies, and seve- 
 ral actors and actresses were huddled about the green-room fire 
 en costume princes, soldiers, maids of honor and peasants, all 
 on the most republican footing the " star " alone being absent 
 in her dressing-room ; and, as " Carl Linn " entered, more 
 than one friendly hand was extended. 
 
 " Ah, Linn, glad to see you, my boy ! " exclaimed one. 
 " Been into the house ? No ? Why it's a crowder crammed, 
 packed, from pit to ceiling, like a drum of figs. The " star " draws 
 like mustard. Pity we poor stock actors -couldn't line our purses, 
 likewise ! Wonder when our name will draw half Gotham ? " 
 
 " Oh, patience ! patience ! " exclaimed another, good-humor- 
 edly. " We'll strut our " brief hour upon the stage " of public 
 enthusiasm, by-and-by. But how is it. Linn," turning to Jasper, 
 " how is it about this streak of good luck that's turned up for 
 you ? True enough, I suppose ! Well well " winking sig- 
 nificantly, "some folks are born with silver spoons in their 
 mouths ! " 
 
 Jasper's only reply was a glance of surprise, at which his 
 companion laughed. 
 
 " Ah, look at the innocent ! Plays his part capitally ! You'll 
 do, Linn ! But I can't help wishing that accomplished, hand- 
 some, and wealthy belles like this Miss Howland who hap-
 
 192 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 pen to take fancies to good looking young actors, were not, like 
 angel's visits, " few and far between." Wonder if our handsome 
 phiz will not make our fortune, too ? " and he complacently 
 stroked his chin before a mirror? 
 
 Jasper bit his lip, and a frown darkened his hrow. 
 
 " Let Miss Rowland's name be unheard here ! " he said with 
 withering hauteur. 
 
 " Aha ! Coming the nabob already ? " replied Dunn, with a 
 sarcastic laugh. " So your divinity is too fine- china to be men- 
 tioned alongside such crockery as trips on yonder boards ?." 
 pointing to the stage. " Ah ! well I suppose that's perfectly 
 natural now ! But don't look daggers at me, my dear fellow. 
 Macbeth's done murder enough, for one night. I'm off for the 
 farce. Au revoir!" and as the manager entered the green- 
 room, Dunn, followed by half dozen others, made their exit to 
 change costumes. 
 
 "Mr. Forbes, a moment with you, if you please, sir," said 
 Jasper, as that gentleman greeted him with a courteous, " Good 
 evening, Linn," and was moving on. They withdrew to a cor- 
 ner. Jasper was very pale. 
 
 " My engagement is sooa up, I think, sir," said Jasper. 
 
 " Yes, in a fortnight. But why do you ask, Linn ? You will 
 continue with us, I take it ? " 
 
 " That is what I wanted to speak about, to-night. I mean to 
 quit this life." 
 
 " What ! quit the stage, young man ? " and the manager step- 
 ped back, amazed. 
 
 " Yes, sir ! " answered Jasper, firmly. 
 
 "It is a new move, I imagine?" said Mr. Forbes after a 
 slight pause. " Of course you know your own reasons best, 
 Linn, but I'm sorry. You have every requisite for success as 
 an actor face, voice, figure, and elocutionary powers couldn't
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 193 
 
 fail, with study and training, to stand high on the list. I fear 
 you are taking a step you'll repent. Better ' nip it in the bud,' 
 Linn ! " 
 
 "Mr. Forbes," and Jasper spoke somewhat nervously, "you 
 have belonged to this profession all your days, sir ? " 
 
 " I have," was the reply. 
 
 " And you like it 2. You think it an honorable one ? " 
 
 " Aye, aye ! Most certainly I do, young sir ! " and the man- 
 ager brought his hand down heavily on a chair. " I regard the 
 Drama as one of the most important branches of Art, which 
 ca* be made subservient, not only to man's amusement, but to 
 his elevation and advancement. I regard it but no matter, 
 there is no time now to enter into a discussion of the subject. 
 But why do you ask ? " 
 
 " You have, in the course of your career, seen men come up 
 from the humblest walks of life to the highest rank in their pro- 
 fession ? " asked Jasper, evading an answer. 
 
 " Yes yes ! " and the manager rubbed his hands. " I did 
 that myself that is, I rose from ' the people,' and am proud to 
 say it. Was call-boy, supe, toiling actor, and ' star ' eventually. 
 I tell you, my dear boy, the reward comes sooner or later." 
 
 " And you had a great deal to contend against the opinions 
 of many their prejudices against actors as a class, I suppose? " 
 
 " Oh, of course, of course, young sir ! Don't you know that's 
 a ' perquisite ' of our profession ? " and the manager smiled 
 somewhat sarcastically. " In ' this enlightened nineteenth cen- 
 tury ' there are thousands who, from sheer ignorance, possessing 
 neither love nor appreciatfon for the sublime Dramatic art, hurl 
 their anathemas against the wickedness of the stage and the 
 heinous sin of countenancing its followers. They talk learnedly 
 of classic beauty, and describe eloquently some master-piece 
 from the sculptor's chisel order paintings from the old masters 
 
 17
 
 194 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 pay some mustachioed piano-torturer exorbitant sums to teach 
 their daughters Italian operas and German waltzes but straight- 
 way contemn the interpreter of Shakspeare's sublimest tragedies, 
 and utterly ignore him a position in social life. I tell you, my 
 young friend, these are not the days of the old Greeks, when an 
 actor's profession was looked upon as most honorable when 
 such sat at the tables of dignitaries and some of the highest 
 officers of the State were ardent votaries of Thespia when 
 Sophocles, -<Eschylus, and Euripides wrote tragedies, and ap- 
 peared in them, too, holding also highest command in civil and 
 political life ; but I am confident such times will return, Al- 
 ready, so me, by the majesty of Genius and transcendent talents 
 have broken down the conventional pale which has hitherto 
 separated the actor from the social world. Such have taken 
 their proper station - r others will follow ; and the time is not 
 distant when the condemned ' play actor ' will be acknowledged 
 as necessary and beneficial an element in the grand economy of 
 society as the sculptor, painter, or poet for his profession is 
 but another form of Art. Yet not by Genius, or talent, solely, 
 will this be accomplished ; there are nobler attributes that go to 
 make up the sum total of his good character. I tell you, Linn," 
 and he laid his hand on Jasper's arm, " it is not the profession 
 that makes the man, but the man his profession. Making your 
 Art subservient to the cause of morality and refinement, and 
 beautifying it by the example of an honorable upright life, you 
 c:m be as useful a member of society I do not hesitate to say, 
 as good a Christian as any one of the carping critics, no 
 matter what position they may fill, who so sweepingly condemn 
 you ! But bless me, what a sermon I am preaching ! " pulling 
 out his watch. " And after all, I suppose it's entirely uncalled 
 for. Somebody has been looking down on you ? some lady- 
 love, perhaps, ' cuts ' the ' actor ' ? ah, ' there's the rub,' I irn-
 
 PEACE: OK ?HE STOLEN WILL. 195 
 
 agine ? " and the manager smiled as Jasper colored violently 
 and consciously "Well, never mind it, Linn! go to work like 
 a man laugh at her forget her make Fame your mis- 
 tress and, ten to one, five years from now, on yonder boards," 
 pointing to the stage, " she'll throw her bouquets at your feet." 
 
 The flush died from Jasper's face, leaving him very pale. 
 Whether or not the manager's words had struck to the depths of 
 his soul, he made no answer. 
 
 " Do you think the actor's life a happy one ? " he asked. 
 
 " Why bless you, yes ! " replied Mr. Forbes in apparent amaze- 
 ment. " It is like every other one of toil but after the 
 toil comes the reward. And such a reward ! To sway men's 
 hearts every emotion and passion as the mountain wind 
 bends the tree, shrub, and flower, to bring tears or smiles, 
 sobs, or shouts of enthusiastic delight, at your own mood, to 
 sow germs which shall afterward ripen into thought and action 
 to ride on the topmost wave of public favor ! Why, my boy, 
 the intellectual pleasure in itself, accruing to an actor's pro- 
 fession, must afford him the keenest satisfaction, aside from 
 personal emolument." 
 
 For a moment Jasper's face glowed and his eye flashed with 
 the fires of youthful enthusiasm ; then the strong, deep under- 
 current of his new resolve swept through his heart. The glow 
 faded, and his glance became fixed and gloomy. He said 
 moodily, in a bitter undertone, " The picture is alluring, but her 
 hand dashes it out." Then, turning to the manager, he con- 
 tinued 
 
 " And so, regarding this as a happy, honorable life, you- rec- 
 ommend it. And if you had a son, you would educate him for 
 the stage ? " 
 
 " Why, Linn, I never had wife or children but if a tal- 
 ented, enthusiastic young fellow like yourself called me father,
 
 196 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 certainly it would be my ambition some day to see him a star 
 actor." 
 
 " But a daughter, sir ? " 
 
 " A daughter, too ? Why, of course well, let me see 
 after all, though from the days of Mrs. Siddons downwards, 
 women have graced the profession after all, I rather think 
 confound it, -no ! A daughter of mine shouldn't be an actress ! 
 But, bless me ! preaching a homily, then refuting it with my 
 next breath ! " and the manager smiled. " But I am positive 
 my daughter shouldn't be an actress ! " 
 
 u Nor a dancer f " Jasper spoke short and bitterly. 
 
 "A ballet-girl ! Never! " and the manager brought his hand 
 down emphatically. 
 
 " And yet she that young and delicate girl ! " and the youth 
 pointed to the stage whence the rich music swelled out in deli- 
 cious measures. . 
 
 Mr. Forbes moved uneasily. " Yes yes I know. Poor 
 young thing ! It is a pity ! " 
 
 " And yet, sick, feeble, suffering as she is, you offered her this 
 night's engagement. This is your mercy ! " The words fell 
 sarcastically from Jasper's lips. 
 
 The manager grew very red. " Bless me, young sir, what 
 would you have me do ? Are your feelings, or mine, the stand- 
 ard ? I must give the public novelties ! They will have a 
 beautiful ballet-girl ! She draws ! " 
 
 " Yes sir, I understand you," replied the young man sternly. 
 " Gabrielle Franck draws. Of the hundreds who sit in yonder 
 theatre-room to-night, full one third the men, the lads, who 
 crowd the parquette, and the veteran roues who level their 
 lorgnettes from their crimson-curtained boxes they came 
 hither, caring neither for tragedy, or farce, or 'star' actress, but 
 solely to watch the young dancing girl ! Ah yes, I under-
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 197 
 
 stand now! Her name on your bills packs the theatre. Poor 
 Gabrielle ! " 
 
 The manager breathed hard. " Linn, I never saw it in this 
 light before, so witness me Heaven ! Ill and suffering ? I never 
 dreamed of that! When I offered her the engagement, she 
 accepted it eagerly, gratefully ; and I regarded her but as a 
 beautiful child whose graceful dancing had made her the people's 
 favorite, and whom, if / did not secure, some other manager 
 would. Ah, this life has some drawbacks, after all! Catering 
 for the taste of the public, satisfying alike the appetite of the 
 epicure and the gourmand, is not the easiest or most enviable 
 task in the world. But Linn, I have excused some pretty plain 
 speaking on your part youth are hot-headed, sometimes 
 now what means your interest in Gabrielle ? I heard, at the 
 time, about your rescuing her from that terrible fire and have 
 overheard lately that you are much in her society. Young man, 
 I have more faith in you, than to suppose you would deliberately 
 injure that poor child ? " 
 
 A flush dyed Jasper's pure white forehead. He spoke 
 proudly. 
 
 " Mr. Forbes, I may have been reckless, but of such wicked- 
 ness as your words seem to imply I thank God I am innocent ! 
 Gabrielle Franck is, to me, as a younger sister." 
 
 " I believe you, my lad," and the manager held out his hand 
 kindly. " But remember, that the world sees through its own 
 stained vision, and oftentimes refuses to sanction what it cannot 
 comprehend. Your own good sense will show you that the 
 dancing girl is very beautiful, and an orphan ; and with such the 
 tongues of many will be busy. But enough. You are not 
 angry that I have given you this hint ? " 
 
 " Mr. Forbes, you are my best friend." Jasper's voice was 
 17*
 
 198 PEACE : OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 agitated as he grasped the proffered hand ; but the deep flush 
 had not wholly faded from his forehead. 
 
 " I never dreamed of this ! " he continued. " Tell me who 
 has dared speak thus ! " and his eye flashed fire. 
 
 " No more ! Not another word. Let what I have said guide 
 you for the future. Now about yourself. If you believe me 
 your best friend, prove it by staying with my Company. I will 
 advance you rapidly." 
 
 " I thank you I thank you with my whole heart ! but I 
 must leave the stage," was the firm reply. 
 
 " Then if your resolve is taken, I will not seek to change it. 
 What have you decided upon ? " 
 
 "My resolution is recent. I have hardly thought of the 
 future. Possibly I may take the Law." 
 
 " Good ! It will suit you and you will suit it ! I must 
 go ! " again pulling forth his watch. " A fortnight hence, look 
 out for your ' benefit night.' I shall announce ' Lady of Lyons.' 
 So please, meantime, study ' Claude ' with your whole soul, and 
 I'll promise you a bumper at parting. Good night ! " and the 
 kind-hearted, genial manager hastened away. 
 
 Meantime, upon the stage advancing, retreating, poising 
 herself on the tip of her dainty foot, then circling in rapid evolu- 
 tions or gliding athwart the 'boards with passionate graceful 
 bounds, her yielding form turning with every movement of the 
 undulating music swells Gabrielle Franck, the ballet-girl, 
 appeared in a dreamy, voluptuous Oriental dance. She was a 
 French girl of rare and wondrous beauty a very child, of 
 scarce fifteen summers, notwithstanding the perfection of an ex- 
 quisitely symmetrical form. When she bounded upon the stage 
 like a young gazelle, and softly dashed into the dance her lux- 
 uriant ebon hair in short, crisp curls, her eyes flashing like night- 
 stars, her cheeks crimson, and lips like petals of the damask rose
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 199 
 
 wreathed with smiles every movement betraying limbs of 
 faultless proportions the slender ancle, dainty foot, and neck 
 and arms of polished-marble whiteness she seemed the living, 
 breathing actuality of the phrase " poetry of motion." 
 
 " By heavens ! this French girl's dance has a soul to it ! " 
 ejaculated a stranger who looked upon her for the first time ; 
 and certainly, while the flash of her eyes brightened, and her 
 color came and went with each change in the measure, and the 
 audience sat spell-bound giving her the tribute of breathless 
 silence, it seemed as though the tide of her own being rose and 
 fell with the swaying of her gliding form. 
 
 At length, when the last graceful passes were finished, and she 
 sank away into a graceful courtesy, her white arms meekly 
 crossed over her bosom, seemingly awaiting their dictum, the 
 audience rose en masse to their feet, a storm of applause beat 
 the air, and a rain of flowers and jewels fell before her. With a 
 graceful movement, the danseuse gathered up the gifts, buried 
 her crimsoning face in the gorgeous blossoms ; then archly rais- 
 ing her head bowed her thanks, and, flinging kisses from her 
 white fingers, bounded off the stage. 
 
 Down came the heavy drop-curtain ; the enthusiam of the 
 audience died away into murmurs of applause ; and the ballet- 
 master, with a smile of gratification, caught Gabrielle's arm as 
 she passed through the side scenes, 
 
 " Mademoiselle, you have had a triumph. The Manager shall 
 double your salary. I will speak to him." 
 
 " Oui, thank you, monsieur ! " said the ballet-girl faintly, 
 hurrying on. 
 
 The Manager's voice was heard, the call-boy and prompter 
 came rushing to their stations, the bell tinkled for the raising of 
 the curtain, one or two scene-shifters returned from the stage, 
 and a light footfall, with the rustling of silks, came down the pas-
 
 200 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 sage where Gabrielle had paused from sheer exhaustion. It 
 was the "star" actress. The ballet-girl drew back, but not 
 until she had witnessed the haughty withdrawal of rich robes 
 which brushed her in passing, as though her touch were con- 
 tamination. Quietly and humbly she crept away. The green- 
 room was not yet deserted ; but the door of the " star " dressing 
 room was ajar, and she stole in. " She will never know it ! Oh, 
 I am weary so weary ! " and she sank on the sofa, her bur- 
 den of flowers falling on the carpet. The crimson had faded 
 from cheek and lips ; she pressed her hand convulsively on her 
 side, and a hard dry racking cough rent her frame. 
 
 The door softly shut a step was beside her. " My poor 
 child ! " and Jasper Golding sat down and gathered her to his 
 heart. How thin they were, the white hands she clasped on his 
 shoulder ! and the polished arms seemed fearfully emaciated ! 
 Was this the same lithe active form, this the same blooming 
 face now nerveless, drooping, and pale that had en- 
 thralled in yonder theatre room ? Ah yes ! Have you not 
 known how a powerful will and strong excitement can lend 
 momentary strength to exhaustion, and the flush of beauty to 
 disease ? For the ballet-girl, Gabrielle Franck, who that night 
 had danced before the crowd with crimsoned cheek and spark- 
 ling eye, and lips all wreathed with smiles, was slowly dying of 
 consumption ! 
 
 Again that dry, racking cough, succeeded by a low moan of 
 fatigue. 
 
 " Oh Gabrielle, you are killing yourself ! Why did you 
 come here to-night ? with this cough, too ! Did you not 
 promise me you would not come here again so long as you 
 were ill ? I was pained, when I saw your name announced 
 for to-night. Why is this ? " and his tone was grave, almost 
 stern.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 201 
 
 There was no answer ; but the ballet-girl's head drooped lower 
 on his shoulder, and she burst into tears. 
 
 " What means this ? " asked Jasper, wrapping his cloak 
 about her ; for in her thin drapery she was shivering vio- 
 lently. 
 
 " Oh Carl, Carl ! " she said after a little pause, " go away and 
 leave me. I have been wicked in disobeying you ; but I was 
 very miserable, and wanted to get away from myself. I thought 
 you had forgotten me ! " 
 
 " Forgotten you ! Why, my poor child, what do you mean ? 
 Who told you this ? " 
 
 "Carl, don't be angry!" and Gabrielle raised her eyes 
 humbly but reproachfully. " They told me how the beautiful 
 rich lady had invited you to her home how her pride and her 
 beauty had made you her slave. And, too, you did not come 
 to me for many long days ! 0, I was sure you had forgotten 
 me ! Then my head seemed all on fire. Then the Manager 
 came, I was glad. I could come here and forget, for a lit- 
 tle ! " 
 
 " My foolish Gabrielle ! So you believed idle gossip, and in 
 a fit of pique came here to dance when you were so ill ! That 
 was not right was it, little one? I ought to scold you for 
 this ! " 
 
 " Then it was all wrong, Carl ! You do not love this proud 
 beautiful stranger ? You will not forget Gabrielle ? " and she 
 let her head fall confidingly on his shoulder. 
 
 Did not love Orah Rowland ? Would, indeed, it were not so, 
 thought Jasper then. Would he could say to that clinging child 
 for whom he felt a pure brother-friendship, " No, I do not love 
 this proud girl so far above me!" But he could not. Nor 
 would he wound Gabrielle by an avowal of a sentiment which, 
 in that hour reading the artless heart open before him he
 
 202 PEACE : OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 felt would give her pain. So he only said soothingly, caressing 
 her damp forehead with his palm : 
 
 " Gabrielle, fear not that I shall forget you. You are to me 
 as a dear child a beloved sister ! " 
 
 " Child ! sister ! " Gabrielle sprang erect to her feet. The 
 crimson on her cheek faded to deathly paleness. " And I am 
 only this to you ? It is enough ! I do not blame you ! But go 
 away and leave me. I want to be alone. You do love her ! 
 Go ! may the Virgin give you happiness ! Why do you not 
 go ? " and she clasped her hands beseechingly. 
 
 " Gabrielle," and Jasper took her hand and drew her down 
 to his side again, " What makes you want to send me from 
 you ? This lady, of whom you have heard, is nothing nothing 
 to me ! I am a poor actor, and she scorns such ! Sit clown 
 here, Gabrielle." 
 
 The trusting girl did not heed, the hopelessness of his tone as 
 she sank down by Jasper. Had he spoken falsely ? he asked 
 his heart. No. In her beauty and her pride, Orah Rowland 
 was nothing to him the actor. 
 
 " Then I need not go away ? " and Gabrielle nestled closer. 
 " Oh Carl, I am so happy here ! I wish it were always thus. 
 O, I have been so wretched ! You do not know. They cannot 
 come here with their strange looks, and shrug their shoulders, 
 and, when your name is spoken, gay ' Hush, hush ! poor thing ! ' 
 Carl, what does it mean ? I have not been wicked but they 
 all look at me so ! they shun me ! Nobody cares for me at all ! 
 What does it mean, Carl ? " 
 
 Jasper's eye darkened, and he bit his lip. He could not meet 
 the unclouded, innocent eyes lifted to his own. Mr. Forbes's words 
 rushed upon him. " Had I known this before ! " he muttered. 
 " Base, craven, malicious, lying gossips ! Could ye not spare her ? 
 Must your blighting breath taint the good name of a child $ "
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 203 
 
 In that moment, looking upon his troubled face and averted 
 eyes, Gabrielle comprehended all. Very quietly she rose, 
 dropped his hand, and paused before him. A blush dyed her 
 forehead ; her form seemed dilated ; she looked no longer a 
 child, but a commanding woman. 
 
 " Carl," and her voice was soft and sweet as a lute-string 
 
 "I see it all now. I was blind. I know now why they 
 looked so at me why they smiled at each other. But the Mary 
 Mother knows that, dearly as I love you and Carl, if need be, 
 I would lie down and die for you to-night ! dearly as I love 
 you, I prize a good name better. You saved my life you 
 were all I had left to love ! " and tears dropped down on her 
 clasped hands " and I am very, very grateful ! Holy Mary 
 will listen to my prayers for you ; but you must not forbid my 
 going away from you. Nobody respects the ballet-girl they 
 think her wicked. But Carl, you know better ; and when I go 
 from this theatre, you must not follow me. I am going, Carl ! " 
 
 and with hands clasped on her side, her words broken by fits 
 of coughing, she turned toward the door. 
 
 Neither rouge or carmine could have imparted such a glow 
 as the hectic on her cheek ; and her eyes gleamed like sad stars 
 as she turned once to look back. Jasper sprang forward. Tears 
 were in his eyes. He grasped her arm. 
 
 " Gabrielle, you are right. The world will not let us be 
 brother and sister longer. Mine has been the fault mine must 
 be the reparation. Go, take off this tinselled frippery, then 
 come to me." 
 
 Mutely and quietly the ballet-girl obeyed. Presently she^-e- 
 turned in a walking-dress of dark plain stuff, with her hair put 
 back under her close hood. 
 
 " Now Gabrielle," and Jasper wrapped her shawl closer 
 about her and threw his cloak over his own shoulders. " Now
 
 204 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 you must trust me. From this hour, no tongue shall dare assail 
 you ! From this hour, your feet shall never tread yonder, or 
 any other stage ! Come with me ! " 
 
 " Whither ? Oh Carl, tell me whither ? " 
 " To be made my wife ! Come, my poor child come ! " 
 With a quick cry of joy, the French girl wound her arms 
 about his neck, pressed her hot crimson lips to his, then they 
 passed out together. And at midnight, before a French Cath- 
 olic priest they stood side by side the boy-actor and the ballet- 
 dancer and uttered the vows which made them one !
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Look back upon the silentness 
 
 Of unreturning years 
 Thy faded hours of early bliss 
 
 Of passion and of tears. 
 
 THE DESTINY. 
 
 Two years had passed since the desertion of the merchant 
 Revere by his wife. The 'tenor of his life had little changed ; 
 his days were spent at his counting-house, and his nights at his 
 old place of resort ; fiot an additional wrinkle had seamed his 
 brow, nor another gray hair threaded his clustering curls ; out- 
 wardly no sign of Remorse marked his life, although its iron 
 fingers were clutching at his heart. 
 
 For Julie Revere the brilliant, peerless woman of fashion, 
 the faithful, passionate, tropic-hearted wife was gibbering and 
 mouthing in a mad-house ! 
 
 The terrible revelation of that night had been too much. 
 Pride, despair, all the wild unrestrained passion of her nature, 
 had lent her strength to write those bitter sarcastic words Re- 
 vere had read on awakening, had nerved her to trample her 
 costly jewels into the carpet till their crushed settings wounded 
 her delicate feet, then to flee from his presence ; and in her mad 
 flight through the streets of the sleeping city she had but one 
 purpose to place miles and leagues between them but at 
 length, even her fierce wild strength gave sway, and she fell 
 exhausted at the door of an humble cottage in the suburbs. 
 
 There, lying prone and senseless, its inmates had found her at 
 
 18 (205)
 
 206 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 morning dawn, and borne her within, summoning medical aid 
 but with returning consciousness came a memory of that terrible 
 revelation, and her anguish grew intolerably wild, until madness 
 ran riot in her brain. With furious gestures she beat off her 
 attendants, or sat for hours gazing at vacancy, moaning and 
 wringing her delicate hands. 
 
 Three days after, the keepers of the Insane Asylum took her 
 away. She had been recognized as the missing wife of the rich 
 merchant, Revere, for whom unavailing search had been going 
 on those three days, the unhappy man, for appearance' sake, 
 feeing the officers of the Police to prosecute their labors in every 
 quarter of the city, and so they found her. The events of 
 that night never transpired. Eager to seize upon anything to 
 satisfy the curiosity of the public, the merchant coined his own 
 story^and propagated it. " I came home, ill, late at night," he 
 said to his physician. " I lay down in my wife's chamber, after 
 asking for drink in which opium had doubtless been mingled. 
 Insanity must have been working in her brain, even then. When 
 I awoke, as you well know, ^he was gone." With this lie he 
 covered his own guilt, and satisfied the world. Like a thunder- 
 bolt it fell on the fashionable throng, who, but that night, had 
 revelled in her splendid saloons. Remembering how brilliant 
 she had been, how loudly her laugh had rung out at sallies of 
 wit, recalling her unnatural gayety and the sparkle of her eye, 
 they said, shuddering, "All this was, doubtless, the workings of 
 incipient madness ! " 
 
 And so the verdict was rendered ; and months passed, while 
 the beautiful woman came not forth from the asylum walls ; and 
 the gambler "merchant, by crafty cunning, had kept his good 
 name untarnished before the world. 
 
 There was much need for the sums which Revere, disguised 
 so that his most intimate friend could not have recognized him,
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 207 
 
 won at this time at the gaming table, for there were hard strug- 
 gles to ke^p aboveboard. Every where, there were crises in the 
 mercantile world which scattered the fortunes of years ; houses 
 of unimpeachable credit and integrity went down ; money was 
 only to be obtained at enormous per centages ; liabilities occurred 
 that every clay grew harder to meet ; and in the struggle, how 
 could Revere hope to escape ? At the time of Julie's flight he 
 had just completed a business arrangement with his former part- 
 ners, buying out the firm ; consequently, with no one to guide 
 or restrain him, he had boldly dashed into speculations, trusting 
 to Fortune for their result. In some he had succeeded, in others 
 failed ; but when 4he " hard times " came, he found himself in- 
 volved like hundreds of his brother-merchants. Then his old 
 temptation recurred. He might win enough at Gaming to make 
 all straight again ; and nightly he trod his olden paths seeing 
 not, for the few wayside flowers, its perilous steeps and engulf- 
 ing quicksands. 
 
 One night he sat alone in his library. Not the slightest 
 change in his domestic arrangements had occurred. A species 
 of dread, lest, should he abate a single appliance of wealth and 
 luxury, the world might obtain a clew to the real state of his 
 affairs, made him struggle like a drowning man to maintain every- 
 thing as of old. His elegant mansion though its sumptuous 
 suite of rooms with tufted carpets was untrodden by feet now 
 limited to a narrow cell was still retained under a heavy mort- 
 gage ; old servants had not been dismissed, though the posts of 
 many were mere sinecures ; Jupiter still exercised the sleek span 
 of bays, taking his master to and from his counting house ; and 
 the faithful Minnie, who had begged vainly to follow her mis- 
 tress into the Asylum, whence she was excluded by its strict re- 
 gulations, busied herself with arranging and rearranging the fur- 
 niture or wardrobe in " Missis Julie's " apartment, awaiting the
 
 208 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 day of her return. And tliis at last began to seem not improba- 
 ble. For that night, sitting in his library, Revere h/id read a 
 letter from the head physician of the Asylum, whose closing 
 words were, " If, from this long and prostrating illness Mrs. Re- 
 vere ever recover, it will be with her reason. For many months 
 mental disease has been succumbing to physical weakness it 
 may be longer yet, before the scales turn ; but when they do, 
 Death or Reason must be in the balance." 
 
 " Poor Julie ! So it has been from my youth up. Every 
 green and pleasant thing crushed in my pathway ! " mused the 
 merchant as his fingers closed over the letter ; and in that silent 
 hour, alone with Memory, a vision of his misspent youth swept 
 before him. 
 
 Conscience never dies. The spells of Pride and iron Will 
 are potent to lay her to sleep, but they cannot crush out her 
 breath utterly. Every heart has its " Ghost- Walk " where, up- 
 starting from muffling shadows, the phantom shapes of other 
 years go gliding by. Remorse, too, is hydra-headed, and carries 
 a quiver filled with barbed arrows ; nor is there a nature so en- 
 cased in its mail of selfishness or hard worldliness, but has some 
 little loophole of attack where one of these rankling weapons 
 may enter. Now, they pierced the heart of Augustus Revere. 
 As he sat alone with his own reproachful thoughts, sad eyes 
 haunted him, and the whole panorama of his cruelty to poor 
 Mary Halpine passed before him. Covering his face with his 
 hands, he groaned aloud. 
 
 He remembered it but too well. It was a starlight night in 
 early September, when he left the side of the brilliant Southern 
 belle and rode hastily to the home where the patient, deserted 
 girl awaited. Already a foul plot had been concocted to loosen 
 the bonds between them. The abduction of the four year old 
 Jasper, and the invention of the story that the child must have
 
 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 209 
 
 perished in the unfathomed waters of a dark lake near her se- 
 cluded home this was a cruel tragedy ; yet Revere was not so 
 hardened in wickedness then, as to deliberately plan the utter 
 separation of a mother and her child. Should Mary yield to 
 the proposal he had determined to make that night, he would re- 
 store the boy on whom he looked with a feeling akin to paternal 
 affection, so strongly had the little prattler entwined himself 
 about his heart ; but, was she obstinate, events must take their 
 own course. 
 
 Mary met him with a glad cry of welcome. 
 
 " Oh, Augustus, it is so long since you were here ! and I have 
 been very lonely since little Jasper " and tears choked her. 
 
 He remembered it all how the moonlight came in at the 
 cottage window how he unwound her white arms from his 
 neck, and put her away as one would a child whose caresses 
 annoy him. 
 
 " Augustus ! " she said, reproachfully ; but still he came not 
 near her, but paced the floor with agitated manner and a frown 
 upon his brow. 
 
 "What is it?" she asked. 
 
 " Something troubles you. Let me share your cares ! " 
 
 " It is nothing nothing at least not much. I have play- 
 ed deeply, and dost every dollar I owned. That is all ! " He 
 spoke bitterly. He acted his part well. 
 
 " Is it so bad ? " she asked, looking up into his face in won- 
 der. Then a gleam of sweet woman-love beautified every feat- 
 ure, and she folded her arms about him. 
 
 "We have love left, still. While that lasts, we cannot be 
 poor. Do not be harsh to me. Do not turn away from me, 
 Augustus ! " 
 
 This reply, so meek, so tender, touched him for a moment ; 
 but it could not turn him from the base purpose his iron heart 
 
 18*
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEX WILL. 
 
 had conceived. Yet it suited him then to lavish kisses upon the 
 poor flower his foot was crushing. 
 
 " Forgive me," he said, gathering her in his arms, " I know 
 not what I said I am almost mad. It is not so much for 
 myself I care, but for you. Every one of these luxuries will be 
 stripped from us by the inexorable hand of the law ! " and he 
 looked around the apartment fitted up with every appliance of 
 elegance. 
 
 " Let not a thought of this kind trouble you. I was reared 
 humbly ; and luxuries are no more needful for my happiness 
 
 than a gilded cage to a wild bird. But it is to you they have 
 
 i 
 become necessary. O, would there were some sacrifice by which 
 
 I could preserve them for you, my husband ! " 
 
 The time had come. " Mary," said Revere, " there is a way 
 in which you can do this." 
 
 " Only name it ! " she cried eagerly. 
 
 " You will keep your promise ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes yes ! anything to secure your happiness ! " 
 
 And then, with averted glance, for, with her pure sweet eyes 
 looking into his, he could not utter his base proposal with 
 averted gaze, he said " Mary, there is a lady who is the 
 heiress of thousands. With her gold, I could win back all my 
 lost wealth, and bind your brow with diamonds."* 
 
 " But how ? " and Mary Halpine looked up wonderingly into 
 his face " How can it be, Augustus ? This lady is she a 
 near relative, my husband ? " 
 
 " Child, can you not see ? She loves me ! You understand 
 me now ? " 
 
 Mary turned very white, then her pure brow was dyed crim- 
 son. She staggered to her feet. " Oh yes, I understand it now ! 
 It is very, very easy ! Strange that I could not see it before ! 
 Augustus Revere would make the wife of his bosom a thing of
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 211 
 
 shame ! That is all ! Oh Augustus ! " Her sarcastic words 
 ended in a burst of tears. 
 
 Revere was in no mood to restrain himself. The sight of her 
 tears maddened him beyond all bounds of prudence. 
 
 " Mary Halpine, sit down here and listen ! " and he forced 
 her to a seat. " You might as well know it now, as any time. 
 You are not you never were my wife ! That marriage was 
 all a sham illegal every way ! What do you sit there looking 
 at me so white and ghostly for ? "What's the use to make a fuss 
 over it ? It can't be helped now ! Besides, you're just as dear 
 to me as ever for, believe me or not, Mollie, I like you 
 better than I ever shall any other woman in the world and if 
 I weren't driven to desperation, nothing should have induced me 
 to take this step. But it need make no difference. My lady's 
 thousands will come very conveniently for you and I to spend ; 
 but you shall still have my heart, and every moment of my 
 leisure. There the whole matter's out now be a sensible 
 girl, Mollie, and make the best of it." 
 
 Recoiling with a shudder from the arm he would have thrown 
 about her, Mary Halpine rose. With outstretched palms, as 
 though warding off- a blow, she retreated. Fixing her eyes 
 upon him, going backward to the door, she said in a hollow voice, 
 " Augustus Revere, I am glad my boy is dead. God was mer- 
 ciful ! It were better he perished under the deep black waters, 
 than live to become like his father. God was very merciful ! 
 For myself, it matters not now. I am a weary, heart-broken, 
 betrayed woman ; but, much as I have loved you, I cannot 
 knowingly continue in sin. In thought, and word, and deed, / 
 have been innocent but may the All-Merciful pardon you ! 
 Nay, do not touch me ! " and with a gesture of loathing, and 
 a kind of benumbing terror settling down on every limb, she 
 shrank away. " My poor, poor mother ! And Reuben, too I
 
 212 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 It is a judgment a judgment ! " she murmured as she passed 
 out the door. 
 
 Thus it was that poor betrayed Mary Halpine went forth 
 from his presence ; and, after the lapse of seventeen years, her 
 pure, sweet, sad eyes and reproachful words came from out the 
 dead past to haunt him like spectres. The fangs of a terrible 
 remorse were fastened on his soul.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 There, I maddened ! her words stung me ! Life swept through me into 
 fever, 
 
 And my soul sprang up astonished ; sprang, full-statured in an hour : 
 Know you what it is when anguish, with apocalyptic Never, 
 
 To a Pythian height dilates you, and despair sublimes to power ? 
 
 E. B. BROWNING. 
 
 
 
 " ORAH, what is this ? So Jasper Golding is about to leave 
 the stage ! " said Louis Rowland, lounging into his sister's dress- 
 ing-room where she had been confined with a cold for several 
 days. " Do you feel well "enough to go to his Benefit, announced 
 for to-morrow evening ? " 
 
 " Leave the stage ! Benefit ! Why, brother, are you sure ? " 
 and delight alternated with surprise in the tones of Orah's 
 answer. 
 
 " Yes, positive ! Here it is in black and white," holding out 
 the morning paper. " ' Farewell to the stage.' ' Benefit of the 
 popular actor, Carl Linn.' And, what confirms it, happening 
 into Laws and Truman's office not a half-hour ago, they men- 
 tioned that they were to receive a new student the young 
 Golding whom they had met at our rooms. I remember 
 Esquire Laws sat waiting for father's return the afternoon of 
 Jasper's call, and we talked over our college days in his hearing. 
 The old lawyer prophesies a hard student, and seems to take 
 quite a fatherly interest in him. The secret of his life, as an 
 actor, is not out there. Our friend has two characters, it seems ; 
 and I shall undeceive no one. I am right glad Jasper is coming 
 to his senses. His wild oats sown, there will not stand a more 
 
 (213)
 
 214 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 talented law student in the city. But Orah, this seems to sur- 
 prise you ! You had no forewarning of this ? " . 
 
 " Certainly not," she answered with heightened color. " But 
 I wonder what induced the change ? I hope it is not a mere 
 whim ! " 
 
 Louis Rowland drew up an ottoman to his sister's low chair, 
 and sat down by her side, laying his hand on 1 hers. 
 
 " Orah, has Golding been here since your birth-night party ? " 
 
 " No ! " and her eye fell beneath his. 
 
 A smile of intelligence rippled about Howland's mobile mouth. 
 
 " I see it all ; and I more than suspect that a certath sister of 
 mine has been the chief instrument in bringing about this 
 ' consummation most devoutly to be wished,' " he Said archly. 
 " Orah, on that night, in a conversation with Mr. Eustace, when 
 that gentleman playfully rallied you on your success as ' Lucy 
 Ashton,' and recommended you to choose your future liege lord 
 from among the votaries of the Drama, did I not hear you reply 
 scornfully, contemptuously, to his bantering advice? And did 
 not Golding also hear those words ? I do not say, my sister, 
 that you uttered them wantonly, to wound his feelings but I 
 do say, that, by his flashing eye and his hasty withdrawal, they 
 struck home. His after absence confirms it." 
 
 A blush of shame reddened Orah Howland's cheek ; but a 
 proud curl sat on her lip. What! unveil her heart to her 
 brother ? Her woman's pride was up in arms against it. Let 
 him see that she cared for this actor she, who never had 
 bowed before ? No ! 
 
 " Orah," and Louis Howland's manner grew very earnest, 
 as he took her hand between both his " be yourself, my dear 
 sister ! Put off all this foreign pride. It is not your nature. 
 Now listen : Since I met Jasper Golding in his present career I 
 have not been forward in my proffers of advice, because I knew
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 215 
 
 that, with his hot proud heart, he would not receive advice as I 
 intended it for his good. And I also foresaw other influences, 
 lie is high-spirited, impetuous, passionate, yet noble-hearted and 
 generous ; and only the control of a similar nature can affect 
 him. ' The like may sway the like.' Orah sister the influ- 
 ence of a true-hearted, strong, decided woman would be of in- 
 calculable benefit to him, and I believe that power is yours. 
 Xay ! do not deny it our lawyer-craft makes us skilful in 
 reading the heart. I have long known what you surely must 
 have seen, since woman's perception is allowed to rival all the 
 lawyers' in Christendom Golding loves you ! And Orah, if 
 your words spoken in whatever mood they might have been 
 were the incitement to the step he has taken, then I see no 
 cause why you, or I, should repent them ; moreover, if he prove 
 true to his better nature in the new career he has entered, you 
 will have no need to crush the pleadings of your own heart. 
 There, not a word not a word ! Look your best for to- 
 morrow night ! Good morning ! " and affectionately kissing 
 her forehead, he went out. 
 
 Orah Rowland thought long and calmly after her brother had 
 left her. There had been struggles in her heart struggles 
 such as every proud woman with strong prejudices, experiences 
 many times in her life ; but they were over now. 
 
 Half-trembling, half-afraid, she took down every barrier, and 
 let in the great tide of happiness upon her heart its surging 
 waves uprooting and drifting afar off every old land-mark of 
 pride or coldness. The natural independence of her character 
 found sway, softened by the deep tenderness of her woman heart. 
 
 " And / have influenced him to do this ! " she murmured. " I 
 have swayed him to my will! Henceforth he will leave his 
 errors and his follies the wine cup and the stage ; and, in the 
 profession he has chosen, build himself an enviable reputation.
 
 216 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 He must prosper ! Every one allows his talent. He will be- 
 come honored, respected, loved. Yes, loved ! for henceforfh 
 my proud spirit shall bow to his, and acknowledge him my king. 
 That hour which witnesses his farewell to the stage, shall see 
 also the silent betrothal of my heart to his ! " 
 
 That " benefit night " was a splendid finale to " Carl Linn's " 
 brief and successful dramatic career. Never was there a 
 " Claude " more dangerously fascinating never high-placed, 
 ambitious love found more fitting exponent ; and as the young 
 actor poured forth his burning tide of devotion, Orah Rowland, 
 who sat radiantly beautiful beside her brother, suffered its waves 
 to overwhelm her heart. Mentally, she was the Pauline of his 
 love. Every enthusiastic sentiment seemed a call from his own 
 passionate soul to hers ; and in that hour, hearing not the deaf- 
 ening applause that greeted his farewell words, when, in a short 
 address, he expressed his heartfelt thanks to the audience whose 
 kindly presence had made this farewell a "benefit" indeed, 
 alluding gratefully to their leniency and encouragement of his 
 poor endeavors hearing nothing, heeding nothing, save the 
 rush of her own emotions swaying her spirit to their flow, she 
 resigned herself to their blissful tide. 
 
 " What ! dreaming, sister mine ? " playfully asked Louis, tap- 
 ping her arm with her fan. " But the enchanter's spell is over. 
 Come. let us go ! " and so ahe gathered the folds of her 
 opera-cloak about her and rose. 
 
 " Wait here a minute please. I will return presently," he 
 said, after handing her to the carriage. In a few minutes he 
 returned ; but not alone. By a gas-light near, Orah caught 
 sight of a pale handsome face and a well-known form. Her 
 brother talked gayly and in high spirits. 
 
 " Here, sister, I have brought you an old friend. Somehow,
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 217 
 
 he was decidedly ungallant urged the lateness of the hour, 
 and all sorts of excuses ; but I was inexorable. Orah, why 
 don't you welcome him ? Come, jump in, Golding ! " 
 
 A white gloved hand was offered from the carriage window. 
 " Mr. Golding, I am happy to see you ! " she said softly. 
 
 The hand was held tightly for a moment, then dropped sud- 
 denly ; and a " thank you ! " in a hollow formal voice was his 
 only reply nor was another word spoken after he entered the 
 carriage. 
 
 Orah felt hurt, almost chilled, for a moment, but in another 
 had pardoned him. Her own. pride had prepared this recep- 
 tion. He had not forgotten her words, then ? The thought sent 
 a thrill through her heart. Louis was in his most genial mood. 
 Orah mentally blessed him for it it was such a relief. The 
 two gentlemen conversed together. 
 
 "Come in, Golding!" said Howland gayly,"as the carriage 
 drew up at the curb-stone. "I want to celebrate a victory! 
 Will illuminate every -window ! Rouse up Tom, Dick and 
 Harry, and have three cheers for the emancipated actor. Come 
 don't hesitate ! " 
 
 " No ! it is late ! " and Golding hung back. " I ought 
 not!" 
 
 " Ah, your excuses are not valid ! The midnight chimes have 
 not yet rung. Your hand to my sister, if you please ! You 
 Avill not refuse a lady ! " and laughingly the young lawyer ran 
 up the steps and turned his night-key in the lock. Turning up 
 the gas in the hall, he threw open the drawing-room door. 
 
 " Ah, there you are, then ? Walk in ! Orah, you have 
 dropped your fan ! " and detaining her a moment by that pre- 
 tence to whisper softly, "There, I have been a good brother 
 have I not, sis ? Now pray, do cheer up the poor fellow, while 
 I pay my respects to Morpheus. Good night!" He lightly 
 
 19
 
 218 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 sprang up the stair-case ; and once again Orah Rowland found 
 herself alone in the presence of Jasper Grolding. 
 
 A struggle had passed in his heart as he stood on the threshold 
 of that dwelling. " I must not enter ! " he had said, but her 
 pleading eyes conquered. Was it wrong to sun himself once 
 more in the light of those radiant eyes ere he went out into the 
 cold world of darkness ? Yes, it was wrong he knew it but 
 he was weak, and he entered a dwelling whose threshold he had 
 thought never to cross again. But when he stood alone beside 
 her, the voice of Honor came speaking in thunder-tones " Go 
 hence ! You are acting unmanfully, dishonorably ! " He turned 
 toward the door. 
 
 " Will you not sit down ? You are pale ill ! Shall I 
 bring you a glass of water ? " and Orah's hand was on the 
 ebony door-knob. 
 
 " No, no ! " he said, arresting her hand and retaining it almost 
 unconsciously, while the gleam of his eager hollow eyes seemed 
 to burn into her own. " No, I am not ill at least mine are 
 not such ailments as physicians can cure. There are no potions 
 for a sick heart. For I am sick sick as death of myself, 
 of the world everything! Orah Rowland," and his hand 
 tightened over hers with a grasp cold and hard as steel, "I 
 was mad, to cross the threshold of this house to-night ! Some of 
 the happiest hours of my life have been passed here but this 
 is the most miserable ! No, not this ! for when I stood here 
 last, THAT was the time when hope was stricken from my heart, 
 leaving it dead and sere ! Proud girl, I wish to Heaven I had 
 never met you ! " and he flung her hand away. " But what 
 am I saying ? what am I saying ? " and he put his hand to 
 his head. " Let me go ! Why did you bring me here to mock 
 me?" 
 
 "No r Jasper Golding," and Orah stood close beside him,
 
 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 219 
 
 her hand upon his arm and two bright crimson spots on her 
 cheeks " No ! In this hour, I do not overstep the bounds of 
 maidenly propriety, if I tell you you shall not go hence till you 
 are calmer, stronger, happier ! I am not mocking you I am 
 not, indeed. Listen : Do I deceive myself, when I say that my 
 words won you from your past profession and enticed you to 
 another career ? Was it for me you did this, Jasper ? " 
 
 " It was for you ! But it is too late now ! Your kindness 
 should have been earlier, Miss Rowland ! " and he laughed a 
 short, nervous, almost frenzied laugh. 
 
 " No, it is not too late," said Orah firmly. " Jasper, I ac- 
 knowledge my fault. Do not blame me too much. I teas proud 
 I am so still ! I cannot help it God made me so ; but if I 
 tell you how all the time you have been in my heart how, all 
 the while " 
 
 " Stop, Orah Rowland ! You must tell me nothing more ! " ' 
 and Jasper put away the white hand laid appealingly on his arm, 
 looking very white about his lips " Nor must I longer listen to 
 words it would have once so thrilled my heart to hear. God 
 knows, had I foreseen this hour, I should have been sorely 
 tempted to desert Gabrielle but it is too late ! There were 
 barriers enough before between us your pride, my follies and 
 my profession but nothing like this. Orah, / am the husband 
 of another ! " 
 
 Orah Rowland spoke no word, but sank against the wall, her 
 midnight eyes fastened in a dull blank stare upon his. First, 
 her face was of an ashen hue ; then a hot, burning, crimson tide 
 rushed over it. She covered it with her hands. 
 
 Jasper stood grasping the carven back of a French chair. 
 His nails sank deep into the polished rosewood ; his lips were 
 compressed like iron. 
 
 " Orah Rowland," and the words came rapidly and proudly,
 
 220 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " you must not shall not despise me ! Listen to my de- 
 fence : Three months ago, I rescued from a terrible death a 
 young and beautiful girl. In the smoking ruins of the burning 
 dwelling whence I bore her, they found, next day, the charred 
 skeleton of that poor child's father. Then, alone in a stranger- 
 land, what wonder that she clung with a child's gratitude to her 
 deliverer ? I placed her among kind people in a quiet boarding- 
 house ; I obtained for her a situation in the theatre where I was 
 engaged for Gabrielle Franck was a dancing-girl. But after- 
 ward, when I knew that young child better, and saw how pure 
 her heart was, I would fain have dissuaded her from that life. 
 But she had been educated for it had crossed the wide sea to 
 appear in our theatres ; and with a woman's energy in a child's 
 frame, she resolved that she would not remain a burden to 
 others she would earn her own livelihood. Afterwards, she 
 
 took a violent cold, grew ill ; and I forbade her going any more 
 to the theatre. For a time it went on so ; till going from your 
 side two weeks ago this night I saw her name announced, and 
 found her there once more. -^- Poor child ! and what sent her 
 thither? Orah Howland, that child wreathed her lips with 
 smiles, and danced, to hide an aching heart for she loved me ! 
 And, though I bore her only such feelings as might a brother for 
 a younger sister, the world had not spared us ; venomous tongues 
 were busy with her reputation. That night I had left your pres- 
 ence you, proud and cold, and I despairing I found her 
 ill, and drooping under the shafts of venorned scorn. Was it 
 strange that I shielded her, even if I could never give her the 
 strongest, deepest worship of my heart ? Answer me faithfully. 
 Miss Howland, ought I to have done otherwise than make 
 
 . Gabrielle Franck my wife ? " 
 
 Orah's eye was humid, and she proffered her hand. 
 
 " Jasper Golding, you acted nobly ! Had you left that poor
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 221 
 
 girl with a tarnished name, much as I loved you, I could never, 
 never liave forgiven you ! It was no sacrifice. Go on now in 
 the new career you have chosen. J shall always watch you from 
 afar, as your friend." 
 
 " Orah Rowland, whatever of good you may hear of me in 
 the future, remember you made me so ! Farewell ! " and 
 pressing his lips reverently to the proffered hand, he went out 
 from her presence. 
 
 19*
 
 CHAPTER XXI V. 
 
 A warm and drowsy sweetness 
 
 Is stealing o'er my brain ; 
 I see no more the Danube 
 
 Sweep through his royal plain 
 I hear no more the peasant girls 
 
 Singing amid the grain ! 
 
 The elm and linden branches 
 
 Droop close and dark o'erhead, 
 And the foaming forest brooklet 
 
 Leaps down its rocky bed ; 
 Be still, my heart ! the seas are passed ! 
 
 The paths of home I tread ! 
 
 BAYARD TAYLOR. . 
 
 THERE was a great stir in Mrs. Delano's mansion one bright 
 February morning. Lucien Palfrey had returned. The aunt 
 welcomed her " dear nephew " with loud-voiced welcomes ; and 
 the elegant blonde, Florence, came down to the drawing-room in 
 the most becoming Marie Louise blue silk wrapper, and offered 
 her lily hand to her foreign looking cousin with her sweetest 
 smile. 
 
 When little Cora was summoned to meet her father, the maid 
 found her in the school room at the governess's feet, busily en- 
 deavoring to make a large waxen doll comprehend an illustrated 
 edition of nursery rhymes ; and when the child found herself 
 / carried to the drawing-room, to sit on the knee of a strange tall 
 man with a dark face and a quantity of unshorn beard on his 
 chin which pricked her little velvet cheeks as he kissed her over 
 
 (222)
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 223 
 
 and over again ; then she was sorely frightened and tried to 
 shrink away ; and though he tempted her with bon-bons and 
 dainty toys, asking mournfully, " if his little girl would not stay 
 with papa," she managed to slide from his arms and, as he 
 turned to answer a question from Mrs. Delano, slipped unob- 
 served from the drawing-room. 
 
 " Cora, pet but, ah, the truant has flown ! " said Dr. Pal- 
 frey, with a sad smile, hearing a little laugh of childish glee from 
 the stair-case. "Well, aunt, I need scarce wonder at this, I 
 suppose for it is my own fault that my child looks suspiciously 
 on the strange intruder. It must be my study now to win her 
 love. OH nurse Allen doubtless regards her claim on Cora as 
 stronger than mine." 
 
 " Oh yes, Allen is a good, faithful, necessary creature," return- 
 ed Mrs. Delano. "It gave me pleasure that the darling had so 
 devoted an attendant; especially, as both my children are now 
 beyond the age when a nursery girl is necessary. You see I 
 have made no change in my establishment since poor dear Mr. 
 Delano died. Not that / cared to continue here, my dear ne- 
 phew. Oh no, no ! " and a lace kerchief was applied to the 
 lady's eyes "some more retired home would have accorded 
 far better with a poor bereaved woman's feelings ; but I thought 
 of Florence how dull it would be after her graduation and 
 for her sake, remained here. When I opened the house for her 
 coming out party, it seemed like opening a tomb ; but I strug- 
 gled hard with such feelings. Society has claims on us all, you 
 know especially the young " 
 
 "And beautiful!" gallantly interrupted ^Palfrey, crossing the 
 floor and taking a seat beside his radiant cousin. 
 
 The gratified mamma's countenance glowed with pleasure. 
 " Really, Flor. should feel flattered that one who has met the 
 beautiful and titled of foreign lands finds his own countrywomen
 
 224 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 but laws ! what am I saying ? " and she laughed with an af- 
 fectation of embarrassment. " You will think me a foolish 
 mamma, nephew ? " 
 
 " Maternal pride, in this instance, is pardonable nay, com- 
 mendable" replied Palfrey, bowing, with a side glance at Flo- 
 rence. " Flatterer ! " interposed the beauty, pouting. 
 
 " Nay, what story does that reveal ? " and he playfully held 
 up 'her mirrored fan. " Seriously, my charming cousin, you are 
 looking little like the unmatured school-girl to whom I bade 
 farewell three years ago ! But I forget that Time never lingers 
 on. his way," and the brightened countenance fell. 
 
 " Lucien, I trust you do not intend going up to Sprfngdale at 
 present ? " interposed Mr.s.. Delano. 
 
 " Oh, no indeed ! Surely you will not take away our pet ! I 
 cannot spare her ! " chimed in Florence, looking more beautiful 
 than ever to the gratified father's eyes. 
 
 " Surely not, if you wish to keep her. Your words are law, 
 ma belle cousin," and he gallantly lifted her taper fingers to his 
 lips, adding in a tone of deep feeling, " Florence, I thank you 
 from my heart for this interest in my motherless child. She is 
 indeed a true woman who suffers such gentle feelings to sway 
 her nature who loves little children," then turning to Mrs. 
 Delano, continued, " Aunt, at the time Mrs. Livingston placed 
 Cora here, I feared she might be an intrusion on your house- 
 hold ; but I see now that I misjudged you. And now, my child 
 in such kind hands, perhaps I had better defer opening the old 
 house until Spring taking rooms, meantime, at the Astor. 
 But after all," and he sighed heavily ; " after all, a man longs 
 for his home. Travel wearies ; foreign lands cease to charm. 
 The old world, with its classical antiquities and treasures of art 
 ruins and temples, fallen obelisks and eternal pyramids, an- 
 cient libraries and galleries of painting and sculpture, Italian
 
 : 
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 225 
 
 sunsets and glaciered Alps, the castled Rhine and sparkling 
 Guadalquiver each and all, pall on the taste after a season, 
 and the wanderer's eye turns longingly homeward over the 
 ocean. And even the simplest thing a voice, a tone, a strain 
 of music - has power to bring the homesick tears into his eyes. 
 I can understand now," and his words were addressed to Flo- 
 rence who sat trifling gracefully with the tassel of her jewelled 
 fan, " why the Marseillaise so stirs anew all the old fires of 
 bravery in the enthusiastic Frenchman's soul why the Swiss 
 peasant so yearns for his native mountains when Alpine songs 
 are sung and why the sound of the bagpipes brings a vision 
 of Highland lochs and glens and heather bells to the eyes of 
 Scotia's wandering sons. One day it was in Florence, and I 
 had just left a picture gallery where Iliad lounged away a half- 
 day in passing an old cathedral, I heard a familiar strain that 
 made my heart leap. And what was it, think you, cousin mine ? 
 The Casta Diva, or II Trovatore, sung in their own liquid 
 Italian ? or any Opera you may have heard prima donnas war- 
 ble at your theatres, and which salute one's ear at every turn in 
 Italian cities ? No, indeed ! but, instead, there stood in front 
 of the cathedral steps a poor, half-clad, dreamy-eyed beggar boy, 
 strumming the strings of an old guitar to the stirring accompani- 
 ment of " Yankee Doodle ! " Now I am not naturally enthusi- 
 astic, or over-patriotic but, cousin, I declare that thrilled me !" 
 and as Lucien Palfrey rose, and, crossing the floor, leaned against 
 the marble mantel, an eloquent smile lighted a dark face whose 
 features in repose were sad almost to sternness. 
 
 " Yes, it thrilled me like a trumpet call the trumpet call of 
 Freedom ! Here, in down-trodden, priest-ridden, enslaved Italy, 
 the very street beggars sang the stirring National song of a great, 
 glorious republic ! Does it not prove, I argued, that no thrall, 
 no enslavement, can utterly crush out that inborn yearning for
 
 226 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Freedom which the Creator has implanted in every human heart ? 
 
 And straightway I had builded a most fair and powerful struc- 
 ture a very Temple of Liberty, with domes and towering 
 spires rending the blue Florentine sky and all this, reared on 
 the flimsiest foundation an Italian beggar's broken version of 
 our National psean ! And when, at the close, those sad, dreary 
 eyes looked wishfully into mine, and an oufs*frelched, olive-hued 
 hand implored, in bad English, ' Charity ' of the ' Signer ' : half 
 the contents of my purse were enthusiastically awarded him. I 
 was not giving alms to a lazy beggar. Oh, no ! I was invest- 
 ing a few coins of the ' filthy lucre ' toward the embodiment 
 
 a great, noble principle Liberty! But, alas for my delightfu 
 air castles ! "Wandering that way again a half hour later, the 
 refrain of an air strangely like ' God save the King,' died away ; 
 and I came suddenly upon my youthful herb, clad in a gay 
 scarlet tunic, lazily stmning himself on the steps of the Church 
 Santa Oroce, alternately humming the above-named monarchical 
 song, and greedily devouring that delectable of Italian beggars 
 
 maccaroni which, together with the gay tunic, were the 
 very democratic investments of my ' charity.' Ha, ha ! " and 
 the smile broke into a rich manly laugh, " Cousin Florence, there 
 was an end of my enthusiasm ! Down, down, like a plummet 
 dropped into the Adriatic, sunk my Temple of Liberty spires, 
 domes, national emblems and all. The dreamy-eyed Italian 
 was speedily transformed into a roguish, lazy specimen of the 
 ' Great Unwashed ' ; and the comparison I involuntarily made 
 between the sons of our sturdy Anglo-Saxon race and the ener- 
 vated children of the effeminate Southland, was anything but in- 
 spiring. American soldiers starving at Valley Forge, and dirty 
 Italian lazzaroni ! Yankee Doodle, and maccaroni ! Bah ! I 
 went to my palazzo ' a sadder and a wiser man ! ' " 
 
 " But this is a digression," added Palfrey after a slight pause. 
 
 'Ol/~ 
 
 ful
 
 1'KACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 227 
 
 " I wanted to tell you that the Italian beggar-boy's^ song an- 
 swered one purpose perhaps not an unimportant one, since it 
 sent me home. Yes, it set me to thinking. A breath of air 
 from the pine woods at Springdale seemed to sweep over me. 
 The first Mediterranean vessel bore me as passenger. So had 
 iny acquired cosmopolitan tastes grown upon me, that I came 
 near forgetting the child I left behind a care to others. I 
 came home." 
 
 "No, Cousin Lucien," and Florence Delano artfully veiled 
 her blue eyes, and rfhrew such a quiver of emotion into her sweet 
 llexile voice that no wou<ler it deceived her hearer " No, you 
 wrong us ! Little Cora has been no care on the contrary, 
 the light and joy of this house. For her own sake, no less than 
 yours, is she dear to us ! " 
 
 " Yes indeed, nephew," added Mrs. Delano, " I love that child 
 the same as my own darlings ! " . 
 
 " Thank you ! thank you both, my dear aunt and cousin ! " 
 replied Palfrey in a voice by no means steady. " This is very 
 grateful to me. Yet do not think that, though for three long 
 years the world has claimed me, I have ceased to remember 
 what drove me there. Aunt Delano, the old wound rankles 
 yet ! " and with a bitter compression of his lips he hastily left 
 the apartment. 
 
 And why, walking rapidly, yet with his head bent down like 
 one in a deep dream, did that bitter, sternly-sad expression 
 deepen about his mouth and every feature of that whilom 
 gay, animated, genial face seem to settle into a petrified, gloomy 
 repose ? 
 
 Ah, because memories which had clung to him amid all his 
 wanderings would not leave him then nay, had revived ten- 
 fold when he looked upon his motherless child ; because a 
 pale, agonized, beautiful face had followed him everywhere,
 
 228 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 coming between him and the pictured Madonna, between him and 
 every scene in every clime, looking up from the still waters of 
 Alpine lakes, down from soft Italian skies, out from the murky 
 folds of storm-clouds always that death-white, agonized face 
 the face of her who had breathed out, with repentant breath, 
 her life upon his heart Cora's dead mother. 
 
 " Florence, my love," said Mrs. Delano in a more thoughtful 
 mood than was her wont after -the departure of her nephew, 
 " Lucien is little changed. He will never forget his life with 
 Jenny, or her death. I believe he is one of the kiud who never 
 forget. Do you think he will ever marry again ? " 
 
 It was full three minutes before Florence Delano vouchsafed 
 a reply. Then, raising her head from her jewelled hand, her 
 scarlet lips were tightly compressed, and the deep steady blaze 
 of determination kinflled her eyes. "Beauty will never win 
 him," she said. "Much as he may admire, he never would 
 many again for it. His first experience was too dearly bought. 
 Mamma, there is one avenue to his proud heart. Whoever 
 would win Lucien Palfrey, must love his child must play the 
 tender, domestic, humdrum woman ! I wonder if I am equal to 
 that ? " and going to the full-length mirror she laughed some- 
 what scornfully, "Your very humble, devoted servant, cousin 
 mine ! " 
 
 Meantime little Cora had given her own version of the ap- 
 pearance of the stranger. 
 
 " O such a great big man ! " and she opened wider her bright 
 eyes " ever so big, like the giant Jack killed, I guess ! and 
 great black bushes on his face ! they scratched me jest like 
 nossing ! See ! " and she placed her chubby hands against 
 her cheeks. " Peace kiss it, and get it all well ! " and the dim-
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 229 
 
 pled face was uplifted lovingly to the teacher who gravely .went 
 through the process of " making it well." 
 
 " Cora don't want a papa 'cause, maybe, he don't like little 
 dirls, nor dollies, either ! Cora don't want to go down stairs 
 where the great big man is, any more ! Miss Peace got a great 
 big papa, too ? '* and she lifted her eyes inquiringly to the 
 teacher's face. 
 
 That a child's words should have power to move her so ! 
 Lonely Peace ! She choked back the rising sobs in her throat, 
 but she could not stay her quick rushing tears. Bending her 
 head among the bright curls, she wept quietly ; while a little 
 wondering child-face looked grave and almost thoughtful, then 
 pattering kisses rained on her forehead, and two dimpled* arms 
 made an embrace for her neck. When the governess looked up 
 she was calm again. 
 
 20
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 And now I will unclasp a secret book, 
 And to your quick-conceiving discontents 
 I'll read you matter deep and dangerous. 
 
 SHAKSPEAEE. 
 
 ART never yet has rivalled, or equalled Nature. No painter's 
 hand has transferred to canvas the gorgeous gold and amber 
 and purple of trailing sunset clouds ; the skies we see in pictures 
 are not the deep-blue skies that hang over country meadows in 
 summer time ; gilded frames never enclosed seething green sea- 
 wayes or strips of desolate beaches, so terrible or sad as the 
 revelation of a wild, wet, sandy shore by the lightning's flash ; 
 no pencil ever crayoned shadows so dusky as lurk in the hearts 
 of pine forests ; faces of wondrous beauty have gleamed upon us, 
 and we said " Lo ! the painter hath created a marvel. This 
 hath no antecedent or counterpart among earthly beings ! " 
 when, straightway, some rare radiant countenance, illumined by 
 heart-smiles and shades of expression which eluded the artist's 
 grasp, upstarted to mock anew his strivings. 
 
 Art never yet has equalled Nature ; and this is why no por- 
 trait upon the walls of a large picture-gallery exceeded in beauty 
 the fair young girl who paused upon the threshold one bright 
 winter morning, and threw back her veil from a face where the 
 very perfection of an artist's dream of loveliness lay. It was as 
 if a picture had stepped down from its frame, and the light of a 
 beautiful soul, breaking through every feature, had permeated it 
 into full, glowing, rich life. 
 
 (230,)
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEX WILL. 231 
 
 The attire of that young girl was of the commonest materials, 
 yet fitted exquisitely a perfect, rounded, flexile form slightly 
 below the medium height ; curls of that hue which poets define 
 as " brown in the shadow and gold in the sun " framed an oval 
 face of classic beauty; eyes of hazel seemed dreamy wells, 
 brimming with thought and tenderness ; and long curling lashes 
 swept delicate and -transparent cheeks. 
 
 Hare artist-girl, Leafy Earle !- One has written 
 
 " Methinks all poets should be gentle, fair, 
 And ever young, and ever beautiful ; 
 I'd have all poets to be like to this, 
 Gold-haired and rosy-lipped, to sing of Love," 
 
 so, methinks, they who see visions and dream dreams denied to 
 commoner mortals, they who strive ever to portray on canvas or 
 embody in plastic marble the one idea of Perfection, such 
 painters 'and sculptors, as well as poets, who, walking in their 
 own high paths, are shielded from contact with earth's meaner 
 things methinks they should learn some subtle alchemy by 
 which the Beauty in the midst whereof they dwell might become 
 imparted to their outward being. 
 
 Vain wish ! No more the gods come down to dwell with 
 men, and mortals grow radiant and beautiful by their ennobling 
 nearness ; no more, even, as in that elder time " when the morn- 
 ing stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy," 
 the Creator, looking upon man his best handiwork pro- 
 nounces him " good ; " for, alas ! ours is a sin-stained world, and 
 the trail of the serpent is over all. With the downfall of man's 
 purer, nobler nature, went also his high, stately beauty. The 
 primeval curse won by his first disobedience " By the sweat 
 of thy brow shalt thou earn thy bread" how has it trans- 
 formed godlike beings to dull, delving earthworms erasing the
 
 232 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN 
 
 Divine lineaments of those created originally in His image 
 dragging us ever, ever, nearer the dust ! Anomalies greet us 
 at every turn. Oftenest mere personal beauty is the veil for 
 mediocrity or vapidness ; and, as the commonest or unsightliest 
 casket may hold the rarest gem, so inferior physiques, or Caliban 
 shapes, even, enshrine the richest natures, most vivid imagina- 
 tions, warmest hearts. 
 
 But, fair poet and artist-girl, Leafy Earle how harmonious 
 the blending of thy mind and person ! thy delicate, spirituelle 
 loveliness but the type of an exquisite mental organization ! 
 
 " She was born 'mong water-mills, 
 She grew up 'mong flowers and rills, 
 In the hearts of distant hills. 
 
 There, into her being stole 
 Nature, and imbued the whole, 
 And illumed her face and soul." 
 
 Fair, delicate flower, transplanted from quiet woodland haunts, 
 what doest thou here in the glare and din of the great toiling 
 city? 
 
 Let us see. 
 
 Lingering a little time before the pictures, the girl turned 
 away and entered the adjoining salesroom. Producing a small 
 portfolio from beneath her shawl, she paused before the counter, ^ 
 addressing a few words to a clerk behind it. 
 
 " Ah hum ! pictures for sale ? " yawned the. young man 
 with a bold stare of undisguised admiration at the blushing face 
 before him " Let us see ! " and he drew forth the contents of 
 the portfolio. " Pshaw ! we have hundreds of such on our 
 hands now. But ah ! what have we here ? " examining two 
 exquisite miniature landscapes in water colors " Really, these 
 are not so bad, Miss ! If Mr. Blake were in, I think he would 
 purchase. Can't you call again to-morrow ? "
 
 PEACE : OU THE STOLEN WILL. 23% 
 
 A shade of disappointment crept about the artist-girl's sweetly 
 curved mouth. All that morning, and the long day preceding, 
 had she offered those pictures for sale, and at every application 
 received denial. Her need was imperative. In an humble 
 chamber of a crowded quarter of that great city an invalid 
 mother lay, and the fruits of her art must bring food and medi- 
 cine and coal to that mother's apartment. 
 
 " If you please," she said, hesitatingly, " I am really hi need 
 of the money to-day." 
 
 " I will give you five dollars for them," said the clerk ab- 
 ruptly. 
 
 The shade of disappointment on the girl's face deepened. 
 Those beautiful, beloved paintings, at which she had wrought 
 hours and days and weeks could she part with them for that 
 paltry sum ? " Perhaps I had better call to-morrow when the 
 proprietor is in," she faltered. " Or, could I not leave one with 
 you for that price ? for, really, sir, I thought they would bring 
 me much more." 
 
 The wily clerk read her need in her hesitation. " No, Miss," 
 he said, coolly, " laying the paintings back in the port-folio. 
 " But it's no matter. I offered you the five dollars at my own 
 risk, and after all perhaps Mr. Blake might not want them ; " 
 and he turned away with indifference. " Still, I would not mind 
 keeping my first offer," he added, looking up from his paper. 
 
 Heart-sick and weary, Leafy Earle was on the point of yield- 
 ing up the paintings. 
 
 " Pardon me, young lady but /will purchase those pictures 
 at a better price. Will you take twenty dollars for them ? " 
 
 Leafy looked up from the white hand laid upon her port-folio 
 into the dark handsome face of a tall, gentlemanly-looking, mid- 
 dle aged man. She had not observed him in the picture gal- 
 lery, nor has he followed her into the salesroom and overheard 
 
 20*
 
 234 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 the colloquy at the counter. "With a gesture of assent she re- 
 signed them into his hand. 
 
 He examined the pictures, and at length, in a tone of kind- 
 ness almost paternal, looked up fully into her clear hazel eyes. 
 " My child, they are very beautiful. I want them for a friend " 
 
 and he drew out his purse. 
 
 " Oh, s'ir, you are too kind ! I thank you sincerely ! " and 
 with flushed cheek and dimmed eyes she closed her taper fingers 
 over the two golden eagles he laid in her rosy palm. 
 
 " Stay, my child ! You are modest of your talents. These 
 pictures why, they are exquisite ! Stop a minute, if you 
 please," for Leafy was about departing. " Will you not give me 
 your address ? I shall want to send orders for more of these, 
 sometime." 
 
 Leafy wrote in her delicate chirography on a card, " Leafy 
 
 Earle, No. 10, Court," and with a gentle "Thank you ! 
 
 You are very kind," went out. Scarce had she disappeared, 
 when the purchaser of her paintings gave a short laugh and 
 said in a whisper to the clerk, 
 
 " Who is she ? Beautiful as a houri ! Has she ever been in 
 here before, Smyth ? " 
 
 " No never laid eyes on her. But she is devilish hand- 
 some. Ah, Golding you're a sad dog ! But come, say, shan't 
 I take that brace of landscapes off your hands for a cool twenty- 
 five ? They're beauties, anyhow. Mr. Blake wouldn't have 'em 
 slip through his fingers for that, I'm confident ! " 
 
 " Oh, for that matter, take them ! " replied Hugh Golding, 
 carelessly tossing them on the counter. " But on this condition 
 
 you agree to take all the pictures I may bring you ? " 
 
 The clerk winked significantly. "Ah, yes, I see! Pretty 
 girl in distress connoisseur in art plays the paternal - or- 
 ders pictures for friends visits her often ingratiates himself
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. . 235 
 
 into her favor. Ah. Golding, havn't done with your old ways ? 
 Mean to reform, perhaps, by and by ? It's a bargain ! " 
 
 " Enough ! " and the evil man gave a brilliant yet heartless 
 smile, as he stepped out on the pavement. 
 
 Suddenly turning a corner, he came face to face upon Jasper 
 Golding; he stopped, confused for a moment, then hastily re- 
 covering himself, reached forth his hand. 
 
 " Ah, Jasper, my boy, then I have run foul of you at last ! 
 Where'd you drop from ? the skies ? Havn't heard a lisp of 
 you since that aifair at Cambridge. Rather bad, that ! What 
 the devil did you cut up such capers there for, just because I 
 revealed what would have out, sooner or later ? Come, walk to 
 my hotel I want to talk that all over," and he familiarly link- 
 ed his arm in the young man's. 
 
 With a gesture of extreme haughtiness Jasper drew back. 
 
 " What ! Pretty treatment this for your guardian, sir ! " ex- 
 claimed the wilj Golding, an air of well-counterfeited sur- 
 prise and pain overspreading his features. 
 
 " Mr. Golding," and Jasper's face was deadly pale and his 
 voice full of concentrated scorn, " I have but few words to say to 
 you. I cursed you when your letter reached me with its crush- 
 ing revelation, and I despise you now. What your aim was, in 
 rearing me through boyhood, and then, my manhood almost at- 
 tained, showering on me those red hot scorching coals of dis- 
 grace," and Jasper ground his teth together. " What your 
 aim was, I say, I know not, nor care now. It might have been 
 a rare farce to you, but it was tragedy to me. But it is past 
 and I am what that revelation made me a degraded man. 
 Bitter as my heart is at this moment, I could forgive you all, 
 could you restore to me the blissful ignorance from which you 
 rudely hurled me. But you cannot ! Yet, low as I have 
 fallen, there are depths to which, thank God, I have never de-
 
 236 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 scended, and never will. From such as you, my guardian and 
 friend" and the words fell with withering sarcasm, " from such 
 as you I will henceforth keep aloof! Hugh Golding, during a 
 six months stay in this city, your name has not escaped me. 
 Sir, I know you and be assured that, in future, there can be 
 nothing in common between him who passed once as your adopt- 
 ed son and ward, and- Hugh Golding the gambler, libertine, 
 and hypocrite ! That is all : now let me pass, sir ! I have the 
 honor to wish you a very good morning ! " 
 
 Golding stood for a moment transfixed to the spot, with a 
 blaze of atonishment and anger in his eyes ; then, giving utter- 
 ance to a prolonged whistle, he walked on. 
 
 " Bah ! the lad talks bravely but I'll take the mettle out of 
 him ! " he said contemptuously. " Pretty treatment this, for 
 bringing him up in a decent Christian manner ! But that vil- 
 lain, Revere, brought it upon him. Hang it ! if I don't start 
 the story of this illegitimate son ! It can't injure me any more 
 in the boy's estimation, for it's evident enough he hates me ; 
 but it will blemish the hitherto cunningly preserved spotless 
 name of the wealthy merchant, and secure my revenge in that 
 quarter ! I'll do it, by Jove ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 There is a beauty of the body ; the superficial polish of a statue, 
 The symmetry of form and feature, delicately carved and painted. 
 But watch it well; for vanity and sin, malice, hate, suspicion, 
 
 Lowering as clouds upon the countenance, will disenchant its charms. 
 The needful complexity of beauty claimeth mind and soul, 
 Though many coins of foul alloy pass current for the true : 
 And albeit fairness in the creature shall often co-exist with excellence, 
 Yet hath many an angel shape been tenanted by fiends. 
 
 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 " CORA Cora, come down," said old nurse Allen at the 
 school-room door " Your papa wants you ! " 
 
 " Good bye, Miss Peace ! " said the child gathering up her 
 toys and large waxen doll, "I must take dolly down papa 
 hasn't seen her," and hugging it tightly in one arm, she skipped 
 lightly down the staircase ; and a little time after found her duly 
 installed on his knee, playing with his watch seals, playfully 
 patting his dark cheeks, cautiously venturing to touch the mys- 
 terious " black bushes " that ornamented his chin, or chattering 
 gleefully of the acquirements of her wonderful " dolly." 
 
 And the strong man's heart throbbed warmly, and his eye 
 grew tender. He remembered a time, upwards of three years 
 before, when he had clasped her a baby child to his heart, 
 laid her back on the nurse's lap and then gone forth to his wan- 
 derings; he thought of one now sleeping how beautiful she 
 had looked upon her bridal day, how ghastly her features upon 
 her death-bed ; he thought of his early dreams of happiness 
 how they had faded like ashes in his touch ; and gradually the 
 old expression of bitterness stole over his features. 
 
 (237)
 
 238 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Little Cora "had been watching his face during this silent 
 mood ; and, frightened by their gathering gloom, strove to break 
 the clasp of his circling arms. This aroused him. 
 
 " Why, would my little one leave her papa ? " he said mourn- 
 fully. 
 
 
 
 " But, papa so still Cora 'fraid," she ventured, shyly. 
 
 " 4 Well, papa was very still," he replied with a smile. " He 
 must talk to his birdie," and his eye grew moist with tenderness. 
 
 " Papa cry ! Papa cry, like Miss Peace, when Cora find her 
 all alone," and two dewy coral lips touched his eyelids. 
 
 " Miss Peace and who is she, little one ? " he asked, after a 
 pause. 
 
 " Why, don't you know ! Dear, good Miss Peace ! " and the 
 child's eye dilated in wonder. " Why, she lives up stairs, and 
 reads out of big books, and makes Vicky play on the piano, and 
 'Lexis say ever so many hard lessons. And she lets me see all 
 the pitcher books, and tells pretty stories ! " 
 
 " Really ! a paragon ! " said Palfrey, smiling. 
 
 "Oh, she is real good! She says she do love little dirls 
 and I guess she love dollies, too, 'cause she makes mine such 
 pretty aprons : see ! But, come up and see Miss Peace 
 come ! " and she slipped down and began tugging at his hand. 
 
 " Not now, my dear," he said, patting her curly head. " Aunt, 
 I take it that this Miss Peace is the governess ? " addressing 
 Mrs. Delano, who at that moment entered. 
 
 "The governess?" and a malicious look darted toward the 
 little girl " Ah, yes ; a poor girl whom I have obtained recent- 
 ly. Your little darling has had the liberty of the school-room 
 with my children. She is very fond of Victorine." 
 
 " But I like Miss Peace best" persisted the child with anima- 
 tion. " Oh, she is real nice ! do come, papa I will make her 
 tell you such a funny story ! "
 
 PEACE: .OR THE STOLEN WILL. 239 
 
 "No, no not to-day!" he replied, catching up the little 
 pleader and tossing her high-above Ms head "but really, aunt, 
 this elf has quite awakened my curiosity. Have you for a 
 governess some Princess of the Arabian Nights' Entertainments, 
 or an Aunty Wonderful in disguise ? " 
 
 " Or a Mother Goose" suggested Florence Delano, in a voice 
 whose sneer was lost upon Palfrey as he turned toward the sofa 
 where she sat busy upon a graceful trifle of embroidery. 
 
 " Mother Goose ? " repeated Palfrey, advancing nearer while 
 a genial smile lit up his fine eyes and an expression of quiet hu- 
 mor played about his lips, " Why, my fair cousin, your words 
 have conjured up a host of memories. That same benignant 
 dame was the Ulustrissima of female poets to my childish imagi- 
 nation. Grecian Sappho never sang so divinely, nor tale of her 
 headlong death, adown Leucadian steeps, sank half so painfully 
 upon my heart, as the affecting recital of 
 
 " Ding dong bell, 
 
 The cat's in the well ! " 
 
 No classics of the Homeric or Hesiodic school, conned in after 
 years under the kind protection of my Alma Mater, were im- 
 pressed on Memory's tablets like those wonderful Nursery Rhymes ; 
 and the voice of my old nurse, croning them over while I sat on 
 her knee beside the twilight fire, was sweeter than any lauded 
 cantatrice or 'prima donna I have heard these latter days in 
 crowded theatres. After all, the child is your only true critic, 
 and I have wonderful faith in childhood, cousin mine," he 
 added, with a dash of feeling. 
 
 " But, to change the subject somewhat abruptly, do you go to 
 Mrs. St. Albans's to-night ? Her ' At home ' is on my table." 
 
 " Yes, I think so. That is, I believe mamma has accepted, 
 Have you not, mamma ? " asked the fair beauty languidly.
 
 240 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " Certainly, my dear. But pray, do not go unless you wish ! 
 Would you believe me, nephew this naughty girl of mine " 
 and Mrs. Delano tapped Florence's cheek " has absolutely to 
 be forced into society ! I don't know but I should have had 
 her turning nun on my hands, or settling down into a quiet, 
 humdrum, domestic sort of body, long ere this, if I had not sent 
 out invitations and accepted many, solely to win her from such a 
 stupid life ! " 
 
 Lucien Palfrey cast a look of interest upon the beautiful girl 
 who sat there, fair as a peerless lily, in her delicate cashmere 
 morning wrapper, and whose cheek did not redden for the 
 mother who could utter so deliberate a falsehood. For Mrs. 
 Delano knew the rock upon which her nephew's bai;que of 
 domestic happiness had stranded in his brief wedded life ; and 
 Florence, too, anxious to bring Lucien Palfrey to her feet, was 
 prepared to play any part. Thus she did not hesitate to take 
 up the cue her mother's words had given her. 
 
 "Indeed, mamma," said the beauty with a becoming pout, 
 " now why must you tell cousin Lucien that ? You make me 
 out the dullest of mopes, when I had really intended to go every- 
 where, and invite everybody here, in honor of his return." . 
 
 " But suppose cousin Lucien will not accept the sacrifice ? " 
 said Palfrey with a smile. " But, seriously, Florence, am I to 
 believe that one so eminently qualified by her accomplishments 
 to shine in the gayest circles is sincere in preferring the quiet of 
 her own home to such pleasures ? " 
 
 Florence looked up. 
 
 " Indeed, you cannot blame me, Mr. Palfrey cousin Lucien, 
 I mean ! " she said with modest hesitation. " I am aware that 
 society has claims upon every one, which we ought not to ignore ; 
 but, to me, they are often irksome, and I find myself longing for ^ 
 nobler pursuits than this ceaseless chase after Pleasure."
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 241 
 
 Oh, she played her part right well that artful girl ! 
 
 A flush of gratification lit her companion's cheek. It was 
 something decidedly new to the world-weary man, to listen to 
 such words from girlish lips. But the old sore yet rankled in 
 his heart; and though a smile crept about his lips the olden 
 bitterness was infused into his reply. 
 
 " Then, Florence, I have to say that you differ greatly from 
 most of your sex whom it has been my fortune to meet. Why, 
 I had the idea that an elegant equipage, town establishment, 
 Opera boxes, 'loves of bonnets,' and jewelry, were indispensable 
 to a woman's idea of bliss ! And, indeed, I fancied that the 
 words ' domestic enjoyment,' ' home,' and ' happiness,' were 
 obsolete ! " 
 
 But Florence Delano understood too well the man beside her, 
 and the stake for which she had cast down her truthfulness, to 
 falter now. 
 
 "Cousin Lucien," and dropping her eyes,- yet smiling 
 sweetly, she laid her white hand on his arm " do you believe 
 there are no true women, who prefer their own firesides and the 
 companionship of kindred souls to the hollow flatteries and friv- 
 olous pleasures of the ball-room ? Oh, believe me, cousin, you 
 wrong us sadly. But really ! " and she laughed lightly "I 
 did not intend to read an essay on " The True Woman," or a 
 homily on " Domestic Joys," 9- especially to one who has been 
 so cosmopolitan in his tastes for the past few years. And yet, I 
 have a mind to try and win* you to my theory. See ! I throw 
 y,pu a challenge ! " and she playfully drew a tiny white kid 
 glove from her work-box and tossed it toward him. 
 
 " F faithj my ladye fair," said Palfrey, securing the glove, " I 
 accept the gage, but not as a challenge, though. Rather let me 
 wear it here, next my heart, as a loyal knight should ; and. thus 
 I cry your pardon for my ungallantry," lifting her white hand 
 
 21
 
 242 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 to his lips. " But Florence," and his voice grew sadly ear- 
 nest, and his trifling vanished, " read' to me, when you like, 
 the homilies my heart loves best ; for, my dear cousin, you can 
 never know how, amid all my past three years' wanderings, I 
 would have given all my wealth aye, my right hand, even 
 for what has always been the Mecca shrine of my heart- 
 pilgrimages the goal of all my desires true hearts to love 
 me, and a happy, quiet spot to call my home ! Cousin, La my 
 boyhood they called me Dreamer ; but now, 
 
 " Youth with all its dreams is over, 
 
 Manhood's seal is. on my brow; 
 Life's Meridian Line approaching, 
 
 Turn I back a moment now 
 Turn and gaze through lengthened vistas, 
 
 Back to Childhood's rosy hours 
 To the Morning and the Spring-time 
 
 To the pathway 'raong the flowers. 
 
 " Gone is Morning, gone is Spring-time 
 
 Gone the early Summer days 
 Gone with all their buds and flowers 
 
 Gone with all their golden rays ! 
 Gone are hopes most fondly cherished, 
 
 Plans matured with thoughtful care : 
 Castles grand, by Fancy builded, 
 
 All have melted back to air ! 
 
 " Youth hath passed away like morning, 
 
 All its dewy freshness gone, 
 And my path is 'mong the mountains, 
 
 Which was erst upon the lawn ; 
 Many a league, in truth, I've wandered, 
 
 On Life's checkered, devious way, 
 Since I started from the Orient 
 
 At the dawning of the day.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 243 
 
 " Oft in sunshine, oft in shadow, 
 
 On my way thus far I've come, 
 Still a lonely, exiled wanderer 
 
 Yearning still for Love and Home 
 Yearning for a place of refuge 
 
 From the world's unceasing strife, 
 Where, by loving arms encircled, 
 
 I may find the Goal of Life ! " 
 
 " But I weary you, Florence," he said after the pause fol- 
 lowing this recital, the flush of enthusiasm fading from his 
 cheeks. " I am a very raven to bring my croakings into a bird 
 of Paradise's nest ! " 
 
 " No, not a bird of Paradise ! Say, rather, an humble spar- 
 row, that is content to sit and sing beneath the eaves," replied 
 Florence with a brilliant smile. 
 
 " Half-won already. I. have touched the key-note to his 
 heart," said the fair blonde triumphantly, as his footstep died 
 away in the hall. " Domestic joys ! ha, ha ! " and a low 
 silvery laugh rippled its waves of sound throughout the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 That night, Lucien Palfrey found his cousin in a bewitching 
 negligee costume in her boudoir. 
 
 " Mamma has been gone to Mrs. St. Albans's a full half-hour. 
 But do not lose your evening's pleasure for me." 
 
 " For once, gallant knight must disobey his ladye fair," he 
 said, seating himself beside her ; and it is needless to add that 
 Florence did not send him away.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 And a little child shall lead them. 
 
 HOLT WBIT. 
 
 u AND so the ladies are absent ? " 
 " Yes, sir ! at the Opera," was the porter's reply. 
 Palfrey half turned to descend the steps, then, changing his 
 mind, entered ; deposited his hat and cloak in the hall ; and ran 
 lightly up the stair-case. Meeting old Nurse Allen on the 
 upper landing, he said cheerfully, " Good evening, aunty ! this is 
 Cora's room the nursery, I believe ? " pointing to the left. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Lucien but the little thing's fast asleep, I reckon. 
 I left her in her crib, I'll jest step back with you." 
 " No matter, aunty. You were going below stairfe ? " 
 " Only to sit a few minutes with' the housekeeper, that's all ! " 
 " Well, never mind me ! Go down, and I'll just step in and 
 sit by my little one a few minutes before I go down town. Good 
 night ! " 
 
 A shaded lamp cast a faint light over the apartment ; a child's 
 crib, draped jn white, filled a small recess at one extremity ; and 
 a little rocking-chair stood where its youthful owner had left it, 
 near the grate. Advancing to the crib, Palfrey's foot touched 
 something on the carpet. It was a dainty kid shoe, ^till rounded 
 with the swell of a tiny foot ; and, holding it in his hand, a 
 tender smile rippled about his lips. Then, looking down where 
 lay dollsj toys and picture-books, scattered about, he said softly, 
 " Care-free child, these are your happiest days ! " then parted 
 the lace curtains from the crib. 
 (244)
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILT,. 245 
 
 But no little sleeper lay on tlie snowy pillows, though they 
 bore the imprint of a small head ; and the counterpane trailed 
 over the crib-side as though she had just crept out. 
 
 " Cora ! Cora ! where are you, my child ? " said Palfrey, 
 peering about the room, in corners, under tables and behind 
 curtains, " Little one, I will get you ! " for the thought involun- 
 tarily crossed his -mind, that the playful child, hearing his 
 approach, had slipped out and purposely hidden to tease him. 
 
 Presently a smothered laugh was heard in the direction of the 
 sliding-door communicating with the school-room ; and a little 
 curly head peeped out from behind a large arm-chair, two blue 
 eyes sparkled roguishly, and with a gay " Papa ! papa ! " Cora 
 bounded to his arms. 
 
 " Why, little one," and he clasped her tightly " Papa 
 thought the fairies had stolen you. Now I shall put you right 
 back into your bed again." 
 
 " No, no ! " and she slipped adroitly to the carpet, fleeing in 
 the direction of the school-room door, " No, no Cora don't 
 want to go to bed now ! She wants to hear Miss Peace tell the 
 pretty stories. Come, papa, come too ! " and tugging hard at 
 his hand, before he fully comprehended her movement she had 
 pushed aside the door, and drawn him toward the school-room 
 fire where, reading beside a table, sat Peace Wedgewood the 
 governess. 
 
 Suffering himself to be pulled down into a chair which, with 
 a great display of tiny strength, the child had dragged toward 
 the grate, Lucien Palfrey found himself face to face with a 
 beautiful young girl into whose lap Cora climbed fearlessly, and 
 winding her arms about her neck pleaded, after a long breath, 
 " There, I got him but it was ever so hard ! Now, dear Miss 
 Peace, tell my big papa a nice story ! " 
 
 "Why, Cora Palfrey !" 
 
 21*
 
 246 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN 
 
 A slight flush of embarrassment rose to the governess's cheek, 
 and she involuntarily started up. Palfrey rose also, a smile 
 flitting across his lips. 
 
 "Pray, don't go !" he said earnestly. "It is I who am to 
 blame for intruding here. I should have known better than to 
 follow a wild, wayward child, and will depart at once, if need 
 be ; and yet it is right pleasant here," glancing from the fresh 
 young face before him to the table laden with books, " and why 
 must the edict of banishment be spoken ? " 
 
 Peace lifted her eyes involuntarily to a genial, smiling coun- 
 tenance. " Certainly, if you wish it," she said with self-posses- 
 sion. " I were sadly deficient in politeness or hospitality, other- 
 wise. Will you not be seated ? " and she laid her hand upon a 
 chair. 
 
 u Thank you," replied Palfrey. " But first since there is 
 no third party to perform the ceremony of introduction, and this 
 little madcap does not seem suitably impressed with the necessity 
 of these points of etiquette we must, perforce, become our 
 own mediums. Accordingly, permit me to present to Miss 
 Peace Peace really, I am at a loss how to proceed," and 
 he paused with a ludicrously grave air. 
 
 u I am Peace Wedgewood, the governess," was the reply with 
 a low laugh. 
 
 " Ah yes, thank you ! Then, Miss Peace Wedgewood, gov- 
 erness, I am Lucien Palfrey, M. D., father of this little elf here 
 at your service ! " and bowing her into a seat he sat down 
 opposite, lifting Cora to his knee. 
 
 In the short pause that followed, Peace lowered her eyes to 
 the glowing grate and her companion, studying her counte- 
 nance, had no inclination to break the silence, until, finding it 
 becoming irksome, he said, caressing Cora's curls the while, 
 
 a You will not think me a flatterer, Miss Wedgewood, if I say
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 247 
 
 I do not longer wonder that this little one is tempted to forego 
 slumber for listening to fairy tales. Nor will I hesitate to ac- 
 knowledge that I have a decided penchant for hearing such 
 narratives, myself since, as somebody asserts, men are but 
 children of a larger growth ; so I have half a mind to request a 
 like treatment." 
 
 "Oh, yes indeed, ' papa !" exclaimed the child, half-compre- 
 hending his words, and slipping from his arms toward the 
 teacher. " Do, p'ease, dear Miss Peace, tell my big papa 'bout 
 the great ugly thing that ate the good grandmother ! Oh, do ! " 
 
 A smile gathered about Peace's lips. 
 
 " What does the chick mean ? " queried Palfrey. 
 
 "Why, don't anybody know?" said Cora pettishly. "The 
 great naughty wolf, that ate the grandmamma all up, and put the 
 bones under the bed and had such great eyes and such 
 gre-a-t mouth ? But do say it all, Miss Peace ! " coaxingly 
 putting her two soft palms against the teacher's cheeks. 
 
 " Not now, my dear ! " she answered softly. A grieved look 
 crept about the child's mouth ; she turned appealingly to her 
 father. 
 
 " It is no matter ! Do not tease your teacher to-night. 
 Come, let me take you back to bed. Nurse will scold her little 
 
 girl." 
 
 But Cora evidently did not relish the proposition. Snuggling 
 her head down to Peace's shoulder, she hid her face. 
 
 " Let her remain, please. She will sleep presently," pleaded 
 Peace. " She often steals in here of evenings, and falls asleep 
 so. During many hours of loneliness since I came to this 
 house, even the company of a little one like this," and her hand 
 smoothed the sunny curls with a caressing movement, " has been 
 very cheering to me." 
 
 Her eyes sought the dim glow of the cindered coal fire, and
 
 248 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 her head leaned listlessly against the back of the high carven 
 chair. 
 
 Palfrey's eye rested appreciatingly on the picture before him. 
 With her sable mourning attire enhancing the pale fairness of 
 her complexion her soft hair, burnished almost into gold by 
 the glowing firelight, disposed in smooth bands over her white 
 forehead her meek, drooping eyes, her small white hands 
 clasped about the child's form she seemed a beautiful Ma- 
 donna picture, fairer tlian any he had gazed upon in his wander- 
 ings. 
 
 "Miss "Wedgewobd," and his voice thrilled with sympathy, 
 " if a child like this is your only companion, you must be very 
 lonely here. Is it not so ? " 
 
 Peace raised her drooping eyes. " Yes it is so different 
 here,'' she said. " I came from a large school, and I am lonely 
 here, but I do net think of it much. These are my companions, 
 mostly, in my solitary hours," and she laid her hand on her 
 books. 
 
 " Yes," said Palfrey, taking up a volume of Bryant's poems 
 open at the Thanatopsis, " and you choose wisely. Books are 
 the truest companions. They bring us the gathered lore of the 
 historian, the sublime crqutions of the poet, the fascinating tissue 
 woven warp and woof from the romancist's brain." 
 
 "And what is better, they change not, nor grow cold, nor 
 leave us. Earthly friends may perish," and Peace spoke sadly, 
 " but with these faithful ones left us, we can never be wholly 
 alone.'' 
 
 Palfrey smiled appreciatingly. " You have known bereave- 
 ment, then ? " he asked kindly, glancing at her sable dress. 
 
 " Yes, I am all alone in the world ! " 
 
 Those few sad words thrilled his very heart. 
 
 But, as yet, it was no feeling of common love which moved
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 249 
 
 Lucien Palfrey toward the lonely Peace. Much as a father 
 might have gazed upon a daughter, or an elder brother longed 
 to cheer a sorrowing sister, so his sympathetic soul warmed 
 toward her. 
 
 "And so, in your solitude you turned to these silent teach- 
 ers?" he said at length. "Most, like you, young and fair, 
 would have sought instead, the gayeties and allurements of the 
 world." 
 
 " Is it so very pleasant then this great world ? " asked 
 Peace in a quiet tone. 
 
 "Its pleasures are always fair and glittering to the young. 
 Have you never pined for them, sometimes ? " 
 
 Peace smiled. There was a sudden flash of her eyes but 
 their lids drooped quickly as if to crush back their bright- 
 ness. 
 
 " My experiences of life, although neither stirring or various, 
 have partaken too largely of the actual to leave me little time for 
 the ideal. My wishes have been circumscribed to an humble 
 sphere. I am no dreamer." 
 
 " But surely you do not mean that you never longed for 
 some change from the stereotyped routine of daily life ? Long- 
 fellow, somewhere, in speaking of a school-mistress, says 
 
 " She dwells beside Kanawha's tide 
 
 In valleys green and cool ; 
 And all her hope and all her pride 
 Are in the village school," 
 
 and is it that you are thus absorbed in your vocation, and rest 
 content ? You are an anomaly, then. Women are said to 
 sigh for change constantly, you know ! " 
 
 " A libel upon us," retorted Peace gayly. " You see that I, 
 for one, am the embodiment of Content" that this school-room
 
 250 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 is my queenly realm, my pupils most loyal subjects, and the 
 sovereign supremely happy in her birthright ! " 
 
 " Then, if I am to believe you, Miss Wedgewood," replied 
 Palfrey "if you can thus shut the door on the Past, dwell in 
 the Present, nor strive constantly to pierce into the fathomless 
 Future, then indeed you do enjoy a negative kind of happiness. 
 You know nothing of that unresting heart Avhich is haunted, aye,. 
 tortured, by Memory you know nothing of the wearying, 
 fruitless search after peace ! " and with a sigh he leaned his 
 head on his thin white hand, gazing into the grate. 
 
 And Peace's head drooped lower, till her face was buried in 
 Cora's curls. What could those two each dowried with such 
 sensitive, high-souled natures know of the thoughts that slept 
 in each other's hearts ? of the death-white face ever haunting 
 Lucien Palfrey, and the unrealized visions of a dreamy youth- 
 time reaching their mocking fingers from out the perished past 
 
 or the one deathless wish, whose strong under-current swept 
 continually through the waters of Peace's soul " Oh, to live 
 no more unloved and lonely." Each had veiled their nature. 
 At length Palfrey drew a long sigh, and withdrew his gaze from 
 the fire. He met the uplifted tearful eyes of the young girl. 
 
 " Pardon me, Miss Wedgewood," he said earnestly and 
 warmly. " I have done wrong in making your, doubtless jesting 
 words, a text for a mournful homily. Every heart knoweth its 
 own bitterjaess. Sorrow comes early to some, late to others, but 
 surely to all. Even this little dreamer has her transient griefs 
 
 tiny clouds in her young life-sky. Ah, would they might 
 never grow larger, or darker, with years ! But she is asleep, I 
 see let me relieve you ! " and he carried the child to her 
 bed in the adjoining room. 
 
 " I have spoken freely," he added, returning, ." but, somehow, 
 in speaking to you thus,*it seems as if I had known you always.
 
 PEACE I OR THE STOLEN WILB. 251 
 
 I never had a sister, Miss Wedgewood but you are the real- 
 ization of my ideal of one ; and at least there is one bond be- 
 tween us our mutual loneliness. For, save the little dreamer 
 on yonder pillows, no drop of my blood runs in any living* 
 being's veins." 
 
 " Mrs. Delano, and Florence ? " said Peace inquiringly. 
 
 " The former is my aunt but by courtesy. She was the rela- 
 tive of Cora's mother. But I see you have been playing," 
 and he approached the open piano, and leaning over it hummed 
 the song upon the music-rack. 
 
 Peace stood by, and a shiver of delight ran through her frame 
 as, in a rich tenor voice, he lightly sang : 
 
 " The dearest spot on earth to me 
 
 Is home, sweet home ! 
 
 The fairy-land I long to see 
 
 Is home, sweet home ! " 
 
 
 
 With an abrupt movement he turned away. A bitter spasm 
 contracted his lips ; then, observing the brilliant flush of 
 Peace's cheeks and the dreamy light in. her eyes, he smiled 
 sadly. 
 
 " You said you were no dreamer but, Miss Wedgewood, of 
 what are you thinking now ? Perhaps your imagination rears 
 the fabric of a beautiful dream which has faded for me domes- 
 tic happiness. Once, I could have sung these words in fullest 
 faith ; now, they are dead letters on my lips. God grant no 
 other heart may be desolate as mine ! But what am I saying ? 
 I weary you. And yet, how lightly time has passed ! Ten 
 o'clock, as I live ! " looking at his watch. " Verily, Miss 
 Wedgewood, I believe you are an enchantress, holding the hours 
 in a rosy thrall ; for I came near forgetting that I must look in 
 at the Opera House on my return. I see now, what lure brings
 
 252 I*EACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 my child hither ; and am sorely tempted to ask the favor of an 
 occasional admittance also. Am I presuming in asking this, 
 Miss "Wedgewood ? May I come here again, sometime ? " he 
 added, lingering, 
 
 " No, and yes," replied Peace frankly.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The fateful day passed by ; and then there came 
 
 Another and another. 
 
 MAKCIAN COLONNA. 
 
 She never felt 
 
 The summer fly that flits so gayly round thee 
 She never felt one moment what I feel 
 With such a silent tenderness, and keep 
 
 So closely in my heart. 
 
 PERCIVAL. 
 
 THE long cold winter had melted into spring. To the pale, 
 earnest student, Jasper Goldihg, gaining a knowledge of his pro- 
 fession with hasty strides, and above all striving manfully to for- 
 get one whom it was a sin to love then, the months had passed 
 rapidly, if not lightly. 
 
 The profits of his last Benefit night supported the student and 
 his child-wife. Three rodms were rented in a quiet respectable 
 portion of the city ; and there Gabrielle's busy loving fingers 
 burnished and brightened everything, making a pleasant home. 
 It was very beautiful the love which enriched her young life 
 and for a season held the ravages of disease in thrall, giving 
 her strength to flit about her household tasks. Since the night 
 of her marriage, her feet had never trod the boards of a theatre. 
 It was enough to preside over the home whither Jasper had 
 brought her to bear his name to arrange his books to 
 draw the curtain-folds over the windows at evening, place his 
 dressing-gown' and slippers by the fireside, draw the dainty tea- 
 table nearer ; and when, later, he lay on the sofa exhausted with 
 
 22 (253)
 
 254 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN 
 
 his day's mental toil, thread her attenuated fingers through his 
 hair or murmur low sweet songs. 
 
 And the boy-husband how could he do otherwise than give 
 back love for her idolatry ? Not, indeed, such a rich deep affec- 
 tion was it as his heart , had once yielded to another but a 
 quiet, tender, cherishing love. And, seemingly, it satisfied 
 Gabrielle. 
 
 This devotion had made her strong, I have said, and so it 
 was for a season ; but advancing spring brought a change. In- 
 creasing lassitude arrested her step, the hectic deepened on her 
 cheek, and a brighter splendor lit her eye. And yet, deceived 
 by her fitful intervals of momentary strength, she walked 
 blindly on. 
 
 " Jasper," she said one night as she sat beside him, " don't 
 you see how well and strong I am getting ? My cough is almost 
 gone, and my cheeks are red as Provence roses. If it were not 
 for this little pain in my side, I should be well as ever." 
 
 He took her in his arms, lifted one of her thin diaphanous 
 hands and followed its faint tracery of shrunken blue veins, 
 brushed back her short crisp curls from transparent temples, 
 then drew her head convulsively to hte heart. 
 
 " My poor Gabrielle ! " was all he said. How could he stir 
 the secure calm of her heart ? For in that moment, like a light- 
 ning flash it had come upon him that, so surely as the damask 
 blaze of Consumption was on her cheek, and its light in her eye, 
 she was doomed ! Was it a wild thrill which swept through his 
 heart then, saying, " One day I shall be free ? " No, no ! Only 
 the bitterest sorrow ; for, as he drew her head closer and bent 
 his lips to her moistened forehead, hearing her whisper " Mon 
 ami, I am very happy now ! " only one prayer hovered on his 
 lips " Father^ spare her ! "
 
 PEACE:- OR THE STOLEN WILL.* 255 
 
 And that long, winter how had it passed to one whom we 
 left with her proud suffering heart Orah Rowland ? Even as 
 months nay, years have passed for others who, like her, 
 have suffered, in struggles, unceasing struggles, not to forget, 
 but to conquer! 
 
 In after life, the memory of that winter was very grateful to 
 her. For she did not sit down, idly moaning and hugging her 
 disappointment to her heart but, by vigorous, healthy action, 
 strove to dispel it. 
 
 " God has given me wealth," she said to herself, " and there 
 are hundreds in the shadow of my father's mansion, unhappy, 
 poor, and suffering ! " and so she carried forth consolation. 
 
 Into the crowded, stifling dens of the great city she found her 
 way, banishing Want and hollow-eyed Hunger laying her 
 white hands on the brow of the suffering, and putting the cooling 
 draught to fever-stricken lips leading innocent little children 
 from the homes of the wretched poor pointing repentant 
 Magdalens to One who said of such, " Neither do I condemn 
 thee ! Go and sin no more ! " 
 
 There .was little excitement about the life she led then, but 
 toil incessant toil. She allowed herself no time for weaken- 
 ing reveries or fashionable complaint of ennui or blues. 
 
 The world of Fashion looked on in wonder. Some sneeringty 
 voted Miss Rowland as " turning Methodist," but, walking 
 her own path, she gave no heed to wonder or sneer. 
 
 " Verily, I believe the girl is bewitched ! Why, if she had not 
 a cent in the world, she could not toil harder what with her 
 charity schools, and making Up garments for beggars, and her 
 thousand and one ways of employing herself I expect every 
 day to find my library converted into a hospital ward or nur- 
 sery, and little foundling orphans playing hide and seek among 
 my largest editions of Blackstone, or pelting one another in their
 
 25G . PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 games with my briefs. Louis, we must get her a husband who'll 
 reclaim her from this erratic life ! " and old Judge Rowland 
 rubbed his hands in high glee, nodding playfully toward Orah 
 one day at dinner. But Louis only smiled quietly. 
 
 And so it was a twofold life that she led her physical na- 
 ture demanding incessant action as the outlet of strong feelings, 
 and her heart gradually working out its own cure ; and thus she 
 wrought on, and the impulsive, original elements of her charac- 
 ter settled back into quiet, the waves closed over the spot where 
 her barque of love had gone down, and out of her great struggle 
 came peace for Orah Howland. 
 
 To the gambler merchant in the days at his counting-room, or 
 the nights in his secluded haunts, that winter had been a level 
 lapse of time, stirred only by some occasional depression of fear 
 when he lost, or some swell of exultation when the turn of For- 
 tune's wheel brought him the golden winnings that served to 
 hold him above ruin. 
 
 And, to the poor inmate of the mad-house, how had, those 
 months fled? Alas, despite the hopes of physicians, no gleam 
 of returning Reason had yet lighted the deep midnight of her 
 brain ! Not an emotion stirred the stagnant, passionless calm 
 of her existence. Neither Hope, Fear, Love or Hate, went 
 groping through her mind's thick 'darkness. Life was a dull, 
 dead blank to Julie Revere. 
 
 But to other characters connected with our tale, time had not 
 elapsed unimproved. Florence Delano had been busy at the 
 task she had set herself bringing every energy of her mind to 
 bear on the one purpose of winning Lucien Palfrey. No arti- 
 fice was unused. She denied herself balls, parties, and gayeties 
 for which she pined fondled the little Cora wore the colors
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 257 
 
 he loved best, read the books he preferred, and sung his favorite 
 songs yielded her opinions to his deferentially and sweetly 
 and when they went abroad occasionally to Concert or Opefia, 
 leaned confidingly upon his arm, called him " Cousin Lucien " 
 in the most musical of voices in short, strove unceasingly to 
 fascinate him into becoming what, as yet, he was not, though 
 half the circle in which they moved had long ago voted him as 
 such her affiancee. 
 
 And so the delighted Mrs. Delano came to regard the thing 
 as settled ;-and "when you are Lucien's wife" was uttered often 
 at her daughter's toilet, and duly reported by the abigail ; and 
 chambermaid, cook, and porter, talked it over in the kitchen, 
 until, lastly, it reached the ears of old nurse Allen. 
 
 " Only to think of such a thing ! " exclaimed the old lady, 
 walking into the school-room one evening and sitting down be- 
 side Peace, for whom, latterly, she had conceived a strong liking 
 " Only to think of it, Miss Peace ! " and her very cap strings 
 quivered with indignation," here's Mr. Lucien him that I 
 rocked to sleep when he was a little baby in my arms agoin' 
 to up and marry that proud, flirtin' Miss Florence ! And she's 
 been playin' saint and angel all winter, a purpose to get him 
 a wheedlin' and fondlin' round little Cora enough* to make a 
 body sick, and stayin' at home from all the parties to read to 
 him and sich like, jest to blind his eyes, because she knows h& 
 don't like gadabout women. Dear knows he suffered enough 
 with Miss Jenny, without gettui' another just like her, only 
 wuss ; though I do suppose he loved -her at any rate, he 
 took on terribly when she died." 
 
 " Was little Cora's mother very young, and did she die sud- 
 denly ? " asked Peace with interest. , 
 
 " La, child don't you know ? But of course you don't, 
 though, 'cause Mr. Lucien never wanted the thing talked about 
 
 22*
 
 258 PEACE: OR 'THE STOLEN \VJLL. 
 
 much, and Mis. Delano ain't the woman that would be likely to 
 speak of it. You see, dear " and she drew her chair closer 
 ad laid her wrinkled hand on the young girl's. " It's my 
 'pinion that Mr. Lucien never took much comfort with his wife. 
 I always said these sudden love-matches never turned out well ; 
 and he fell in love with Miss Jenny at first sight she was 
 visitin' at old General Richmond's at Springdale and before a 
 month, they were married. Well, the new wife was handsome 
 as a picter, with eyes and hair black as a sloe, but she had a 
 dreadful temper, as Mr. Lucien soon found out. After a while, 
 she wouldn't stay out there at the old Hall, though he'd had lots 
 of workmen there, a paintin' and alterin', and bought new fur- 
 niture, and fixed it up nice enough for a queen but nothin' 
 would do but she must have her house in town ; and so Mr. Lu- 
 cien had to give in, and leave all his patients and poor people, 
 and we all he and Miss Jenny, baby and I, and lots of servants 
 came here to York, to the nicest house love and money would 
 buy. Then there were high doings lots of parties, and theatre- 
 goings, and gay times and Miss Jenny had it all her own way, 
 sometimes draggin' her husband round after her, but oftener 
 goin' with gay women like herself. One night, when Cora was 
 most a year old, she wanted to go to hear a great Italian singer, 
 or somethin', at the theatre, but Mr. Lucien had jest got back 
 from buryin' an uncle he loved like an own father, and didn't 
 think it jest right to go ; but Miss Jenny, she'd had an invitation 
 from some gay man or dther, and set up her high temper, and 
 go she would. I s'pose they'd had high words for Mr. Lucien 
 shut himself up in his library and when the carriage drove up, 
 she jest went off without him, all dressed in her satins and jew- 
 els. I remember, she come into the nursery where I was rock- 
 in' little Cora, and said with a gay laugh, standin' before the 
 mirror, 'Well, Aunty Alien; don't I look well to-night?' I
 
 PEACE : OK THE STOLEN WILL. 259 
 
 s'pose I was wicked then but I couldn't help wishin', when I 
 heard her laughm' and talkin' so happy like to the gentleman 
 that helped her into the carriage I couldn't help wishin' that 
 Mr. Lucien had never laid eyes on her. But, poor creetur ! 
 when I saw her next, I was sorry enough for my harsh thoughts. 
 When, a few hours later, they brought her home Oh, that was 
 dreadful ! " and the old lady shuddered. 
 
 " What was it ? Was she dead ? " asked Peace, quite pale. 
 
 " No, dear, but the same as dead dyin'" replied the old 
 nurse in lower tones. " You see, somehow, there was a great 
 fire broke out in the theatre, and everybody pushed for the 
 doors, great strong men never carin' who got knocked down 
 and trampled on ; and though they said the gentleman she was* 
 with tried his best to save Miss Jenny and hold her back, 
 she jest got pushed amongst the thickest and they brought 
 her home almost killed, white as death, and all scarred and 
 bruised " 
 
 " Dreadful ! " shuddered Peace, covering her eyes with her 
 hand to shut out the terrible vision the old lady's recital had 
 conjured up. 
 
 " Yes, dear, so it was ! It seemed as if Mr. Lucien would go 
 crazy the whole house was raised, but he wouldn't let any- 
 body in her room except the doctor and me ; and all the three 
 days she lived, he shut himself up there, neither eatin' or 
 sleepin', and kept sayin' over as he laid his head on her pillow, 
 ' It is a judgment ! It is a judgment ! ' I s'pose he meant some- 
 thin' about their quarrel, for Miss Jenny would answer, 'No, 
 no ! don't think so, Lucien. I brought it upon myself. I was 
 sorry I went, before I'd been there ten minutes ! ' Well, dear, 
 the last thing she ever said, ajfter . kissing her baby and husband, 
 was to beg his forgiveness ; and so, meek and humble like, with 
 her head in his arms, she died. And then, after the funeral they
 
 260 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 had carried her out to Springdale to bury her he shut him- 
 self up for weeks in his library ; till, all of a sudden, he sent off 
 everybody but the housekeeper and her husband, shut up the 
 old Hall except their rooms, sold his house in town, sent little 
 Cora and me to Miss Jenny's sister, Mis. Livingston, where we 
 staid till she shut up her house to go South last fall, when we 
 come here and, after bidding us all good bye, went off to 
 furrin parts. Dear knows, that when he come back from his 
 long journey, nobody was gladder to see him than I and 
 nobody'd rejoice more to see him married again to some good, 
 smart, amiable girl, who'd make him jest such a wife as he's 
 worthy of and ought to have ; but it's too much, to think he's so 
 blinded as to fall into that artful Miss Florence's trap ! " and 
 her trembling hand tightened over Peace's. 
 
 " What kind of a wife'll she make him, I want to know ? 
 that cold-hearted, proud Miss, with her fine dresses, and rings 
 and fans, and pink cheeks and doll-baby face ! What kind of a 
 mother-in-law to little Cora ? a lollin' in her arm-chairs all the 
 mornin' over her novels, or waltzing and poking at balls and 
 parties, or showing herself off at the theatre ! for she's jest 
 one of that sort, and Mr. Lucien'll find his eyes opened purty 
 sudden after the knot's tied. I'd a good deal rather he'd staid 
 in furrin parts till he's gray, than come home to marry her 
 that I would ! Poor Cora ! precious little she shall have to 
 do with my darling, while old Nurse Allen lives that's all ! " 
 and the indignant old lady rose and went out into the 
 nursery to watch the peaceful slumbers of her beloved charge. 
 
 " And this is the end of it all ! to come here evening after 
 evening declaim against fashion and frivolity, talk earnestly 
 about domestic peace, sing songs and read poems in his beautiful 
 voice, reveal the depths of his strong rich heart, and then go
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 261 
 
 away and take to his heart such a woman as Florence Delano ! 
 It is the way with them all ! Talk as they may about quiet 
 homes, and congenial hearts, and an appreciation of domestic 
 happiness, they straightway forget it all, and pay their court to 
 beauty, position, wealth ! ' Oh, Frailty, thy name is man ! ' " 
 and with a quick scornful gesture, Peace went to the window, 
 and, flinging up the sash, leaned out into the night. 
 
 Gradually a softer expression overspread her features ; and 
 sinking wearily down into a chair, she leaned her head upon the 
 window-sill. 
 
 " Why should I care ? what is he to me ? " she murmured 
 huskily. " I will not wrong him he is good and noble and 
 he cannot help it, if he loves her. It was kindness only pity 
 for my loneliness that sent him here. He never bestowed a 
 thought upon me, save of friendship. It is hard ! hard ! But I 
 could bear it, did I know she returned a tithe of the tenderness 
 he must lavish on the woman he again calls wife ! But it can- 
 not be, that she will go to his arms with a falsehood on her lips ! 
 It cannot be, that, sitting by his side, listening to his voice, she 
 will not grow better, nobler ! Oh, Father, grant that ! Make 
 her worthy of him and give me strength ! " 
 
 Long after, while the sighing winds of a May night dashed 
 up the leafy spray of an acacia tree wet with dew against her 
 bowed forehead, and the holy stars leaned down from heaven 
 with tender pitying eyes, Peace Wedgewood stood beside that 
 window with pale and tear-stained face, resolutely looking into 
 her darkened future with holy trust. For she had cast her bur- 
 den on the Comforter. The faith learned beside Uncle Reu- 
 ben's knee and at Aunt Patience's death-bed did not fail her 
 then!
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Why did she love him ? Curious fool ! be still 
 Is human love the growth of human will ? 
 To her he might be gentleness. _ * 
 
 BYRON'S LARA. 
 
 A LITTLE quaint, vine-embowered cottage, nestling in a hill- 
 side hollow under the shadow of overhanging cliffs, like a nest 
 beneath the eaves ! 
 
 It must have been an artist's eye that selected" that nook for a 
 home where all the long summer day the heaviest shadows 
 hung and the most exquisite bits of blue broke through the 
 rifted clouds where the plumy pines and dusky firs tossed up 
 their arms, and the mountain ash and silver larch whispered 
 together where sparkling brooks broke in a thousand shivering 
 diamonds over the rocks, then, gathering into their quieter beds, 
 leaped gladly down the hillsides, wound through the valley 
 below among low grassy meadows, until they poured their sil- 
 very tribute into the bosom of the blue Hudson. 
 
 And it was an artist's hand, too, beautifying everything with 
 its touch, that trained the vines about the casement and the twin- 
 ing Indian Creeper about the western Gothic window, laid out 
 the tiny flower-bed in a small plateau before the cottage, or 
 adorned the interior of that quiet retreat disposed the snowy 
 lace-curtains over the windows, hung the pictures on the walls, 
 and heaped brightest flowers into the delicate porcelain vases. 
 
 Leafy Earle, whose days were spent alone with her beautiful 
 Art in sketching the light and shade where they blended in 
 some deep ravine among the hills, some bright bit of waterfall, 
 
 (262)
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 263 
 
 or tiny lake set in its frame of dark evergreen and mirroring 
 the cloud-rifted sky, or the white-winged shallops lying motion- 
 less for hours on the distant blue river whose evenings fled 
 like dreams, sitting beside one who listened to her songs while 
 her white fingers swept the strings of her guitar, and the moon- 
 light, sifting down through the larches at the cottage door, soft- 
 ened into beauty every feature of the dark face that bent above 
 her sweet Leafy Earle, what good angel guided thee to such 
 a fairy home ? 
 
 Ala?, not so ! for, in the tall dark man who every twilight 
 guided his horse up the mountain path, and, tethering him to the 
 young saplings at the little wicket-gate,- sat evening after evening 
 at her side watching the play of the artist-girl's speaking fea- 
 tures with a devouring, passionate gaze in that . man, we 
 recognize one who, wherever his footsteps had hitherto trod, had 
 left but blight and desolation. 
 
 Strange that the tender vine should weave its drapery about 
 the rough, blackened, distorted tree that beautiful flowers 
 should unfold their petals on the crater's brink, where, beneath, 
 the volcano's heart lies bound in its nightmare sleep that 
 whitest lilies yield their fragrance amid bogs and marshes where 
 stagnates foulest uncleanness ! 
 
 But so it has been ever and so with human hearts. 
 
 Who can explain that strange magnetism which often attracts 
 those whose characters, dispositions, pursuits, loves, hopes and 
 joys, are antipodean, into that conjunction which merges both 
 hearts into one ? which brings lovely women, with aspirations 
 after the good and pure and beautiful, to immolate their rich 
 natures on an altar whose presiding priest is but little removed 
 from the demons that sit in the shadow of darkness ? 
 
 High, moral natures do not yield easily. She who acknowl- 
 edges the law of her Maker as the standard whereby to regulate
 
 264 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. . 
 
 her passions, struggles long, and, though the battle go hard, 
 conquers casting out this blind idol-worship ; but yielding, 
 trusting little Leafy Earle though her every thought was an 
 inspiration of purity alas ! the weak, clinging girl had no talis- 
 man beyond her own pure heart-impulses, to guard and keep 
 her from evil. 
 
 What wonder, then, that, when the kind friend who had so 
 generously purchased her paintings in the picture-gallery sought 
 her soon under the pretext of ordering others when he kindly 
 took away the rapid creations of her brush and pencil, and 
 brought her their proceeds which purchased her invalid mother 
 many luxuries what wonder that, from gratitude sprang re- 
 gard, and from regard love, and from love the intensest adora- 
 tion ? 
 
 And when the fond widowed mother saw how this new feeling 
 was swaying her child's life, lending her power and vigor to 
 excel in her Art, causing her hand to work rapidly with brush 
 and crayon her lips overflowing with heart-songs, and her 
 hazel eyes growing dreamier and tenderer, because of the great 
 joy flooding her whole being why should she bid her put this 
 new happiness beyond her grasp ? 
 
 Besides, Mrs. Earle had never known much of the great 
 world its wickedness or its sin. She, whose tide of life had 
 always flown peacefully in its calm channel,, could know nothing 
 of tho^e wild outer seas whose waves dash high, bearing on their 
 turbid bosoms pale broken flowers ruined hopes, desolated 
 hearts, lost souls, or of that seething, foaming, boiling Mael- 
 strom Passion wherein white-winged pleasure-barques, cir- 
 cling nearer and nearer on the dancing waters, are engulfed 
 forever ! 
 
 Such tales of shipwrecked lives, of course had sometimes been 
 repeated to her ; Leafy had heard such, and shuddered ; but no
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 265 
 
 poor Magdalens had crossed the fair girl's path and how could 
 she become like them ? Impossible ! 
 
 One day in April, when the sun stood warm and bright above 
 the great city, and already the artist-girl longed for the birds and 
 flowers in Nature's quiet domains, Hugh Golding entered her 
 little studio. 
 
 " My child," he said with a fascinating smile, " yesterday, 
 rambling among some rugged bills that form a lower chain of 
 the Highlands, I came across a charming untenanted cottage 
 half-hidden among trees. ' It is the very spot for my artist-girl's 
 home ! ' I involuntarily said. There are light and shade, birds 
 and flowers, and a Gothic window facing the west where you 
 can sit at your easel and watch the sun go down. What says my 
 pet ? Her mother shall be queen of housewives in that charm- 
 ing nook, getting well and strong in the invigorating mountain 
 air, and I will go there often and bring her pictures into town 
 for sale, and she shall lead a happy, careless life. Leafy, will 
 you go to this hill-fide home, for the summer ? " 
 
 The girl blushed. The thought .of receiving a home at his 
 hands, though she felt sure of his love, was instinctively revolting 
 to her delicacy. 
 
 " Oh Mr. Golding, I thank you but, indeed, I ought not to 
 go there ! " she replied hesitatingly. 
 
 " Ought not ? Leafy, dear Leafy, you refuse me, then ! I 
 had hoped that one day the right to protect you would have 
 been mine, but now " and he turned away, apparently with 
 wounded feelings. 
 
 It was enough. " The right to protect her " did not that 
 mean to become his wife ? And now she had grieved him her 
 best friend ! It was very ungrateful of her ! And going up 
 close to his side, she placed her little white hand in his, and 
 
 said, 
 
 28
 
 266 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " Forgive me, Mr. Golding ! " 
 
 ' "And you will go to this highland cottage ? " he asked, bend- 
 ing down till his dark flashing eyes had called up waves of crim- 
 son to her transparent cheek. 
 
 " Yes, yes my mother and I ! " she murmured, shrinking 
 away from the arm that would have encircled her. 
 
 Ah ! the raven was poising his wings for his devouring swoop. 
 Heaven save thee, innocent dove ! 
 
 It was a June night, and intensely warm even on those 
 breezy upland heights whither Leafy Earle had made her 
 home. 
 
 The moon was near its full, and stood high and fair above the 
 hills. Every cliff and tree was lighted up with wonderful 
 fidelity, casting long shadows down the slope ; stretching away 
 to the northeast, a black pine forest lay sombre and heavy against 
 the evening sky ; southward and westward flowed the Hudson, 
 describing a sudden bend at the foot of the hill ; while noisy 
 little brooklets leaping down their rocky heights and winding 
 through the valley glittered like so many threads of steel bind- 
 ing the landscape. 
 
 " The Nest," as Leafy had poetically and appropriately termed 
 the cottage, stood in a little hollow on the southern hill-slope. 
 
 The cottage itself was of stone, old, and quaint, and falling 
 into decay, but so sheltered that storms and winds had passed it 
 lightly; within, the tasteful, even elegant articles of furniture 
 which Golding had caused to be conveyed there, gave it a pleas- 
 ant, cheery look and without, the luxuriant vines so draped 
 the casements and faded gray walls that the ravages of tune 
 were scarcely perceptible. 
 
 Under the southern and western windows where the sun lay 
 nearly all day white roses bloomed in the greatest profusion, arid
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 267 
 
 the glossy-leaved, scarlet blooming Indian Creeper grew thick 
 and luxuriant. At a distance of a few rods from the western 
 Gothic window where Leafy had placed her easel, stood a tall 
 white-wood tree flinging gigantic shadows down the hiU-slope, 
 and close by, on a level spot of grassy ground, bloomed a thicket 
 of wild red roses. Beneath this stately white-wood tree was a 
 rude stone seat, where often at sunset Leafy Earle came to 
 sketch cloud or shadow, valley or river ; and here, on that moon- 
 light June evening, she sat beside Hugh Golding. 
 
 Her head rested against the polished trunk of the tree ; and 
 the moonlight, sifting down through its boughs, bathed her whole 
 person in a flood of quivering light and shade. 
 
 And, as yet, the heart beating beside Hugh Golding's was 
 pure as the sleeping moonlight. Her childlike, trusting inno- 
 cence had been her shield ; and even that bold bad man hesi- 
 tated for -means whereby to undermine it. 
 
 Of neither love or marriage had he ever spoken since the day 
 when she consented to seek this secluded home. Leafy asked 
 no vow. " By and by," she whispered to her heart, " he will 
 ask me to become his child-wjfe. Meantime, he is good and 
 tender, and loves me. I am content to bide my time." 
 
 Oh rare faith, which builds a fair structure on the foundation 
 of a word, a smile, a kiss ! oh rich heart, that loves because it 
 is a necessity of its very being ! oh beautiful trust, which 
 sends out the affections, placing them beyond future recall in the 
 keeping of another ! 
 
 So it has been ever so will it be, on through time that 
 woman's heart is sent forth, like the weary, storm-bound dove, 
 to bring back some green olive-leaf from the surging waters of 
 Life. 
 
 " Leafy, darling ! " 
 
 The young girl started from her resting-place, and all the
 
 268 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 blood of her heart seemed to rush in crimson waves over her 
 face. 
 
 " You are as silent as the canary in yonder cage," said Gold- 
 ing," pointing to the little porch. " Does my pet bird rebel at 
 the solitude of her Nest? Is the loneliness of this mountain 
 region irksome to you, my child ? " and he smoothed out her 
 floating hair with a caressing touch. 
 
 "Irksome! Oh, no indeed anything but that!" washer 
 enthusiastic reply. 
 
 " I have no lonely hours here. It was in the great busy city, 
 among the thousands who care only for greed and gain it was 
 there, I was alone ! But here where the birds sing and the 
 flowers grow where the brooks laugh all day and whisper all 
 night where the sun goes down his pathway of gold and fire, 
 and the moon sails her white boat through a sea of blue 
 where I hear the mighty anthems of the pine woods, and the 
 sweet call of the west wind Oh, how could I be lonely here ! 
 I could never feel alone with dear mother Nature ! Mr. Gold- 
 ing," and her dreamy eyes kindled like stars, "I don't 
 think I could ever make another picture in the city. I might 
 copy but I could never create. I wonder how artists work 
 there ! It always cramped stifled me ! and I know the rea- 
 son now ; I never half lived there ! Blue skies and sunshine, 
 rock and water, birds and flowers, are necessary to the artist's 
 perfect . life. I cannot help working here, with the light and 
 shade playing over these hills, and the clouds for my neighbors 
 so far from the eager, busy world so near heaven ! Oh, I 
 tliank you for bringing me here ! " and she drew in her breath 
 with a sudden inspiration. 
 
 "Enthusiast!" and Golding imprisoned her hands ; then 
 he said in a low clear voice, " But, my pet, is it wholly this 
 keen enjoyment of Nature's beautiful things, I wonder, that
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 269 
 
 makes your* heart thrill with such fulness of life?" and he 
 drew her face forward into the full moonlight. 
 
 Leafy blushed. But half-comprehending him at first, she did 
 not reply ; then in an instant it flashed over her. 
 
 When did woman ever- fill her heart with the love of birds 
 and flowers, and Nature's inanimate things, or even that noble 
 Art whose beauties dowered that young girl's life and rest 
 content ? Nor did Leafy Earle. 
 
 "Leafy," and she was drawn close to a beating heart 
 u there is another love, than that of Nature or your Art, which 
 harf crept into your heart ! and to-night will you not con- 
 fess it ? Leafy, darling, tell me that you love me ? " 
 
 The girl trembled, and covered her face with her hands. She 
 could not speak for the great happiness at its spring-tide in her 
 heart ; she could not lift her eyes. 
 
 " Leafy little one ! " and his voice softened to that inde- 
 scribably fascinating tone he knew so well how to assume 
 " then, since you will not answer me, may I not regard as a 
 faithful transcript of your feelings these " Dreamings," which a 
 blessed chance wind blew to my hand to-night from your studio 
 table ? " _and leaning forward into the full moonlight, he read 
 from a delicately perfumed sheet a tender heart-poem : 
 
 All the morning melts away, 
 Gliding onward into noon, 
 
 Trembling, dies the fainting day, 
 Still I dream the hours away 
 Underneath the skies of June. 
 
 \ . 
 
 Pencil, easel, lie forgot ! 
 
 All uncaught, stray visions wild 
 Idly flit my brain athwart ; 
 I am wrapped in happier thought 
 
 I am dreaming like a child ! 
 23*
 
 270 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 What, to me, the voice of Fame ? 
 
 I have won a dearer boon ! 
 Tender lips speak o'er my name 
 Tender eyes burn brighter flame 
 
 Love hath waked my heart o bloom ! 
 
 Care I not for others' praise ! 
 
 Care I not for others' sighs ! 
 I am well content to gaze 
 Seeking only for my praise 
 
 In the clear wells of his eyes. 
 
 So the mornings melt away, 
 
 Gliding onward into noon : 
 So still dieth day by day, 
 While I dream the hours away 
 
 Underneath the skies of June. 
 
 With a sudden gush of tears, when Golding turned from the 
 written sheet with eager eyes, Leafy Earle buried her face in 
 her hands.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Or perchance the continual dropping of the venomed words of spite, 
 Insult and injury and scorn, have galled and pierced his heart. 
 
 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 IT was a bright June sunset at the Ridge Farm. The pop- 
 lars in front of the old house were all ablaze their long arms 
 casting flickering shadows athwart the brown, weather-beaten 
 roof and the slanting sunbeam flinging a shower of reddened 
 light against the little-paned windows. 
 
 Fields of wheat and rye waved in the soft west wind ; the 
 glossy green maize had thrust its stalks upward through the 
 rocky soil ; tall grass surged to and fro in billowy richness ; and 
 patches of red and white clover grew rank and thick in the 
 fields. 
 
 Along the road leading down to Red Brook, two rows of old 
 gnarled willows, with drooping, melancholy looking foliage, 
 guarded the way, like sad-hearted, weary old men ; on the up- 
 lands surrounding the village, groves of beech and maple were 
 luxuriant in their glossy greenery ; and on Wood Hill, the dark 
 pines and firs kept guard over the little graveyard where quiet 
 sleepers rested. 
 
 The old farm-house at-the Ridge was little changed since it 
 had passed into the hands of Hannah Ward. The old well- 
 sweep still swung aloft its long arm with the wooden bucket 
 dangling from the end tufts of white clover, mustard, and 
 plantain-leaves, grew thick about the well-curb, almost over- 
 topping the long watering-trough sunken in the grass. 
 
 (271)
 
 272 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN \VILL. 
 
 But there seemed a change about the premises. Not .that 
 anything had fallen into decay ; on the contrary, the domains 
 looked neat and thrifty, the out-buildings were well kept and 
 tidy, the crops well up, and \veeds a tabooed product of the soil. 
 But it was that very air of rigid thrift, cultivation, and utilita- 
 rianism, that impressed one painfully. 
 
 Through all Meadow Brook it had become a common saying, 
 " As smart a manager as Hannah Ward ; " and under her 
 " smart " economy not an inch of arable land ran to waste. 
 Even the green before the farm-house door had been ploughed 
 up and converted into a vegetable garden, and the adjoining 
 flower-beds had fallen a prey to the same Vandalism. There 
 grew cabbages, parsnips, blood beets, asparagus, .climbing beans, 
 and early peas, for the market replacing the smoothly kept 
 turf and flowers that had once been Aunt Patience's pride and 
 care. 
 
 Old maids' pinks and 'coquettish jonquils no longer nodded 
 defiance, or got up flirtations with jaunty bachelor's buttons ; 
 delicate lilies of the valley, four-o'clocks, and mignonette, no 
 longer bloomed under the valiant protection of royal prince's 
 feather ; the morning-glories had died out along the garden- 
 wall ; and the creeping jenny with its spiral curling tendrils, 
 and trumpet honey-suckle, had been torn away from the west 
 room windows, because the spinster, in whose hard gray eyes 
 there was no beauty in vines or blossoms, declared, in a jjn<,-ion 
 of neatness and thrift, that " they rotted the clapboards and 
 brought bugs into the house." 
 
 "Within the farm-house prevailed a rigid parsimony, amount- 
 ing to niggardness, even. The passion for Gain which had 
 prompted the avaricious woman to wrong the lonely Peace, had 
 recoiled upon herself. By the glitter of her little gray eyes, and 
 the clutch of her horny hand as she converted the products of the
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN. WILL. 273 
 
 dairy, and yarn spun from lambs' wool, into money, eagerly add- 
 ing each, newly-earned dollar to its fellows by the increasing 
 scantiness of their daily board, and the pinched, shrunken form 
 of the bound boy, Hannah Ward was fast becoming that most 
 miserable, contemptible being on earth a miser. 
 
 Poor Chip Weed ! The veriest slave that ever handled a hoe 
 or guided the plough i the soil of the Granite State over- 
 worked, neglected, ill-fed his had been a hard lot since Reu- 
 ben died. Not a neighbor but said so. 
 
 " She tasks the lad almost to death on that great farm," said 
 Farmer Sanders. " If she only done something that I could get 
 hold of, I'd complain to the overseers of the poor over to 
 Elton to-morrow but she's too cunning for that ! There was 
 Peace, turned out of house and home, as a body might say. In 
 my opinion, Hannah Ward never treated her jest right; and 
 now she's got the property, and slaves poor Chip beyond his 
 strength." 
 
 This was too true. Since Reuben's death, the life of the poor 
 witless bound boy had been a constant series of hardships ; but 
 it was not solely the unresting 'toil which wore upon him, but 
 the absence of all kindliness, or care ; and the gruff orders and 
 rebukes of the exacting spinster kept him in a state of nervous 
 dread and terror. Starting, affrighted, at his task-mistress's shrill 
 call going about his toil, in scant tattered garments, and with 
 pinched, elfish features he looked the picture of a cowed, 
 neglected, half-starved lad. 
 
 Hannah Ward was a work-house surveyor on a small scale 
 a miserly, grinding woman, who did not hesitate to stint the 
 hard-working, hungry bound boy, when he sometimes ventured 
 to put forth the cry of Oliver Twist, for " more ! " 
 
 A year and a half had gone by since Reuben Wedgewood's 
 death. Two long winters, tedious and dreary to Chip, when
 
 274 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 after a day's chopping in the woods he crouched down by the 
 evening fire-light in the chimney-corner carding wool for the 
 spinning, or crept away to his garret-bed two springs, with 
 their ploughing and planting and hoeing and now the second 
 summer had come round. 
 
 At the sunset of the day when our chapter commences, the 
 lad had stretched his tall gaunt form u^der the stone-wall by the 
 roadside, glad to steal a little rest after a hard day's hoeing in 
 the corn-field. The milking was over the last foaming pail 
 carried up to the house and the cows stood lazily chewing 
 their cuds in the -barn-yard. , 
 
 An old gray cat, tempted doubtless by the twitter of the home- 
 returning swallows, came out and danced a minuet on the door- 
 step, wishfully eyeing the nests beneath the eaves ; old Bruno, 
 following the frisky example of his feline neighbor, seemed to 
 have forgotten his rheumatic old age, and whirled about in a 
 most fantastic and doggedly persevering manner, after his tail 
 then relapsed into his wonted gravity, and lay down close be- 
 side* Chip, rubbing his smooth nose into the lad's tanned, hard- 
 ened hand. 
 
 As Chip lay there, he heard the steady tramp, tramp, of Han- 
 nah's thick shoes through the long kitchen and up and down the 
 cellar-dairy stairs, mingled" with the clatter of milk-pans and 
 pails. Presently she made her appearance in tHe old shed-door, 
 in a short gown, checked linsey-woolsey apron, sleeves tucked 
 up above her sharp, skinny elbows, and her coarse, wiry black 
 hair streaked with gray, fastened by a high horn comb. 
 
 " Chip, you vagabond ! be in here in jest three minutes, I tell 
 you ! Here's all the hogs to feed, and the cheeses to turn in the 
 press - and you lazin' there ! " she screamed shrilly, placing 
 the milk-pan she held down by the door-step on a smooth strip 
 of board to " scald " in the next morning's sun.
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 275 
 
 The bound boy rose wearily from his reclining posture, pick- 
 ing up his tattered, sunburnt straw hat. 
 
 Just then little Tommy Sanders, a bright lad of ten, came 
 whistling along the road on his return from " the village." 
 
 " Tired aren't you, Chip ? " he asked compassionately, paus- 
 ing to lean over the stone wall. 
 
 " Yes," answered Chip with a sullen look. " It's dig, dig all 
 the time, jest like a nigger. It's ' Chip, here ! ' and ' Chip, do 
 this ! ' and ' Chip, do that, you vagabond ! ' No rest or comfort 
 since she come the old dragon ! I jest won't hurry in one 
 step" and he settled himself resolutely against a post at " the 
 bars " close by. " The darned old hogs ! no use feedin' on 
 'em not a mite ! they don't grow an atom jest stopped a 
 growih' out o' spite, I reckon to bother her ! Nothin' wouldn't 
 grow, when she's round lookin' at 'em. I hate her ! " he cried 
 energetically. 
 
 " So does everybody, Chip ! " said little Tommy sympathizingly, 
 picking out a small smooth stone from the wall and hurling it 
 with unerring precision at a turkey strutting past the shed-door. 
 " There, I wish that had hit her old gobbler don't you ? 
 Father, and Mr. Green, and Capt. Andrews were talking about 
 her t'other day in Deacon Hawkins's store and they said she 
 treated you shamefully, and hadn't no business here, either. I 
 heard the deacon whisper, says he, kind o' low, ' Depend upon't, 
 she never conic by that property honestly for I remember old 
 Squire Barton told me one day, in this very store not six months 
 before he died, says he, " I've jest been making Farmer Wedge- 
 wood's will and depend upon't, his farm won't go to any of 
 his blood relations ! " Yes, Chip, that's what I heard" con- 
 tinued the boy breathlessly, lowering his voice to a whisper 
 " and then Deacon Hawkins told how, when Uncle Reuben 
 died, the will couldn't be found and Peace was turned put of
 
 276 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 house and home. Now you see, Chip," whispered Tommy, " I'll 
 bet anything, that Hannah knew where that will was, and went 
 and stole it ! By George ! She knows how all our speckled 
 hens lay in her barn, and she gets their eggs and sells 'em. Aint 
 that stealing ? and if she'd steal eggs, wouldn't she a got the 
 will if she could a found it ? " and this -argument, which the 
 boy seemed to regard as a poser, was clinched by another mis- 
 sile at the before-mentioned venerable turkey. 
 
 Chip's sullen face relaxed when Peace's name had been 
 spoken ; and as the boy went on, his little faded blue eyes 
 brightened. 
 
 " What is a will, Tommy ? " he asked sharply. 
 
 " Why don't you know, Chip ? " and the boy looked at his 
 " lacking " neighbor with an air of immense superiority. *' Why 
 it's a paper that folks get a lawyer to write for 'em, to tell who's 
 going to have their property and things after they're dead. Now 
 you see, if I'd a died with them plaguy measles I had last 
 winter, I should a had my will made, and left Ned my yoke of 
 steers, Frank my sled, and some o' the rest o' the boys my new 
 boots, and kite, and lots o' things but I got well. But then 
 they said Uncle Reuben made his will, and give away everything 
 to Peace. She's gone away off to New York to be a great 
 teacher now." 
 
 " New York," said Chip, after a few moments -r- " ain't that a 
 good many hundred miles off, Tommy ? " and a singular look of 
 cunning crept into his eyes. 
 
 " It's over four hu*dred, I heard the master say so at 
 school yesterday. But you ain't going to run away and find 
 Peace, and tell her about old Hannah are you, Chip ? " 
 
 " He, he, he ! Guess not ! Better find the Witt first hadn't 
 I, Tommy ? he, he, he ! " and again that look of cunning stole 
 over his face.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 277 
 
 " By George ! / wouldn't stay here, Til bet ! " said Tommy 
 stoutly. "-Tell you what I'd do," and he whispered confiden- 
 tially, his bright eyes sparkling " I'd jest run away in the 
 night. Catch me staying with the ugly old thing ! I'll bet I 
 wouldn't ! But look here, Chip don't you whisper what I 
 said about the will 'cause father'd lick me like sixty if he 
 knew I told of it. He tells mother 'Little pitchers have long 
 ears ' s'pose he means me. But you won't tell will you, 
 Chip ? " 
 
 " No ! " was the satisfactory answer. 
 
 " There she is now ! Run, Chip, or she'll be mad as a 
 hornet ! " and little Tommy hurried down the road with a part- 
 ing stone flung at the turkey. 
 
 " Here, you Chip ! didn't I call you half an hour ago ? " 
 screamed Hannah. " For my part, I wish neighbors would keep 
 their young ones at borne and not always have 'em hanging 
 round other folks' houses. I should like to catch that saucy Tom 
 Sanders and give him a right smart shaking ! Step yourself, 
 Chip, and do up the chores afore bed-time and see that 
 you're up bright and airly for the churning ! " 
 
 And while little happy, care-free Tommy Sanders sauntered 
 down the road, whistling blithely and making tracks with his 
 bare feet in the warm sandy highway, then frolicked gayly with 
 his brothers in the yard before his father's house, the spiritless 
 bound boy with a new, strange resolve in his brain per- 
 formed his evening tasks, then crept up to his garret bed. 
 
 24
 
 CHAPTER XXXx. 
 
 " This is my home again ! Once more I hail 
 The dear old gables and the creaking vanes. 
 It stands all flecked with shadows in the moon, 
 Patient, and white, and woeful. 'Tis so still, 
 It seems to brood upon its youthful years, 
 When children sported on its ringing floors, 
 And music trembled through its happy rooms." 
 
 IT was July, and intensely warm. Mrs. Delano's town man- 
 sion was closed the satin brocatelle upholstered furniture in 
 brown Holland covers ; her two " darlings," *the governess, little 
 Cora and Nurse Allen, installed for the sutamer at Lucien Paf- 
 frey's old country house at Springdale ; and the lady herself with 
 Florence, and Palfrey as escort, had sought that resort of the 
 fashionable world Saratoga. 
 
 The tide of gayety, at its flood when, with her stylish equipage 
 an emblazoned carriage, pair of bays, and liveried footman 
 her beautiful daughter, and their elegant cavalier, Mrs. Delano 
 made her appearance ; and the party were duly installed in 
 their sumptuous suite of rooms at 'the ' United States,' the sleek 
 bays in the stables, and the waves of fashionable life rolled on 
 as before their advent. 
 
 It may seem strange to our readers who have obtained 
 glimpses of Lucien Palfrey's character and tastes, that he should 
 so readily become the dupe of an artful designing woman like 
 Florence Delano ; but at this period of his life there was nothing 
 easier. Returning, as he had, from the unsatisfying life of a 
 wanderer, sighing more than ever for the repose of a home and 
 
 (278)
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 279 
 
 some heart whereon he might cast down his burden remem- 
 bering this cousin only as a pretty school-girl who had often 
 visited Jenny in his brief married life, and finding her now 
 transformed into an elegant woman, well fitted to be the nucleus 
 of a swarm of admirers, yet turning from all to devote herself 
 to him paying him a hundred little grateful attentions, seem- 
 ing always so gentle, sweet and womanly, so exactly the coun- 
 terpart of his beau ideal of a true woman what wonder that 
 he fell into the snare ? 
 
 It was a politic move on the part of Mrs. Delano who, from 
 afar off, stood watching her daughter's operations with a keen 
 eye, much as a stout general would have reviewed the tactics of 
 some detachment sent out to surprise the enemy to bring Pal- 
 frey as their escort to Saratoga. 
 
 " Florence, you cannot remain unsought there ; admirers must 
 flock about you ; and Lucien will see that, if he would secure 
 you, it must be done at once. You will return his engaged 
 wife." 
 
 The next day the manoeuvring mamma quietly informed Pal- 
 frey that Florence's health was failing, and the physician advised 
 the mineral springs. Would he forego his dislike of ci'owds and 
 gayeties, and accompany them or was it asking too much ? 
 
 The result has been seen. They went to Saratoga. 
 
 It was a rare old place that country seat at- Springdale. 
 
 The Hall had been built by Palfrey's paternal ancestors, and 
 was full two centuries old a curious mixture of various kinds 
 of architecture both ancient and modern the low sloping gable 
 roofs and little-paned windows betraying its Dutch origin, but 
 new wings, and other improvements made by successive owners, 
 imparting to it quite a modernized air. 
 
 To Peace there was a charm about it. She never wearied
 
 280 PEACE : OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 of stealing at twilight into the long drawing-room with its rich 
 furniture and darkened windows, where no sun-ray ever entered 
 to gild the massive picture-frames or chase lurking shadows from 
 the corners, save once or twice a year, when the old housekeeper, 
 Dame Winslow, threw open the blinds and disturbed the heavy 
 curtain-folds, wiped the dust from the polished mahogany, then 
 closed the apartment to its wonted darkness and stillness. And, 
 creeping into the little boudoir with its hangings of pale green 
 and gold which Lucien Palfrey had fitted up for the use of his 
 beautiful bride standing before a portrait of a brilliant, youth- 
 ful face with crimson lips and bands of raven hair, before which 
 old Nurse Allen one day held up the little Cora, saying, 
 " There, dear, that beautiful lady was your mamma ! " musing 
 over the story the old lady had repeated in the school-room, 
 Peace would softly sigh, and murmur, " Here she li ved and 
 here he was unhappy ! " 
 
 Then there were little chambers with low dormer windows ; 
 old, rambling, shadowy passages and winding stair-cases ; a long 
 hall leading quite through the mansion from front to rear, where 
 all day the wind blew cool ; but she loved best the old house- 
 keeper's room with its wainscoted walls, polished oaken floors, 
 windows facing the west and shaded by tall laburum trees, and 
 spruce boughs and asparagus plumes in the open fire-place 
 for there was a home air about it, bringing to mind the little 
 west room at the Ridge. And afternoons, when the lessons were 
 over and the children played in the garden, and old Nurse Allen 
 sat and croned with the housekeeper about " young Mr. Lucien," 
 sitting there, with the waning sunlight slanting in, listening to 
 the old women's mumbling voices, she would close her eyes and 
 dream of Aunt Patience, and fancy herself a child again. 
 
 Then there were such deep woods close by ; and scarce fifty 
 rods distant, loomed a pine forest heavily against the sky, where
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 281 
 
 all the air was aromatic with the fragrant piney odor, and the 
 paths underneath were soft as velvet to the tread, hollowed with 
 little marshy dells where sprang pale woodland flowers and the 
 fresh, glossy " standing evergreen." 
 
 What a joy it was to the girl born and bred in the cool, still, 
 green country, to sit for hours in the heart of the forest and feel 
 the fresh breathings of Nature, after that wearying, stifling city 
 life ! Despite her loneliness, the memory of her mother's 
 wrongs, her own heritage of shame and mystery, and her later 
 trials. Peace was calmly happy there. 
 
 And yet, it must not be inferred that Peace's life during the 
 past winter had been wholly cheerless. Of her experience as 
 governess, the first day in Mrs. Delano's house was a fair sam- 
 ple. That lady's " darlings * were in no wise calculated to ren- 
 der their teacher's task a peculiarly pleasant one, although she 
 had succeeded, by uniform and gentle firmness, in winning them 
 over to a degree of tractableness. But there were a few pleas- 
 ant things mingled with the bitter, her increasing fondness for 
 the winning Cora, and Palfrey's frequent visits to the school- 
 room. Happily for the governess, neither Mrs. Delano nor her 
 daughter imagined that evenings they supposed devoted to his 
 child in the nursery, were invariably spent in the school-room. 
 And, as Palfrey never encountered her in presence of the fam- 
 ily, and old Nurse Allen wisely kept her own counsel and, 
 latterly, the young man, yielding to the charming toils of his 
 beautiful cousin, gradually came to omit his visits to the school- 
 room, so it happened that Florence Delano* deemed herself 
 secure of her admirer. 
 
 There had, however, been a firm friend to the lonely girl in 
 that great city Orah Rowland. When they parted at school 
 Orah for her year's sojourn in Europe, and Peace for another 
 year's study ere her graduation, their friendship was firmly 
 
 24*
 
 282 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 cemented ; and when, on a bright winter's morning, they met 
 again on the crowded pave of New York's great thoroughfare, 
 the stately city belle bestowed a warm recognition upon the 
 humble governess. A few days afterward found Judge How- 
 land's carriage drawn up at Mrs. Delano's mansion, and its occu- 
 pant inquiring for Miss Wedgewood ; and the fact of her pos- 
 sessing such a friend as the aristocratic Miss Rowland was, of 
 itself, quite sufficient to ensure Peace more cordial treatment at 
 the hands of her gold-loving, station-worshipping employer. So 
 that winter had passed, brightened by the friendship of the noble 
 
 One day, in a longer than her wonted stroll among the hills, 
 Peace gained' a view of the gray stone cottage near the angle of 
 the cliff, and paused to catch the flutter of white drapery under 
 the whitewood tree ere she went back to the Hall. 
 
 " Is it inhabited ? " she asked the old housekeeper on her re- 
 turn. "I mean that little stone cottage away up on yonder 
 mountain." 
 
 "No indeed, it must be going to ruin now," was Dame 
 Winslow's reply. 
 
 " But I thought nay, I am sure I saw a moving form 
 there this morning, and the flutter of a woman's garments. I 
 could not have been mistaken ! " persisted Peace. 
 
 " Well, maybe, child ; but John would have heard at the vil- 
 lage if anybody lived there, I reckon and he never breathed 
 such a thing. Let me see it must be nigh about eighteen 
 year ago " and the old lady put her hands over her eyes, to 
 conjure up old memories "yes, it is eighteen year ago this 
 comin' September I remember my nephew Horace, him that's 
 got to be a minister now, he was about ten year old then well, 
 'twas about that time, that a purty young creetur as you ever sot
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 283 
 
 your eyes on went away from the old stone cottage so sudden- 
 like. She'd lived there three year or upwards but dreadful 
 shy-like never comin' down to the village, nor nobody ever 
 goin' up there, till after her little boy died he was drownded in 
 the lake back of the mountain, they said and then the men all 
 turned out to hunt for the body, but 'twas never found. Well, 
 you see after this little boy died, she seemed lonesomer and 
 shyer than ever and never made* talk with folks if they went 
 up there ; and in September, all of a sudden she disappeared, 
 and never come back." 
 
 " Who was she ? and why did she live there ? " asked Peace, 
 breathlessly, with strange interest. 
 
 "Well, dear, I reckon she stayed alone for the most part 
 she and her little boy. I've seen 'em, summer afternoons, walk- 
 in' down the hill-path to the valley and once, I went out a 
 purpose to see her close to, though I pretended to be a pickin' 
 berries that grew thick at the foot of the hill. Let me see 
 she was handsome as a picter, though she looked sad and pitiful- 
 like. She had bright shiny hair, and sad-lookin' eyes, though 
 they were blue as the flax flower, like yours yes ! I declare, 
 jest like yours, for the world ! " and the old dame threw up 
 her hands. " There ! I told Aunt Allen," she went on, " I told 
 her all along, how you looked nateral-like and I do say now, 
 you're the very picter o' her ! " and she attentively regarded 
 her listener. " But, poor creetur ! " and she resumed her 
 story with a' sigh "poor creetur! that's neither here nor 
 there I never saw her agin ! After the boy was drownded, 
 she never come down to the valley ; and all of a sudden they 
 said the cottage was empty." 
 
 " And the child was drowned ? and the woman went away ? 
 'and was there nobody else who ever lived there ? " asked 
 Peace slowly, as though articulation were painful.
 
 284 PEACE : OK TIIK STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " Yes seems to me, child yes, I do remember now," 
 mused the old lady, "how old Mr. Palfrey young Mr. 
 Lucien's father come home from the city one night, and said 
 how a fine young city buck come into these parts in the same 
 stage with him ; and that very evening, when the moonlight was 
 bright as day, he sat on the back piazzy and saw somebody goin' 
 up the hill-path ; and when he'd taken a look through the old 
 spy-glass he told John to*fetch out, I heard him telling Mrs. 
 Palfrey, sez he, ' That's the same young man that rode up to 
 Springdale with me ! ' * 
 
 " But did anybody ever hear his name ? " asked the young 
 girl in a strange husky voice. " Who was he, Mrs. Winslow ? " 
 
 " Laws, child ! dear knows I don't ! There are allers 
 enough bad men in the world to shut up their poor mistresses in 
 sich out-o'-the-way places most likely she was his! But, 
 poor thing ! I couldn't help pityin' her as she stood there on 
 the hill that afternoon, holdin' her little boy in her arms, look- 
 in' so pale and disconsolate-like ! Poor young creetur ! she 
 looked as pure and innocent as an angel, only so sorrowful ! 
 But bless me, child! you're white as a sheet! Are you sick? 
 You'd better go right to bed, dear and I'll bring you up a 
 cup of nice warm tea. That long walk was too much for 
 you!" 
 
 " And you never heard anything more after she left ? Did 
 the man ever come again ? " persisted Peace. 
 
 " La, child, what makes you so curous ? Poor creetur ! I 
 should like to know what become of her but never shall, now ; 
 As for him, I've told you all I know. Most likely the Lord has 
 rewarded him for his mistreatment of that poor young woman 
 long before this. ' Vengeance is mine, and I will repay, saith 
 the Lord.' But, dear child, you look tired. Do go up 
 Btairs ! "
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 285 
 
 When good Mrs. Winslow brought up a cup of smoking tea to 
 Peace, she said: 
 
 " I believe the' old spy-glass is up garret somewhere, and I'll 
 hunt it up to-morrow ; then you can watch the o.ld cottage on 
 the mountain all day, if you want to, from your window, and find 
 out purty quick if anybody goes in or out. Now drink your tea, 
 dear and go to sleep ! " 
 
 But little sleep came to Peace's* eyes. In a corner of her 
 trunk lay an old bead bag which had belonged to Patience. She 
 took thence a bit of folded linen in which was carefully wrapped 
 a piece of faded, age-stained paper evidently the back of a 
 note or letter, on which was superscribed, in a manly hand, the 
 two words " Augustus Revere ; " and now, alternately gazing 
 from that name to the miniature she held open, and musing over 
 the old housekeeper's recital, surely it was not her imagination 
 that converted that recital into a startling revelation. That 
 paper had been found in the pocket of Mary Halpine's dress ; 
 and now, the lapse of time nearly eighteen years, the mem- 
 ory of Uncle Reuben's words, " Peace, you are the image of 
 your mother," and the story of a baby -brother's death by 
 drowning, for Mary Halpine's dying words had been repeated to 
 her child, one and all, were they not links in the chain which 
 drew her nearer the knowledge of her parentage ? 
 
 And yet, all seemed a mockery ! Years not only had fled ; 
 but Death might divide her from that father for whom her heart 
 yearned. Or, if living, how, in the wide, wide world, could she 
 hope to encounter him ? Or, if that might be, would he acknowl- 
 edge her ; the child of shame ? Uncle Reuben's words at 
 Patience's death-bed, " For thirteen years you have been our 
 child, and he never came to claim you," swept across her mem- 
 ory like a funeral knell. 
 
 Long after midnight, while the moon came up and silvered
 
 286 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 the hill-side cliffs, she sat gazing at the stone cottage with tear- 
 ful eyes. 
 
 " There, my mother lived and suffered," she murmured with 
 pale, quivering lips. But ah ! her heart did not whisper how 
 near to her that night dwelt her beloved school-time companion 
 sweet Leafy Earle !
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Merciful God ! 
 
 It comes that face again, that white, white face 
 Set in a night of hair ; reproachful eyes, 
 
 That make me mad. 
 
 ALEXANDER SMITH. 
 
 THE morrow came a pleasant day with a soft west wind ; 
 and when Peace awoke, her first glance was toward the hill-side 
 cottage. 
 
 On going down to breakfast she found the old housekeeper in 
 " a heap of trouble," as the good dame expressed it. The vil- 
 lage dressmaker, Miss Goodfii, had just brought up to the Hall 
 a nice new black silk a present to Dame Winslow from 
 "young Mr. Lucien," in which the old lady, with pardonable 
 vanity, had designed to appear at Springdale church on the 
 approaching Sabbath, in honor of a favorite nephew who was to 
 preach for the first time in his native village. 
 
 " Dear knows," said the old lady, holding up the nearly com- 
 pleted dress as Peace entered the breakfast room, " dear knows 
 I don't want to be a bit proud, but when a body's own nephew 
 him that I eddicated ever since he was a lad comes home 
 from the University a fine minister, seems to me that a body 
 might be pardoned for wantin' to spruce up a little extra. You 
 see, Miss Peace, young Master Lucien brought me home this 
 gown from foreign parts 'twas real kind and thoughtful-like 
 in him and sez he, ' Here, Mother Winslow ' he always 
 calls me mother ' here's a little present for you.' And thinks 
 I, after I'd unrolled the parcel, I'll jist carry this over to Miss 
 
 (287)
 
 288 . PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Hepsy Goodfit and have it made up to wear when my nephew 
 Horace visits Springdale, and I'll have it made up with a cape, 
 and great sleeves, like the Squire's wife's watered silk. Well, 
 t'other day when I was at the village, I carried it in to the 
 manty-makers, and she measured off the skirt and cut the body 
 and cape I was dreadful partic'lar about the cape, you see 
 that's what's done the .mischief and then, some folks comin' 
 in all in a hurry, I come off, and we both'Torgot all about the 
 sleeves. Now here's Miss Goodfit, been up here bright and 
 arly this mornin', and says it don't hold out, 'and I must pattern 
 the silk and it can't be done short of York, and she ain't goin' 
 down till next week so I'll have to give up the gown for next 
 Sunday's wearin'. Well, I s'pose it's all for the best ! Old 
 women like me shouldn't get vain, even if their relations do 
 happen to get to be fine ministers," and the good dame began 
 refolding the dress. 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Winslow, let me go into town and match your 
 silk for you ! You know the boat comes along at eight, and it 
 is now only six," exclaimed Peace, glancing at the clock. 
 
 " La, no, dear I couldn't think o' such a thing ! It's going 
 to be a dreadful hot day and the jaunt would be too much for 
 you after your long walk yesterday ! " 
 
 " Oh, that was nothing ! I am perfectly well this morning 
 and should enjoy it much. Please let me go, dear Mrs. Wins- 
 low," persisted Peace. 
 
 " Well, child if you insist upon't," and the old lady wavered 
 " for I do want the gown sadly. And John shall harness up 
 and car^ry you down to the landing. You're a dear good child, 
 to humor an old woman's whims so ; but depend upon't, you 
 sha'n't be the loser by it, either." 
 
 Half an hour after breakfast over, and her pupils delighted 
 at the prospect of a holiday Peace, neatly attired in a mourn-
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. zy9 
 
 ing muslin and cottage hat, with a huge pattern of Dame "VVins- 
 low's silk safely stowed away by that careful lady in her reticule, 
 was seated in a low carriage beside old John, ready to drive to 
 the village steamboat-landing. And the old lady stood on the 
 broad piazza, where she had reiterated her charges " to be sure 
 and not walk about them hot city streets," " and go down to Mrs. 
 Delano's house to dinner." " She's a purty creetur so young 
 and modest, yet womanly-like ! " said the dame to Aunt Allen 
 as the carriage wound along the valley road. " Somehow, the 
 more I think on't, the more she does look like that poor young 
 woman that lived up in the cottage there so many year ago. 
 There ! that puts me in mind that I'll go straight up garret and 
 hunt up that old spy-glass. 
 
 " I wish it might be nephew Horace's good fortin' to get such 
 a good wife as Peace'll make ! " she added, pausing and looking 
 back at the old nurse. " Such a minister's wife as she'd make, 
 Aunt Allen ! " 
 
 " For my part, I don't see where young Mr. Lucien's eyes are, 
 to take that proud, flirtin' Miss Florence before her. It 'pears 
 to me his journey to furrin parts warn't all for the best, if he's 
 goin' to marry her, as they say. But there, Mrs. Winslow 
 'tain't no sort of airthly use for you or I to plan ! These men 
 will do as they've a mind to, spite of us ; and I've about 
 settled down into the belief it's best to let 'em take their own 
 way. Experience's the best master, I reckon, for some of 'em ! " 
 and the indignant old lady followed Cora into the hall. " If 
 they will walk right into the fire with their eyes wide open, / 
 can't help it 1 " 
 
 In a short time after Peace was set down at the landing, the 
 little steamer .came down river its paddle-wheels leaving a 
 
 25
 
 290 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 long white foamy wake on the water, and puffs of wreathing 
 smoke flecking the blue air. 
 
 Daily the boat made the trip downward to the city, returning 
 at nightfall and as the plank was withdrawn, and Peace lin- 
 gered on deck, watching the green, wooded banks, she felt a 
 novel delight at the prospect of her little journey. True, the 
 memory of the preceding night's revelation clung to her then ; 
 but the freshness and sunlight exerted a wonderful cheery and 
 strengthening influence, infusing the subtle alchemy of hope into 
 her heart. 
 
 Blessed sunlight ! reviver and strengthener ! folding back the 
 shadows that shroud our spirits in the brooding night-time 
 bringing light and hope with the day ! type of that greater, 
 more blessed sunlight the true God-ray vivifying our lives 
 when densest earth-sorrows sit around the hearthstones of our 
 hearts ! 
 
 The wooded banks flung down giant shadows in the river 
 wild geranium-blossoms trailed down to the water's edge 
 , white villas gleamed out from shady glens, or reared their fronts, 
 rich in .architectural adornments, on commanding eminences 
 and, from some bold projecting promontory, gnarled and gloomy 
 firs deeply rooted in the earthly interstices of the ledgy soil, 
 leaned riverward, flinging distorted shadows into the blue mirror 
 below. 
 
 Now and then little pleasure-boats darted out from some dark 
 wooded cove, skimming along neck and neck with the swift 
 steamer, while the passengers watched the chase with animated 
 interest ; flocks of birds, upspringing from some topmost tree- 
 branch, circled round and round in their flight, following the 
 vessel at times sinking almost to the deck, then rapidly whir- 
 ring away as if in fear of the great fiery-breathed monster 
 ploughing the calm waters of the river. And Peace watched,
 
 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 291 
 
 with especial interest, one great dusky-winged bird circling high 
 above the vessel's track, then, wheeling suddenly on his 
 course, beating the air with heavy strokes of his great wings, he 
 poised above the chain of hills around Springdale, and with a 
 rapid swoop fell downward, settling on the cliff overhanging the 
 stone cottage. 
 
 The girl shuddeTed, as the ill-omened, boding rav.en set- 
 tled down. The old housekeeper's recital rushed across her 
 mind. 
 
 " My poor, poor mother ! " she murmured, with tearful 
 eyes. 
 
 At length the roar of the city smote on her ears the steady 
 rumbling of drays and carriages rolling along toward the 
 wharves, the shouts of drivers and porters, and cries of news- 
 boys, mingling with a thousand other city sounds ; and amid the 
 deepening din the little river steamer worked her way toward 
 the wharf among the countless craft of every description, and 
 with a few heavy puffs of smoke and a slow measured beat of 
 the engine, came up to her station. 
 
 Peace quickly and somewhat timidly threaded her way among 
 the crowd ; and, walking rapidly, soon found herself in that por- 
 tion of the city with which she was familiar. Taking a car- 
 riage, she soon gained Mrs. Delano's house. Going round to 
 the basement entrance, her ring was answered by Mrs. Warren, 
 in whose charge the house was left, and who heartily welcomed 
 her visitor. After mutual inquiries, dinner, and an hour's rest 
 in her own chamber, Peace started forth again. 
 
 At a later hour, her purchases over, she walked slowly out on 
 the Battery, enjoying keenly the fresh sea-air and lingering 
 under the grateful shade-trees. Suddenly a thought occurred 
 " Perhaps Orah Rowland is in town ! " and she soon stood 
 before Judge Rowland's mansion, in a retired quarter of the city,
 
 292 PEACE : OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 and shaded by a few magnificent trees rooted when New York 
 
 was a full century younger. 
 
 Her visit was a successful one ; and in a few moments she 
 
 found herself seated in the long, cool, darkened drawing-room, 
 
 and welcomed with the warmest expressions of regard. 
 
 " You naughty girl ! " said Orah in playful earnestness, " I 
 
 have the best mind to scold you for going off into the country 
 
 without apprizing me of your intention ! Why did you not 
 
 come to bid me good bye ? " 
 Peace smiled. 
 " Because I supposed that, like all the rest of the fashionable 
 
 world, you were too busily occupied with dress-makers and mil- 
 liners in preparation for your summer's flitting to some watering- 
 place, to spare many precious minutes for your poor friend, the 
 governess. Even now, my call was an experiment ; for I scarce 
 expected to find you still in town." 
 
 " Unkind Peace ! when was Orah Rowland so immersed in 
 fashionable frivolities as to deny herself to her dearest school- 
 time friend ? As for crowded watering-places," she added with 
 a change of manner, " I detest them ! Latterly, as perhaps 
 you may know, I have gained the reputatioli of being " odd," 
 " eccentric," and I choose to prove it, by preferring the com- 
 fort of our cool, airy house, to imprisonment in little seven- 
 by-nine sleeping apartments, dancing till daylight in crowded 
 halls, or sitting over interminable dinners at the hotels of 
 Newport or Saratoga. Such martyrs to Fashion have my 
 supremest pity ! By and by, I may visit a pleasant country 
 town in Massachusetts, where I passed the most of my school- 
 vacations, or -I may remain here. But what sort of a place are 
 you staying at ? " she resumed. " A real bona fide old country 
 house ? Then I must drive out there some day ; Louis would 
 like no better office than chaperone, pi-ovided a certain young
 
 PEACE 1. OK THE STOLEN WILL. 293 
 
 friend of mine would grant him a warm welcome ! " and she 
 glanced archly toward her companion. 
 
 A slight blush dyed Peace's cheek. 
 
 " Certainly, I should indeed be most happy to see Mr. How- 
 land there," she said in a slightly constrained voice ; " but oh, 
 if you would come there, Orali, and spend a week with me, it 
 would seem quite like the old school-days again. There are 
 such grand old woods ! such sunsets ! such flower-scented winds ! 
 You know nothing about it here in your great city I You will 
 come ! 
 
 " Thank you ! yes indeed, my dear ! " and Orah clasped the 
 hand that lay like a little snow-flake on the arm of the crimson 
 damask chair. " I should be delighted for I do love the coun- 
 try right well ! But is it true, Peace, that Dr. Palfrey is shortly 
 to marry that heartless, soulless Florence Delano ? I hope not, 
 for his sake, for, though I do not know much of the man, I 
 should judge him to possess a fine, sensitive nature, which cer- 
 tainly cannot be similar to hers. Is it so ? " 
 
 " They all say so," answered Peace. 
 
 Her reply was uttered in a low tone, and Orah Rowland felt 
 the hand clasped in hers tremble ; and she looked searchingly 
 from under her jetty eye-lashes into a face which she fancied 
 grew pale, despite the warming tint of the heavy crimson broca- 
 telle curtains. A sudden light flashed on her brain ; and at that 
 moment, Orah dimly guessed what caused that quivering hand 
 and paling cheek. Like shafts had pierced both their hearts, 
 and the calm, proud, elegant woman, and the quiet, shrinking, 
 humble governess, alike suffered. Instinctively her hand tight- 
 ened over Peace's. 
 
 The little silence that followed was broken by Orah. 
 
 " Peace, do you know anything of Leafy Earle these 
 days?" 
 
 25*
 
 294 I'KACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 The girl drew a long breath of relief. The silence was sti- 
 fling. 
 
 " I have heard from her but once since I left Northfield. She 
 wrote me then from her country home, saying that she should go 
 to some city perhaps this where the sale of her paintings 
 would support her mother and herself. I wrote immediately 
 in return, but no reply ever reached me. Perhaps she is 
 here." 
 
 " That accounts for it, then ! " and Orah's eye brightened. 
 " A few weeks ago, in a picture-store, I purchased- two minia- 
 ture landscapes perfect gems of Art and on close inspec- 
 tion a few days since, discovered two tiny initials, ' L. E.,' in 
 the corner. Let us go up and see them they are in my 
 dressing-room. They must be hers ! To-morrow I will visit 
 the store and inquire where the proprietor procured them 
 thus, if Leafy be in the city, we can obtain a clue to her." 
 
 Time passed rapidly to the two girls in the dressing-room, 
 until, as the clock on the mantel chimed five, Peace rose to 
 depart. 
 
 "The boat leaves at six," she said. "I shall have scarce 
 time for my walk." 
 
 " No, no ! let it go ! " pleaded Orah. " Pass the night 
 with me, and in the morning Louis shall drive us out to Spring- 
 dale in an open carriage. It will be delightful ! " 
 
 Peace wavered for a moment ; but, remembering the anxiety 
 that Dame Winslow must feel if the evening boat came without 
 her, and old John's promise to be in waiting at the landing, she 
 decided to return. 
 
 After Orah Rowland had kissed Peace at the hall-door and 
 put her from her with a quick movement at parting, she went 
 hastily into the drawing-room. 
 
 " Why is that girl so dear to me ? " she said, vehemently
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 295 
 
 pacing up and down the velvet carpet with its rich Sorrento 
 roses. " Why but because she is so much like him ! the 
 same eyes, the same smile, the same high, proud nature softened 
 and tempered into womanhood ! It was that which first drew 
 me to her ha the old school-days she was so like him ! Oh, 
 Jasper, Jasper ! Can it be, that I have not conquered myself 
 yet ? Heart, are you not yet laid to sleep ? " and she clasped 
 her fingers tightly over it " that a word, a tone, a smile so like 
 his, has power to make me grow faint ! When I thought every 
 memory had been steeped in the Lethean tide of forgetfulness 
 now, hydra-headed, they rise to haunt me ! Oh, I, who have 
 so counted upon my strength who have thought to pluck up 
 every memory of that past, and cast it from me Oh, I am 
 weaker, weaker than a very reed in the gale ! " and she flung 
 herself passionately on a couch, heavy tears forcing their way 
 through her jewelled fingers. 
 
 After many minutes of painful, passionate weeping, she again 
 stemmed back the turbulent tide of Feeling and shut the iron 
 gate of Resolve against it. 
 
 " This is not well ! Others have suffered, and conquered 
 why not I? Henceforth I am strong ! " 
 
 A rapid walk soon brought Peace to the crowded business 
 thoroughfares of the city. The pavements were thronged, car- 
 riages obstructed the crossings, and it was with difficulty that she 
 threaded her way. At length, in endeavoring to cross a wide 
 street whence she could emerge into another where a narrow 
 alley cut off a portion of the distance to the wharf, she was 
 forced to a stand by an unbroken file of vehicles. A crowd had 
 collected about the crossing, for the most part, business men 
 judging from their keen, eager countenances, and evident impa- 
 tience at the detention ; and close beside her, chafing at the
 
 296 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 delay, and awaiting the first opening among the carriages, stood 
 a man who at once attracted Peace's attention. 
 
 His haughty personal beauty first arrested her eye. He 
 had reached certainly not exceeded the prime of life, for 
 there were but few silver threads in his luxuriant curls ; his 
 teeth were white and perfect, gleaming through heavy but well- 
 cut lips ; his hands white as a lady's ; but his countenance had a 
 pale, almost haggard look, and the eyebrows were contracted, as 
 if with anxious thought. As he stood there, nervously grinding 
 his heel into the pavement, Peace's gaze, as by some strange 
 fascination, was rivetted upon him ; nor could she withdraw it. 
 
 Suddenly a change of position by the pressure of the crowd 
 brought them face to face. Such a change as passed over his 
 features then ! He had been pale before now, a marble hue 
 settled on them ; and surprise, wonder, almost terror, alternated 
 on that face. 
 
 Peace dropped her eyes, half-terrified, and with trembling 
 feet crept away. But the gaze of those eyes every feature of 
 that face was daguerreotyped upon her brain. Somewhere, 
 had she seen them before but when, or where, she knew not. 
 She grew bewildered, confused, and so glided away. 
 
 When the crowd had separated and the street was clear, still 
 that man stood where she had left him white, immovable as a 
 statue. People jostled him in passing merchants of note 
 touched their hats to him friends went by with a greeting ; 
 but he stirred not for many moments. At length, passing his 
 hand over his forehead like one awakening from a dream, he 
 murmured hollowly, " Good God ! was it a spirit ? Can the 
 dead come back to haunt me ? " and dropping his white hands 
 nervously, he bent his haughty head as though age 'had suddenly 
 stricken him, and moved on.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 297 
 
 On the deck of the little river steamer ploughing her home- 
 ward way unmindful of the sunset glories playing over sky, 
 earth, and water, tinting the clouds piled above Weehawken's 
 summit with streaks of crimson and gold, flashing with long 
 lance-like rays through wooded steeps and over grassy slopes, 
 then cresting the noble river with a thousand flashing jewels 
 unmindful of the soft west wind playing on her brow and bring- 
 ing flower-scents from villa-gardens along the banks, sat Peace, 
 her every thought given to that haunting face. 
 
 When the evening shadows had deepened, and the starlight 
 shone overhead, the boat stopped at a little landing a few miles 
 below Springdale. Two gentlemen passed her seat ; and in the 
 confusion, a few words reached her ear. 
 
 " Yes sir," said a tall man, pausing a moment as the plank 
 was thrown ashore, "I tell you there'll be a crash soon, and he 
 must go down ! I saw him to-day, dodging in and out the 
 brokers' offices on Wall Street, looking like a hunted man ; and 
 
 I stood close beside him at the corner of C Street, this 
 
 afternoon, on my way to the boat and, be assured, he never 
 wears that anxious look for nothing. Mark it, sir, in less 
 than a fortnight, the name of Augustus Revere will be cashiered, 
 disgraced among the merchants of New York ! But I go ashore 
 here Good night, sir ! " 
 
 With a wild cry, Peace sprang up and caught a man's 
 arm. 
 
 " Did you speak, miss ? " asked one of the boatmen. 
 
 " Oh, sir tell me Mr. Revere " but, weary, confused, 
 and finding her mistake, she sank back to her seat. Meantime 
 the boat pushed from shore, the speaker's companion was lost in 
 the crowd on deck, and again they were on their way up the 
 river. 
 
 But the key was furnished! "Augustus Revere" those
 
 298 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 spoken words had cleared the mists from her brain. Yes ! 
 those features- those eyes thousands of times had she gazed 
 upon them ; and Peace's hand convulsively grasped the minia- 
 ture she wore. She had stood that day beside her father ! 
 
 " Oh, for the morrow ! the morrow ! " she murmured with 
 dilated eyes, as the steamer rounded to the landing at Spring- 
 dale. " And, with the morrow, I will find him ! " 
 
 As good old John handed her to the carriage, and they rode 
 home by the light of the rising moon, she gazed long and ear- 
 nestly to where the little stone cottage perched on the cliff like 
 an eagle's eyrie. 
 
 No dusky raven sat brooding on the crags ; but, unseen in the 
 evening, Hugh Golding he who had left the steamer two 
 miles down the river, and hastened to the stable of a little coun- 
 try inn where he bestrode his horse was dashing up the hill- 
 side path ; and Leafy Earle awaited his coming. 
 
 Was not the bird of prey there, still ?
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Seal up your lips, and give no word but mum ! 
 The business asketh silent secrecy. 
 
 SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 THE bound boy, Chip, went slowly up the dark stair-cases 
 until he gained his garret-chamber. There was but one win- 
 dow, small and uncurtained, through which the yellow moonlight 
 shone, lighting up with faithful distinctness the slanting ceiling 
 and rough, unplastered walls the bed with its faded blue and 
 white coverlet a broken chair, a pine table propped up in a 
 corner, and an old red wooden trunk upon which the boy sat 
 down. 
 
 This low stifling room which Hannah had allotted him for a 
 sleeping apartment had been partitioned from one extremity of 
 the long garret, years before, as a kind of store-room. In Pa- 
 tience's day it had been filled with the useless articles that 
 accumulate in old houses old chairs, one or two dilapidated 
 spinning-wheels, a wooden cradle, and the little trundle-bed that 
 had been used in the family for a generation, but had been put 
 away unoccupied after poor lame Katy died ; and the walls were 
 hung with bags of herbs, dried apples, festoons of traced corn 
 and scarlet bell-peppers. 
 
 Little Peace, in rummaging about the old house, discovered 
 what a nice " play-room " the old attic would make ; so Aunt 
 Patience brushed away the cobwebs from the window, swept up 
 the loose-boarded floor, and the child brought up her rag dolls 
 and arranged bits of broken china, and acorn cups and saucei-s, 
 
 (299)
 
 300 PEACE : OR .THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 on an old box in the corner, and on rainy days, joined by a 
 few playmates, there were such " grand times " as you and I, 
 reader, have had in our childhood, playing hide-and-seek in the 
 garrets of old country houses, or " keeping house " on a minia- 
 ture scale, and receiving guests with a brace of dolls in bright 
 pink frocks and embroidered pantalettes sitting bolstered against 
 the wall to assist us in doing " the honors." We have a most 
 vivid memory of these "receptions," where the juvenile aris- 
 tocracy of our neighborhood was fully represented. Little Hat- 
 tie Dean was favored with a most urgent invitation, because her 
 new linen apron, with ruffled pockets, was our especial envy, and 
 we had resolved upon teasing our mother for a similar one ; 
 Lottie Gordon was the admired owner of a new blue bead chain ; 
 Georgy Temple a juvenile Adonis with red cheeks, curly 
 hair, bright buttons, and the snowiest of turned-down linen col- 
 lars had been our favored " beau " at school, bringing us ' early 
 apples ' to eat at recess, and throwing little billet doux across the 
 aisle when " the master's " eye was not upon him ; Ned Chan- 
 dler was the best speller of his class, and policy taught us to 
 secure the good opinion of our rival ; and then, little, white, 
 chubby Mabel Wynn, with dimpled shoulders, hands like soft 
 tiny snow-flakes, under whose round chin we used to hold the 
 yellow king's cup to see " if she liked butter " one and all, 
 they came to our attic " drawing rooms." 
 
 But this has little to do with our poor Chip. Back from the 
 digression. 
 
 When Hannah Ward became mistress of the Ridge farm, the 
 house, from garret to cellar, underwent a thorough process of 
 "cleaning up." Then she discovered that the garret chamber 
 wn> quite good enough for "a pauper," and accordingly removed 
 him thither ; and, after a long day's scrubbing in the little room 
 he had always occupied, shut it up like every other chamber of
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 301 
 
 the farm-house, to the cobwebs and darkness. And it was to 
 this stifling garret that Chip ascended that warm June night, 
 seating himself wearily on the old trunk that contained all his 
 worldly treasures, a suit of homespun stuff Patience had spun 
 and woven, a straw hat, and thick shoes kept for Sunday wear. 
 
 Reuben's and Patience's management of the boy had been 
 most judicious. Appealing to his heart for, though his mental 
 capacities were of the lowest order, he possessed warm impulses 
 and strong capabilities of attachment they had brought out 
 the good of his nature, and, by uniformly mild treatment, had 
 prevented ebullitions of a naturally violent will, and rendered 
 unnecessary those wiles of cunning and stratagem which charac- 
 terize those hapless ones to whom their Creator has denied the 
 higher gifts of intellectual power. Patiently bearing with his 
 stupidity in some pursuits, and encouraging his aptness in others 
 giving him the privilege of the winter's schooling, where he 
 slowly acquired a knowledge of reading and the rudiments of 
 arithmetic and geography teaching him to repeat passages of 
 Scripture as th^y sat by the evening fire, and, above all, by the 
 silent influence of example teaching him the beauties of truth 
 and kindness under such monitions, Chip gradually became 
 something better than the poor, half-witted pauper boy, who first 
 sought their protection. 
 
 If God has seen proper to withhold from some of his children 
 those gifts that go to make up strong and noble intellectual 
 capacities, has He not hi a measure compensated by dowering 
 such with exquisitely keen perceptions of the Beautiful 
 whether manifested in a love for Nature's wonderful creations, 
 or forms of living, breathing loveliness ? thus rendering this 
 intuition a fine golden thread which permeates the warp and 
 woof of their being, and brightens the life otherwise dim in 
 shadows ? 
 
 26
 
 302 PE^CE : OR THE STOLEN^WILL. 
 
 Chip's passion for flowers arranging them, as he would, 
 into bouquets, with an exquisite regard to harmony of color- and 
 shade was one manifestation of this love for the Beautiful ; 
 and the proximity of the lovely child, Peace, whose blue eyes 
 and golden curls made the sunshine of the old farm-house, gave 
 him strange delight. 
 
 Thus a species of wild, romantic, reverential worship sprang 
 up, and aroused germs of thought in his torpid mind. Love is 
 .not only an Jiwakener, but a Beautifier. No sluggard loves 
 truly : no dolt possesses such a capacity. The man whose intel- 
 lectual and social dowries are right royal, cannot lay down the 
 treasures of a strong, rich love at the shrine of a kindred heart 
 without an irradiation from his inner to his outward being ; 
 poorer natures, too, have their share in. this gift, down to the 
 lowest churl ; and so, in this strange worship which the bound 
 boy paid to Peace " the angel " of his vision new thoughts 
 were born in his stagnant brain, and from his outward physical 
 being uncouthness had in a measure departed. 
 
 But the vision faded " the angel " went a\ay and Han- 
 nah Ward, with her harsh voice, cold eye and horny hands, shut 
 down a great black wall before him. No kindness no cheer- 
 ing words of praise no beautiful face, flitting in and out the 
 old farm-house no flowers in the garden no chapters read 
 from the great Bible at nightfall ; only the unvarying routine of 
 daily toil and daily censure ! Chip was fast retracing his steps 
 into that world of dull, blank ignorance, out of which he had 
 been emerging. 
 
 That night, however, as he sat on the old wooden trunk in his 
 garret-room, an idea which little Tommy Sandcrs's words had 
 awakened took entire possession of his mind ; and for the first 
 time since Reuben's death, Chip thought long and earnestly. A 
 link of Memory's rusted chain had been polished anew by the
 
 PEACE ! OR THE STOLEN WILL. 303 
 
 friction of that thought. It flashed over him what he -had 
 seen in passing the kitchen-window the night of Reuben's death 
 Hannah Ward's gaunt figure bending over the table, intently 
 scanning an unfolded paper by the candle-light; and, linking 
 that memory with Tommy's revelation of the will, Chip came 
 to the conclusion that his hard task-mistress had then, and there, 
 committed the theft, while Reuben lay dead before her. 
 
 Then a sudden decision was born in his brain ! He would 
 straightway find Peace recount the whole story of her wrongs 
 bring her back, to depose the usurper of her rightful home at 
 the Ridge ; and, so pleased was he with this plan, that the bound 
 boy began leaping about the floor with extravagant gestures of 
 delight. 
 
 But all the cunning of his nature returned. He checked him- 
 self cautiously lifted the lid of his trunk, and removed the 
 homespun suit in which he arrayed himself laid out on the 
 bed a straw hat fantastically draped with a band of rusty crape 
 worn as ' mourning ' for Reuben, and put an artificial rose, which 
 had once adorned Peace's Sunday Jbonnet, in a button-hole of his 
 short jacket tied up a pair of yarn socks and thick shoes in his 
 bright silk kerchief waited till the tramp of Hannah Ward's 
 thick shoes had long ceased from the kitchen and when the 
 house was still, crept softly down the stairway. 
 
 Lingering in the lower entry until satisfied that Hannah had 
 sought her bed, he softly opened the kitchen door. Stepping 
 with a cat-like tread across the floor in the bright moonlight, he 
 was suddenly arrested by a clinldng sound from the bed-room. 
 Curiosity waS fully aroused. Cautiously lifting the latch of the 
 outer door and laying his bundle out on the step, he crept back 
 and crouched stealthily down, applying his eyes to the crack 
 behind the door. 
 
 Not five paces distant, in a low chair before the bureau on
 
 304 PEACE : OK THE STOLEN ^WILL. 
 
 which a candle was burning, sat Hannah with a small trunk in 
 her lap. She held a stocking into which she dropped coin after 
 coin with the clinking sound that had arrested Chip j a gloating, 
 greedy look in her twinkling black eyes. 
 
 Chip crouched down in fascination, breathlessly peering 
 through the aperture. Then, looking upon the shining dollars, 
 and the miserly woman with that hungry gaze in her cold eyes, 
 an emotion of hate passed through his mind. 
 
 " It isn't hers it all belongs to Peace ! she stole it ! " he 
 muttered softly between his clenched teeth. A wild, desperate 
 idea gleamed through his brain. His hand clutched a new, 
 sharp jack-knife in the depths of his pocket. " I hate her ! I 
 might kill her ! I would take all "that money and carry it to 
 Peace ! " and his eyes glittered with a fierce, almost insane 
 light. His lips closed tightly his tanned hand brought up the 
 knife, and with his forefinger upon the blade-spring, he gathered 
 himself to his feet and prepared to spring into the bed-room. 
 
 But the touch of a cold hand seemed to fall upon his head 
 a murmuring sound rang through his ears he heard Patience 
 reading from the old Bible and the Commandment, " Thou 
 shalt not kill," clove like lightning into his excited brain. The 
 gleam of hard, cunning desperation faded from his eyes his 
 
 fingers relaxed their hold upon the knife, which fell back into 
 
 % 
 his pocket again and the bound boy sunkgj^ r n upon his knees 
 
 once more. 
 
 And Hannah went on counting the money; and. at length, 
 the last dollar deposited in the Stocking, slu' tif>d it up securely 
 and laid it back into the trunk. Pausing a moment, with the 
 upraised lid in her hand, she muttered something which Chip 
 held his breath to hear. 
 
 " Mine ! yes, all mine ! " she said exultingly. " Nobody to 
 touch a dollar on't but me ! And why shouldn't I take comfort
 
 PEACJS : OR TIIE STOLEN WILL. 305 
 
 in countin' it over ? It's no more'n right it belongs to me ! 
 Peace come into the family, and had her bringin' up, and 
 schoolin' and that's what Mary Halpine's child never ought to 
 a' had ! Reub. poor fool ! to go nigh about crazy after such 
 a huzzy ! * He meant to leave every cent o' property and inch 
 o' land to Peace ! but ha, ha, ha ! Hannah Ward was a 
 little too sharp for him there ! This, tells the story ha, ha ! " 
 
 and with a low chuckling, exulting laugh, she laid back the 
 lid of the trunk and took up a folded paper. 
 
 Chip started up, then sunk down again. 
 
 " Yes, this tells the story ! Nobody saw me nobody knows 
 it to this day not a soul ! " but, spite of her security, she 
 gave a furtive glance around, peering into the dark corners. 
 " Nobody knows it old Squire Barton died years ago the 
 witnesses are dead, too and the will never had a copy 
 nobody knows it. I might burn it," and for a moment she 
 glanced toward the candle. " I might a' done it then but I 
 won't, because I can say with a clear conscience, I never 
 'destroyed the will ha, ha ! I never destroyed it ! " and 
 again her low laugh rang through the room. " But I can lock 
 it up here and now let anybody find it, if they can, that's all ! " 
 
 and the lid was closed, the trunk locked with a hard, vigorous 
 snap of the key, which she dropped into the depths of the capa- 
 cious pocket she always wore over her short gown ; and noise- 
 lessly and swiftly Chip crept across the kitchen-floor and stole 
 out into the open air. 
 
 An hour after, he rose from the dark shadows of a large lilac 
 tree near the garden fence, and crept toward the house. Climb- 
 ing in at an open window of the shed for Hannah had come 
 out and barred the kitchen door he stole into the kitchen and 
 approached the bed-room, from whence a deep, regular breath- 
 ing told that Hannah slept soundly. 
 
 26*
 
 306 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Three minutes after, as Chip emerged from the shed-window, 
 pausing a moment to gatEer up his bundle from the foot of the 
 lilac tree, Bruno came sleepily from the yard, rubbing his nose 
 against his master's hand. " Go lay down, sir ! " said the lad in 
 a whisper ; and the dog obeyed. Chip leaped the road wall, 
 and as he ran rapidly down the highway, a laugh of wild glee 
 broke on the night air.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 " Ever circling higher, 
 Coil the red flames the maddened, hungry fire ! " 
 
 IT was late at night ere Peace laid her head on her pillow. 
 She was not physically weary. The events of that day, creating 
 the wildest mental excitement, banished sleep from her eyelids. 
 
 Sitting in the silence of her chamber while the night lay fair 
 over the earth without, with prophet eyes she sought to read her 
 future. Oh, could she but dash aside the blinding veil, and 
 know if indeed she were to be clasped in a parent's arms ! Was 
 the mystery that enshrouded her indeed to be made plain, and 
 she no more to grope blindly in the chill darkness of her lonely, 
 unloved life ? Oh, if such happiness should be for her ! and 
 with eager parted lips, and crimsoned cheeks, she suffered her 
 thoughts to stray at their own sweet will. 
 
 Then her mood changed. 
 
 " Oh, if it be all a mistake ! If he, whose presence I must 
 seek to-morrow, be not my father ! but no ! Nature's instincts 
 are too strong ! my heart tells me that, at last, I have found 
 him ! But there is another fear still ! " and a dark dread 
 stole athwart her mind, " he may deny me ! Rich, haughty, 
 elevated in social rank, perhaps with wife and children around 
 him, will he own the child of his passionate youth ? Alas ! alas ! 
 he may send me from his door, a very outcast for, oh, if he 
 so wronged my gentle, beautiful mother, how can he care for the 
 child ? God help me ! Peace, Peace, why did they call me 
 that? Why did they not, instead, name me Marah bitter- 
 
 (307)
 
 308 PEACE: ou THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 ness ? Alas ! it was not enough that one hoarded hope should 
 die ! " and her hands were locked tighter over her heart 
 " but now come these maddening forebodings ! I am fated ! 
 fated to disgrace, to misery ! " and in despair she sank sobbing 
 to her knees. 
 
 The old Dutch clock on the staircase chimed twelve. 
 
 " Only midnight ! Will the morrow never come ? It seems 
 a century since I met him ! " moaned the kneeler. " To- 
 morrow ! to-morrow ! it bears my fate in its bosom ! " 
 
 After a little she grew calmer. Robing herself for the night, 
 she knelt again and murmured a calmer prayer, whose burthen 
 was, " Let me no more go lonely in this cold, cold world ! 
 Heavenly Parent, grant me my earthly father ! " and then 
 she lay down -on the cool white pillows ; and the sweet eyes 
 grew misty with sleep, and the angel who keeps watch and ward 
 over the blessed realms of Dreamland sent a messenger to guide 
 her over its portals. 
 
 And walking there where you and I, reader mine, have 
 wandered oft in slumber, living such brief golden lives where 
 moments seem lengthened years, enriched with glorious visions 
 and experiences of exquisite happiness where we gather up 
 again every joy that has faded from our waking lives, and bathe 
 anew in the splendor of their ineffable glory where we meet 
 the loved and lost, not as we saw them last, with dulled eye and 
 sharpened features under the coffin-lid, but in all the lusty prime 
 and delicate loveliness of vigor and youth there, in that won- 
 drous Dreamland alas ! that its visions a"re but mirages, and 
 its forms but impalpable shadows ! there came, to Peace, a 
 shadowy form, laying white spirit-hands on the lone wanderer's 
 brow, and whispering, with the soft mother-tone in her voice, 
 " Peace is for thee, my daughter ! " 
 
 From the exceeding bliss of such a realm, how tame and
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 309 
 
 pnx-aic the return to waking life ! The splendid visions fade 
 into nothingness ; the dark mists of Actuality enfold us again, 
 through which, like ships meeting on a twilight sea, Life, with 
 its forms of approaching reality, looms up hugely and we 
 shrink, lest we go down in the shock of the contact. Ah, yes ! 
 Very painful is the transition from the fairy land of dreams to 
 our dull, cold earth again ! 
 
 It was in the thick darkness of those hours immediately pre- 
 ceding the dawn, that Peace turned drowsily upon her pillow 
 with a suffocating sensation in her throat. There was a moan- 
 ing, rushing sound, like a strong wind ; and a dashing and crack- 
 ing, as of rain or hailstones against the windows. 
 
 A few moments passed, then came once more that suffocation 
 hot gusty breaths of air, and a louder rushing, moaning, 
 crackling ! Peace awoke gasped for breath sprang upright 
 on her pillow and leaped with a loud shriek to the floor. Red 
 tongues were hissing through the open windows the room was 
 lurid with flame ! 
 
 The thought of self-preservation came uppermost. Hastily 
 flinging a garment about her, she fled toward the door. In the 
 gallery which led circuitously toward the old-fashioned winding 
 staircase, the smoke was thick and stifling ; but she held her 
 breath, feeling her way along the walls, until her hand was on 
 the banister and her foot on the stair. A turn in the winding 
 flight brought up to her an intolerably stifling heat, and rolling 
 out from the rear portion of the lower hall came heavy masses 
 of smoke dull red tongues of flame cleaving their murky folds. 
 The fire had evidently originated in the rear of the house, and 
 was on its onward march ; and with a sudden leap, Peace drew 
 her garments about her and bounded down the staircase. With 
 giant strength she lifted the ponderous iron bar from the oaken 
 door, and flung it wide open.
 
 310 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Half-stifled, she sank upon the threshold ; but when the pure 
 night air had revived her and the confusion floated from her 
 brain, Peace started up. The flames leaped and crackled be- 
 hind far and wide the red glare gleamed over the valley 
 but not a voice, save hissing, crackling tongues of fire, clove the 
 stillness of the night. 
 
 She, alone, was safe ! The sleepers there the aged man, 
 the helpless women, the children, little Cora where were 
 they ? Good God ! must they perish, and never a finger be 
 lifted to save them ? She turned back. 
 
 But the way was cut off. With lightning rapidity the flames 
 had overspread the oaken panelling of. the hall, and now coiled 
 through and around the carved banisters of the staircase. 
 
 " Oh, "will no one come to help me save them ? Will no one 
 ever come ? " and she uttered shriek after shriek of frenzied 
 agony, then cowered down on the threshold driven further 
 and further down the broad steps by the stifling heat. 
 
 At that moment a cry came up from the valley. " Fire ! fire ! 
 FIRE ! " echoed on the night coming nearer and nearer ; then 
 mingled the feebler shouts of John Winslow, dragging his terri- 
 fied wife through the blinding smoke. 
 
 " God help us ! " exclaimed the old housekeeper, pale with 
 terror, sinking down beside Peace "Oh, why can't people 
 come faster ? " 
 
 Peace started up. She would go to meet them she would 
 urge them onward and she staggered forward with outstretched 
 hands ; but, overcome by exhaustion, fell prone in the gravelled 
 walk before the mansion. When she recovered her conscious- 
 ness, she gazed dimly, as one in a dream, on a scene of terror. 
 A dense crowd were flitting to and fro, removing furniture from 
 the burning house ; firemen were adjusting hose and commencing 
 to play ; while the mad flames, leaping high to the clouds, cast 
 their red light far and wide over the country.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 311 
 
 Then she faintly turned her head. She lay on a smooth, 
 grassy lawn whither some one had borne her ; while close beside 
 her, speechless and palsied with fear, sat old Dame Winslow ; 
 and Alexis and Victorine huddled close, grasping her gown and 
 crying with affright. Half-comprehending this scene of confu- 
 sion, Peace languidly rose to her feet. The first object on 
 which her eye fell, was % the portrait of the once mistress of these 
 domains, lying topmost on a heap of carpets, sofas, antique cabi- 
 nets, chairs, silver ware and pictures, thrown pell-mell together. 
 
 In an instant Peace comprehended all. They had rescued 
 the pictured face of Lucien Palfrey's dead wife ; had they 
 saved his child ? 
 
 " Where is Cor.fi ? " she cried wildly. 
 
 But the old housekeeper, mute with fear, only sat swaying 
 herself to and fro ; and the children answered but with fresh 
 sobs. 
 
 In an instant Peace stood among the crowd. " Go some 
 of you go ! " and sh^| grasped men's arms " Save them 
 Mr. Palfrey's child, and old Nurse Allen ! Go ! " 
 
 " Where are they ? " asked several voices. 
 
 " In the western wing the rear chamber. Oh hasten ! " 
 and she kneltj with clasped hands. 
 
 There was a pause it seemed a century to the excited girl. 
 Men gazed into one another's faces, then upon the pile en- 
 wrapped in flame ; they trembled ; but not a foot stirred. 
 
 " Why do you wait ? You have old mothers some of you 
 and little ones. If you are men, save them ! " and rising to 
 her feet, standing there in the red glare, the folds of her white 
 robe draping her slender form, and waves of rippling hair sweep- 
 ing her shoulders, she seemed some vestal priestess urging her 
 -votaries to the sacrifice. 
 
 Men's cheeks grew paler yet but no foot stirred. The love
 
 312 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 of life was strong, and it seemed certain death to rush into the 
 jaws of the hungry fire. 
 
 " Cowards ! cravens ! all ! Cora, 1 will save, or perish with 
 you ! " and with a sudden bound Peace dashed up the broad 
 steps and disappeared amid the blinding smoke. 
 
 " Good God ! she will never come out again ! We were 
 cowards ! Let us try to save her ! " saiji a stout young farmer 
 from the crowd, and instantly three or four dashed over the 
 threshold. 
 
 How Peace gained the room occupied by Nurse Allen and 
 her charge she never knew ; it was enough that, unscathed, 
 unharmed by the terrible fire, she was there. Closing the door 
 behind her, she sunk down. The flames had not yet penetrated 
 the chamber ; but she heard a crackling along the panelled 
 passages, and the room was lurid with light streaming in 
 through the diamond-paned windows. 
 
 " Aunt Allen ! Cora ! " she cried faintly. 
 
 A low moan was the only reply fron|gthe old lady with head 
 bowed on the crib-side. A shake aroused Nurse Allen. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Peace ! but the fire, the terrible fire ! I couldn't 
 take my darling through it, and so we must all die here ! No- 
 body will come ! " and she covered her face with her hands. 
 
 " No ! no ! we must escape ! we can ! Come, come ! I 
 will open the windows, and shout. They can raise a ladder ! " 
 and Peace flung up the sash. 
 
 With a groan she shrank back. That avenue was cut off! 
 A pile of lumber that lay under the window, gathered for future 
 repairs on the mansion, had been fired by cinders whirled from 
 the flames ; and along a grape-vine embowering the whole 
 western side of the wing red tongues coiled rapidly. With a 
 groan, Peace dropped the sash ; while the fire leaped upward 
 till the glass crackled and snapped, then, enwreathing the
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 313 
 
 heavily carved window-mullions, hissed aloud as if in token 
 of their victory. 
 
 Beset on every side by the fierce fire-fiend, at the windows, 
 at the door, the brave girl's heart failed ; they must perish, 
 but they would die together ; and creeping close to the crib 
 where the sleeping child lay, she slid her scorched and blistered 
 hands into Nurse Allen's withered ones, and, bowing her head 
 on her shoulder, burst into tears. 
 
 That very appeal so mute, so helpless, aroused the old 
 lady. 
 
 " Poor young thing ! " and she pressed her lips to Peace's 
 forehead " poor dear girl ! You can't save us, then ! Oh, if 
 Mr. Lucien was.only here ! But there, don't take on so, dear ! 
 Perhaps we can get out. Come, come ! we mustn't stay here to 
 die ! Do you hear, child ? " 
 
 "No no!" groaned Peace. "We cannot escape! Don't 
 you see the terrible fire ? everywhere, everywhere ! Aunt 
 Allen, we must perish here ! " and convulsive shudders ran 
 through her frame. 
 
 " Die here ! perish here ! " repeated the old lady mechani- 
 cally " No ! no ! child, so young, so beautiful ! and my dar- 
 ling ? See, how like an angel she sleeps and not a soul 
 comes to save her ! Oh, Peace don't stay for a poor old 
 woman like me, but try to get Cora away ! Oh, you are young 
 and strong -- save my baby, for her father's sake ! " and she 
 shook Peace's arm franticly. 
 
 That appeal roused the despairing girl. For his sake for 
 Lucien Palfrey's sake, she would save his child, or perish ; and 
 then came a thought of her own father. That was the most 
 powerful stimulus. In an instant she was calm ; and with most 
 admirable prudence calculated her chances of escape. The 
 flooring had not yet fallen, nor the staircase, though the walls 
 
 27
 
 314 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 were burning. She must brave it. Seizing a couple of towels, 
 she dipped them into the water-ewer and wrung them slightly. 
 " Bind one about your mouth," she said to Nurse Allen, "it will 
 prevent suffocation," then, wrapping Cora in a blanket, cried. 
 " Now ! now ! here ! your hand ! " and threw open the door. 
 
 But the old lady sank down. " No no ! I'm a poor use- 
 less old creetur and shall only be a drag on you. Maybe the 
 good Lord'll send somebody after me if He don't, I can die 
 here. I'm almost worn out and it don't matter much. You 
 are young and strong you stand a chance to get out. There, 
 let me kiss my baby once more " and she bent her withered 
 lips to the soft coral mouth of the sleeper, then folded the 
 blanket over her head "there, go now! The Lord'll help 
 you ! Tell Mr. Lucien " 
 
 "Aunt Allen, God can save us all! " said Peace with sudden 
 inspiration. " I will ot stir one step without you. Shall we 
 stay here and burn to death or will you come ? There 
 that is right hold fast don't let go my arm remember ! " 
 and she crossed the threshold ; and, clasping little Cora to her 
 breast with one arm, with her free hand felt her way along 
 the galleries, while Nurse Allen's clutch was firm about her 
 waist. 
 
 On, on, she hastened, the flames close at her side, their hot 
 tongues licking her outstretched hands. At last Cora awoke, 
 and struggled to free herself from the smothering folds of the 
 blanket. Withdrawing her outstretched hands from the contact 
 of the wall to clasp the child closer, and still keeping on her 
 perilous way, Peace suddenly encountered an open door swung 
 outward into the gallery. Confused and almost stunned by the 
 blow, and murmuring faintly, " God help us ! I can go no fur- 
 ther ! " she sank, with a rushing, roaring sound, as of a thousand 
 waters, in her ears.
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 315 
 
 In her last moment of consciousness one palpable idea stirred 
 the surface of her darkening brain "I am dying ! " and 
 three faces, slowly revolving and blending like the wreathing 
 smoke-folds, floated mistily before her vision two, the pictured 
 countenances on the miniature, and Lucien Palfrey's. 
 
 Shifting, wreathing, twining, blending, they flitted athwart 
 her vision ; then a dark, blank, black wall shut down before her. 
 All senses were submerged into that of hearing ; she listened to 
 many voices even a great multitude ; again that wild rush, 
 as of a mighty waterfall, rose louder and higher, then died into 
 faintest rippling cadences ; and, while softest music-strains 
 the chiming of silver bells, and the notes of fairy horns, blended 
 in mellowest waves of sound, she seemed sinking, sinking, into 
 grateful, cooling waters, fathoms deep away !
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 " Secure in undiscovered crime, 
 
 The callous soul grows bold at length. 
 Stern Justice sometimes bides her time, 
 But strikes at last with double strength." 
 
 IT was a wild, wet, starless night the last of the dying 
 month of June. For three days the rain had been incessant 
 one of those chill storms that sometimes seem to blow from out 
 the departed spring, bringing their cold winds and sullen rains 
 into the heart of the summer. In the country, the earth was 
 water-soaked, and vegetation grew rank and luxuriant ; grass 
 waved in tangled, sodden masses ; clover-blossoms were matted 
 together ; white rose-petals lay limp and torn on the earth ; 
 birds huddled together, shivering ; kine stood knee-deep in the 
 marshes ; tall elms swayed their dripping branches to and fro ; 
 melancholy, ancient willows drooped their ragged foliage all 
 along the country roadsides ; children waded through pools in 
 the highway ; and the farmers came out, and, looking anxiously 
 toward the sullen west, wondered when it would " fair off." 
 
 City dwellers, too, wearied of the long rain. For three days 
 the streets had been untrodden save by eager business men, or 
 that strata of city population, the children of poverty, who seem 
 oblivious to change of wind or weather. By night, the glare of 
 gas only lighted black, slimy pavements, almost deserted save by 
 the watchmen on their rounds. 
 
 At midnight, alone in his room, at a small table drawn up 
 before the coal fire which the dampness of the atmosphere ren- 
 dered grateful, sat the man of evil Hugh Golding. An air 
 1316)
 
 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 317 
 
 of the greatest seclusion and quiet pervaded the apartment. 
 Heavy curtains fell over the windows ; the thick carpet gave no 
 echo ; the door was double locked ; and, save a slight metallic 
 ring, as of the rasping or filing of steel, from the table where 
 Golding sat, no sound broke the stillness. Upon the table where 
 a large lamp with three burners shed down a strong glare, lay a 
 buckskin case and several tiny instruments of steel, an impres- 
 sion of a key in wax, a bunch of keys, and a small, crumpled bit 
 of paper evidently a portion of a receipt or bill of sale, with 
 the signature torn across. 
 
 Golding was busily at work upon a small key alternately 
 filing it with the greatest nicety of touch, then fitting it to the 
 wax impression, and holding it up between his eyes and the 
 strong light, as if to detect the slightest flaw in his workmanship. 
 For half an hour he sat thus at his task ; and then, applying it 
 once again to the wax, an exultant exclamation proclaimed his 
 success. Then, placing the key and the bit of torn paper in his 
 pocket-book, returning the tiny files and saws to their case, 
 bringing a cloak from the closet in the pocket of which he laid 
 the bunch of keys with the buckskin pouch, throwing the wax 
 impression into the burning grate, and carefully brushing every 
 particle of steel-dust from the table, he turned down the lamp- 
 shade, then rapidly walked the floor. A smile of triumph sat on 
 his curling lip. 
 
 In his life, Hugh Golding had wrought much evil, and always 
 with the impunity of success. The code of the world's laws had 
 not reached him yet. 
 
 "There is no such word as fail/" he cried exultingly, pacing 
 the carpet. " Hugh Golding has not lived forty years, to plot 
 any undertaking without the certainty of success ! " 
 
 And this was, in a measure, true. Long journeys in the 
 paths of evil had made him bold, but they had rendered him 
 
 27*
 
 318 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 none the less cautious. Cunning, fiendish cunning, was the true 
 exponent of his nature. 
 
 " Triumph at last ! " he whispered exultingly "a royal tri- 
 umph ! at one dash to free myself from this cursed beggary 
 for it is little better, these uncertain winnings at the gaming 
 table then, gaining a princely fortune, slip the halter from my 
 own neck to fasten i*^ around Revere's ! Yes, Revere ! --when 
 Julie Courtney became your wife, I vowed revenge and now 
 the hour has come ! No man steps between me and my pur- 
 poses, and escapes me. But I have no time to idle here. Half- 
 past twelve ! " and he drew forth his jewelled lever, then put 
 aside the heavy curtain and glanced down into the street "and 
 it is dark as Erebus, too ! Just the night everything con- 
 spires to favor me the Charlies will be snugly boxed in this 
 storm ! Now, Hugh Golding/' and he paused before a mir- 
 ror "now, nerves of iron and a will of steel, and three hours 
 hence you hold your fortune in your own hand ; and the man you 
 hate is doomed ! " 
 
 Then he brought out a dark slouched hat from an inner dress- 
 ing closet. This, with the ample cloak under which he con- 
 cealed a small dark lantern, completed his disguise ; and noise- 
 lessly unlocking his door and re-locking it on the outside, he 
 glided along the quiet, dimly lighted galleries of the hotel, and 
 slipped stealthily out, unencountered, into the dark, rainy night.' 
 
 When the city clocks struck tliree, the merchant Revere stole 
 like a guilty man into the hall of his mansion. All was dark, 
 for the gas had been turned down and the porter had sought his 
 bed long before ; and, amid the thick gloom and the noise of 
 plashing rain upon the marble steps, the merchant heard not the 
 stealthy tread of feet close behind his own, nor saw the form 
 that followed him over the threshold and into the dimly lighk-d
 
 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 319 
 
 library, secreting itself among the voluminous curtains of a deep 
 bay windoAV. Lighting a waxen taper in the mantel candelabra, 
 Revere threw his cloak dripping with rain, on a sota, drew on a 
 rich dressing-gown, then flung himself into a large arm-chair 
 before the grate, whence the fire smouldered. 
 
 His face was fearfully wild and haggard^ dark circles rimmed 
 his eyes ; Despair was gnawing at his heart-strings. The preci- 
 pice on which for the past few months he had stood, was crum- 
 bling beneath his feet ; in vain he stretched out his hands for a 
 shrub whereat he might grasp to stay his fall for, that ifight, 
 he had thrown his last dollar at the gaming table. He was 
 ruined ! and the morrow would behold him disgraced ! Men 
 would point at him and say, " Behold the gambler ! Behold the 
 bankrupt ! " Such a morrow was in store for him ; and the 
 good name which no man resigns without a pang, and which in 
 that hour seemed far more precious to the ruined merchant than 
 aught else on earth that name must go down forever ! 
 
 " Ruined ! ruined ! " and he smote his forehead. " It has 
 come to this at last ! I have battled the tide like a drowning 
 man, but must sink ! Oh, Gaming ! Gaming ! Fiend that sat 
 there night after night, tempting me with blood-red wine, and 
 beckoning me on with golden fingers to my ruin ! Oh, devil, 
 are you satisfied now ? Can wine drown memory ? can it 
 bring forgetfulness ? " and pouring a brimming goblet, he 
 drank it off in great gulps. Then he leaned his elbows on the 
 table, and buried his face in his hands. 
 
 " To-morrow ! to-morrow ! " he shuddered ; then, after a long 
 pause, he lifted his countenance, deadly pale, and said slowly, 
 " But why need that morrow ever dawn for me ? This will free 
 me ! " and he drew forth a dark substance from his vest 
 pocket. " It has brought me forgetfulness - it can bring me a 
 longer, an eternal sleep! JSternal? do I believe that? But
 
 320 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 pshaw ! if there is a future, can it be worse for me than the 
 fate buried in the coming morrow ? I would dare death but 
 I will not meet any man's scorn ! They shall not throw my dis- 
 grace in my teeth ! This will forestall my fate ! A double 
 dose a benumbing torpor a deathly, lethargy and it is 
 over ! No disgrace^ no scorn no pity ! By Heaven ! I 
 
 could not bear that I will have no man's d d pity ! 
 
 Death death ! it is at best but a leap in the dark, and he is 
 a coward who hesitates to take it ! Why should I ? what 
 matters it, a few years sooner or later ? I shall break no heart ; 
 not an eye will weep for me ; and, if Julie ever comes forth 
 again into the world, she can but rejoice that I have freed her 
 from my disagreeable presence. Poor Julie ! " and a quiver 
 of tenderness broke up the iron sternness of his voice " poor 
 Julie ! she will be better off without me I, who have so 
 crushed life's roses from her pathway ! And yet, how she loved 
 me ! how she loved me ! " and he rose and leaned his fore- 
 head against the mantel. 
 
 His vest was open j- and, as he rose, the cord from his dressing- 
 gown loosened, and something fell upon the hearth with a sharp 
 metallic ring. He started as if an adder had stung him, stooped 
 to recover it, and carried a small miniature set in a golden 
 casing to his lips ; while the form behind the window-hangings 
 glided forth. 
 
 Gazing a moment upon the locket, Revere covered his face 
 with his hands, and burst into tears. Not wilder was the 
 elemental strife without than the burst of emotion that shook 
 that strong man's frame. Weak as a very child, he sank back 
 into his chair ; while the form glided back into the muffling 
 shadows of the curtain. 
 
 " No, no ! I cannot ! " murmured the ruined man in a hoarse 
 voice. " The dead forbid it ! " and he shuddered. " Dead
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 321 
 
 dead but how do I know that? Yesterday, in her bloom and 
 beauty she stood before me!" and a superstitious thrill ran 
 through his frame " and now, her pictured face, so sweet, so 
 young, so reproachful, forbids this deed ! " 
 
 " Mary Mary I obey ! Come ruin come disgrace 
 I will not add to my sins and weaknesses the crime of a 
 suicide ! " and he flung the deadly drug into the grate ; re- 
 turned the locket to his bosom ; and, taking up a light, went into 
 an adjoining chamber whose door stood ajar and threw himself 
 upon a bed, and the figure in the muffling shadows still kept 
 its station. 
 
 The morning broke bright and beautiful, and the city was 
 early astir. At every corner groups were collected ; and men 
 talked in low tones of a bold and successful burglary committed 
 the previous night. Newsboys hawked their wares in shrill 
 voices morning papers were at a premium, for the following 
 startling development greeted every peruser : 
 
 GREAT ROBBERY! 
 
 "Five Thousand Dollars Reward ! Last night the 
 
 Bank was broken open, and a most daring burglary successfully 
 perpetrated in our midst, The following amount was taken : 
 Twelve square boxes of silver, $500 each ; six bags of silver, 
 ft,')U<> to $400 each; package, or bag of gold, $4,500; package 
 of sovereigns, $5,000 ; package of foreign bills (amount un- 
 known) directed to , from Bank. 
 
 For the detection or apprehension of the burglar, the Presi- 
 dent of the Bank offers a reward of Five Thousand Dollars. 
 
 The - Bank is situated in the basement of the new 
 
 hotel, which forms a part of the block recently erected on 
 
 C Street. The block is unfinished and unoccupied ; and 
 
 the vault of the Bank adjoins one of the lower rooms of the 
 hotel, only separated from it by a brick wall one foot thick. The 
 mortar used in the construction of this wall is comparatively
 
 322 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN 
 
 fresh ; and the burglar must have first entered the room adjoin- 
 ing the vault, and with a small crow-bar forced away the bricks 
 sufficiently to afford an entrance. 
 
 The plundered property was secured in a safe of the most 
 approved construction, fastened by Hall's celebrated patent gun- 
 powder lock, which was opened by a key that must have been 
 prepared before the safe was put into the vault. When the 
 booty had been removed, the safe was coolly locked again." 
 
 That afternoon, upon a minute inspection of the vault by the 
 Chief of the Police, accompanied by the Bank officers, a bit of 
 folded paper, half-worn and trampled, was picked up from the 
 earth. But few words, torn and half-erased, were inscribed 
 thereon but those words, that name, were sufficiently plain to 
 the Argus eyes of the officer. 
 
 Half an hour after, a carriage stopped before the mercantile 
 house of Augustus Revere ; and, as he sat in his inner counting- 
 room, a heavy hand was laid upon his shoulder. 
 
 " Mr. Revere, I arrest you on charge of the Bank 
 
 robbery ! You are my prisoner ! " 
 
 " Good God ! am I going mad ? " groaned the unhappy man, 
 as, without a show of resistance, he suffered himself to be led 
 passively to the door.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 What deep wounds ever closed without a scar * 
 The heart's bleed longest, and but heal to wear 
 That which disfigures it. 
 
 CHILDE HAKOLD. 
 
 LUCIEN PALFREY ! one whose character I shall find it diffi- 
 cult to describe, a compound of contrarieties, apparently a 
 cold, polished, brilliant man of the world, omitting in his 
 daily intercourse with that world, yet inwardly despising, 'the 
 thousand thousand forms and shows that go to make up what is 
 called " Society '* those shallow, heartless conventionalities, 
 that are but masks for our feelings, or, rather, ignore all feeling, 
 making life cold, hollow, measured, artificial ! 
 
 In old Nurse Allen's revelation to Peace, we have a knowl- 
 edge of what sent him a saddened, remorseful man, self- 
 exiled from his home ; let us explore his past life more minutely. 
 
 It had been his misfortune to be the only child of parents, 
 whose thoughts, pursuits, and dispositions were antagonistic to 
 his own. His father was a merchant whose whole soul was 
 absorbed in the acquirement of wealth, whose life a daily rou- 
 tine from his palatial mansion on Fifth Avenue to his counting- 
 house, and from his counting-house to his mansion again. His 
 mother was one of those women so commonly met with natu- 
 rally a sweet, dependent, lovable being, whose fitting sphere is 
 in the home circle but, from being a millionaire's wife, had 
 got out of that sphere, and, in the world of splendor and fash- 
 ionable gayety, had forgotten her mother-cares and wasted her 
 life. 
 
 (323)
 
 324 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 The wealthy merchant's wife had a position to maintain. 
 John Palfrey could not spare time from bale and invoice and 
 shipping lists to frequent routs and balls ; but Mrs. Palfrey had 
 an elegant equipage, splendid mansion, and she must, perforce, be 
 the representative of the moneyed man. 
 
 Had Lucy Palfrey possessed more strength of character, she 
 would have put off the fetters that, though gilded, galled her 
 none the less, and found her happiness, as every true woman 
 should, beside her own hearthstone ; but, enervated by the luxu- 
 ries and lured by the temptations of her position, she resigned 
 herself to the tide of fashionable dissipation. 
 
 With her- great wealth, it might have been her privilege to 
 carry happiness into the homes of the many poor to banish 
 Want and Hunger and Suffering from countless humble hearth- 
 stones in the great city ; but the delicate lady could not be 
 shocked by contact with misery and, from never visiting, she 
 gradually ignored the existence of that great class whose lives 
 were not cast in earth's " pleasant places." Nor was this, that 
 she was avaricious that beautiful lady oh no ! If a street 
 beggar caught her silken robes as she descended from her ele- 
 gant carriage, imploring charity, she unloosed her purse and 
 bestowed its contents bounteously on the* " shocking creature ; " 
 her name stood first on the list of foreign mission endowments 
 and charity fairs ; she read prayers every Sabbath in a stately 
 frescoed church from a jewelled prayer-bok and, kneeling 
 on a velvet hassock, made audible responses ; alas, that within 
 a stone's throw of her mansion jvandered the poor and starving, 
 and Want and holloweyed Hunger kept grim guard in many 
 miserable homes where her charity had never penetrated ! 
 
 And <o her days went by ; and Lueien grew into youth with 
 very few demonstrations that he had a mother, save remem- 
 brances of her daily visits to the nursery, where Aunt Allen
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 325 
 
 a hale, hearty woman tended him when a child, and of her 
 pettings and praises as he grew into beautiful boyhood and spent 
 his school vacations at home ; and, when he had attained his 
 eighteenth year, that mother, who, in the prime of her years, 
 should have been also in the prime of her strength and vigor^ 
 summoned her son to the bed where she lay, wasted, wan, 
 exhausted by her mistaken life exhausted, and dying ! 
 
 Oh woman, woman ! why will you lie prostrate under the 
 crushing wheels of that modern Juggernaut the gilded car of 
 Fashion ? 
 
 Such lives to live ! such deaths to die ! 
 
 Endowed by your Maker with tender hearts laden with all 
 sweet, womanly impulses, dowried with physical health and 
 mental vigor why, because the boon of Wealth is added to 
 other gifts, will you sit idly down with listless folded hands, 
 ignoring alike hand labor, brain labor, and heart-impulses, and 
 sink at last puny, exhausted, half-developed beings into 
 early graves ? 
 
 Women, Who transform yourselves into mere puppet-shows 
 of capricious Fashion lounging away the days in luxurious 
 drawing-rooms or in softly-cushioned carriages, and whirling in 
 demoralizing, but fashionable dances, the hours of the night 
 mothers, who give over into careless hands precious children 
 with tender, plastic minds wherein shall be sown the seeds of 
 good or evil for future reaping was it for this, the Creator 
 made tender hearts, and beautiful physical endowments, and rich 
 mental gifts ? 
 
 Oh shame, shame, that, in these days of coveted " women's 
 rights " and immunities in these days of hollow, gilded pomp 
 and show too many forget that the public arena, the fashion- 
 able promenade, the applause of the multitude, bring never to 
 
 28
 
 326 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 woman's ear music so sweet or praise so grateful as the tender 
 voices and loving glances of the " world of love at home ! " 
 
 Blessed thrice " blessed, are the beloved ! " 
 
 Lucien Palfrey left his mother's death-bed a sad-hearted 
 dreamer of eighteen. A dreamer ? no ! he had been such 
 since his earliest boyhood, but he awoke then ! He had dearly 
 loved his mother ; and in her last hours, awakening to a keenest 
 sense of her wasted life, she strove to compensate for her neg- 
 lect ; then the fountain was unsealed, and the strong mother-love 
 overflowed. 
 
 But she died and suddenly ! stricken down, as she had 
 lived, in the whirl of gayety, the jewels scarce removed from 
 her white fingers, and the hectic flush still crimson on her 
 cheek ; and, in that death-hour, a startling revelation gathered 
 from her incoherent murmurings, and an old faded miniature 
 which she drew from its long-concealed resting-place over her 
 heart and pressed passionately to her lips in the ravings of de- 
 lirium, with vehement calls for " dear, dear "William " told 
 Lucien Palfrey the secret of his mother's wasted life. 
 
 It was the old story over again. Lucy Darrah had loved a 
 poor student youth of her native village, Iwit her beauty and 
 ambition were her bane. The rich man came and won her ; for 
 a splendid home she bartered herself, crushed her heart's plead- 
 ings, and gave back her betrothal ring. But in her dying hour, 
 when all life's gauds and tinsels fled, she was true to her first 
 faith. Ever, in Death, as hi dreams, the heart returns to its 
 first, purest love. 
 
 " Alas, for Love, if thou wert all, 
 And nought beyond, oh Earth ! " 
 
 And when Lucien Palfrey kissed his mother's pale, sharpened 
 features in her coffin, and turned away to brood over her wrecked,
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. .327 
 
 wasted life, he said, shuddering, " Gold won her. Let me be 
 loved for myself, solely * never for rny wealth ! " 
 
 But, in his first love-dream, the dreamer was destined to find 
 unhappiness. Eight years from the period of his mother's 
 death, his collegiate education and profession gained, he estab- 
 lished himself at the old family mansion at Springdale ; not 
 that application to the duties of his profession was necessary as 
 a means of livelihood for his father, dying three years previ- 
 ous, bequeathed his only son a fortune almost princely, but 
 to a mind constituted like Lucien Palfrey's a sensitive and 
 finely-wrought organization, that preyed upon itself if unoccu- 
 pied the cares and duties of the life he had chosen were a 
 healthy stimulant. Then and there, amid a bevy of gay young 
 creatures assembled to pass a few summer weeks at the country 
 seat of a neighbor, the young physician met her whose bright 
 jetty eyes and braids of raven hair wove a dangerous snare 
 about his heart. Jenny Ogden was unmistakably a belle and a 
 beauty a dazzling, brilliant, piquant brunette ; Rumor also had 
 voted her a flirt ; and it was scarcely strange that from his 
 first interview, where, radiant with graceful animation, she suc- 
 cessfully parried the shafts of wit, ensnaring men's hearts the 
 while by flashing glance and brilliant repartee Lucien Palfrey 
 went away, irrecoverably her victim. 
 
 Jenny Ogden was the daughter of a widowed mother one 
 of those manoeuvring mammas who, without the substance of 
 wealth, contrive to preserve its semblance, and whose manage- 
 ment had procured " eligible " matches for two married daugh- 
 ters ; now, it remained but to " settle " Jenny as mistress of a 
 wealthy husband's establishment, and then the adroit mamma 
 would retire on her -laurels. Nor was the ambitious daughter 
 averse to her parent's plan ; for Jenay knew as what woman, 
 dowried like her, does not? that she was beautiful, and
 
 328 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 from her earliest girlhood one preeminent lesson had been im- 
 pressed upon her mind " Your face must make your fortune." 
 
 Here then, when, in a few weeks from their meeting, Lucien 
 Palfrey was at her feet here, then, was the goal for which she 
 had striven. A young, elegant and refined lover, possessing 
 every advantage of wealth and station, tremblingly awaited the 
 affirmative decision that would render him the "happiest of 
 men," which decision was blushingly given, after a deal of 
 affected tearful regrets at the prospect of a separation from 
 " mamma," who, meantime, was secretly congratulating herself 
 at this chef d? ouvre of maternal " management." 
 
 After a brief engagement, a brilliant wedding followed ; and 
 the papers chronicled the departure of the happy couple to a 
 fashionable watering place, where the remnant of the season was 
 whirled away in a round of gayety quite consonant to the mer- 
 curial temperament of the young bride. Then came a winter 
 of dissipation "in town, for Jenny had no idea of immuring her 
 beautiful face in the seclusion of Springdale ; but the spring 
 months found them installed in their country home, Palfrey 
 eagerly lapsing into his more congenial professional career. 
 
 Then the excitements of gay society removed, and Jenny 
 as mistress of a quiet country mansion the young husband was 
 not long in awakening to a full sense of the aims and tastes of 
 her he had taken to his heart as his life-long companion. I need 
 not quote here the hackneyed, but none the less truthful adage, 
 " Marry hi haste, and repent at leisure," which perhaps the 
 reader begins to imagine was fully appreciated by Dr. Palfrey 
 for hi truth this was not so. Even with the knowledge of' 
 Jenny's superficial, heartless nature daily growing upon him, he 
 did not repent his marriage for he had loved with all the 
 depth of his tender, sensitive nature, and could -not easily recall 
 or smother those affections ; yet it pained him inexpressibly that
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 329 
 
 i 
 
 the beautiful fabric of domestic happiness he had builded was 
 fast crumbling into dust. 
 
 In the days of his courtship, Lucien Palfrey had mistaken 
 Jenny's gayety and sparkling brilliancy for true womanly vivac- 
 ity and amiability ; he did not ask himself, " Will she gladly 
 resign a skirmish at wit with her gallant admirers for a cozy fire- 
 side tete-a-tete with her husband, or the crowded saloon for her 
 own hearthstone ? " But now he was not long in discover- 
 ing that Jenny Palfrey she who had reigned belle of the ball- 
 room, the cynosure of all eyes whether at rout, theatre, dinner 
 party, or promenade, the past winter was transformed into a 
 very different being in her quiet country home. 
 
 " Would she read ? " and he brought her the treasures of 
 old poets or the lighter publications of the day. She only 
 pouted, " Oh dear, reading is so stupid ! " " Would she sing ? 
 and he opened the ma"ssive piano, or led her to her harp. 
 " No she had a stupid headache ; besides, there was nobody 
 but Lucien to hear her ! " " Would she stroll in the old forests 
 where the spring flowers bloomed and velvet, emerald mosses 
 carpeted the long aisles ? " " Dear, no ! what did Lucien think 
 she cared for the woods, where she always encountered snakes 
 and frightful things ? " " She should die she knew she 
 should imprisoned in that lonesome old place ! If Lucien had 
 ever loved her, as he professed, he would never have brought 
 her out there ! Nobody had left the city nor would they, for 
 two months to come ! She should perish of the blues, before 
 then ! " 
 
 Lucien sighed, and turned away. 
 
 Summer came a portion of which was made endurable, 
 even pleasant to Jenny, by filling the old mansion with invited 
 guests, and the Hall was alive with gayety; a bevy of young 
 creatures, foremost among whom was the volatile hostess, ran- 
 
 28*
 
 330 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 | 
 
 sacking old wardrobes for masquerades and tableaux costumes 
 ornamenting the garden for fetes champetres or planning 
 pic-nics and fishing excursions. But guests could not remain 
 always ; and when they left for the watering-places, and Jenny's 
 pourings and yawns could not persuade Palfrey into following 
 them, then she relapsed into her old habits, and the great house 
 became duller than ever. Moping about the deserted rooms, 
 or, wrapped .in a great shawl, lying on the sofa for hours 
 together, she dozed time away ; and if Lucien ventured to re- 
 monstrate against her course, urging her to accompany him on 
 his rides or interest herself in some pursuit or study, her only 
 reply was'a burst of childish tears, varied by sullen pouting or, 
 worse still, chilling indifference. 
 
 Where now the fine visions of domestic felicity " the dreamer " 
 had woven ? Coming day after day wearied from his round of 
 visits for a wide circuit of country was unusually sickly, and 
 Dr. Palfrey, like many another conscientious physician, too 
 Christian and humane to deny a poor man's call coming home 
 to a darkened, close drawing-room, or going up stairs to find 
 Jenny on a lounge in her boudoir dozing over old novels from 
 the library, with scarce a kindly greeting for her husband it 
 was perfectly disheartening. Expostulation had failed the 
 kindest attentions won but the poorest acknowledgment, often 
 none and Dr. Palfrey had too much dignity and self-respect 
 to answer her with reproaches. Heart-sick, he was forced to 
 the admission that the wife of his bosom was one of those being.s 
 who cannot be said to exist save under excitement one of 
 those fire-flies in fashionable life, who dazzle and lure by 
 night, but become the merest insect by the light of common 
 day. 
 
 Then came a maddening thought, which, spite of his strict 
 resolve to "love and cherish," would intrude upon his brain.
 
 PEACE : OK THE STOLEN WILL. 331 
 
 " Did not Jenny wed me for my wealth ? " With bitter groans 
 he strove to pluck it out, and trample it into annihilation. 
 
 When little Cora's blue eyes first opened to light in the sweet 
 May-time while the violet and star-flower were blossoming in 
 the woodland haunts about their pleasant country home, the 
 happy father, kissing Jenny's pale cheek, exclaimed fervently, 
 " God has bestowed upon us a precious gift. For her sake, let 
 us dedicate .ourselves to a nobler, better life ! " and the young 
 mother seemed gentler, tender, more womanly. 
 
 City friends drove qut to Springdale in their elegant barouches 
 to see the beautiful babe that lay in state in old Nurse Allen's 
 arms, enveloped in the daintiest of embroidered slips and silken 
 flannels kissed its tiny red mouth, and pulled open its rose- 
 leaf eyelids " just to see if it had mother's eyes," then, nib- 
 bling their rich cake and sipping their wines, recounted this or 
 that event in the past fashionable season Madame Ton's 
 charming fancy ball, the debut of some new actress, or the en- 
 gagement of some prima donna; and while this lasted, and 
 Jenny, with the faintest rose-tinge on her rounded cheek, and in 
 the prettiest of silken wrappers, received their praises of " baby," 
 and then, in August, Lucien took them herself, baby, nurse 
 and all, to a fashionable resort, and baby proved " good," and 
 the blooming mother was a belle, taking the palm from her un- 
 married rivals months glided pleasantly. 
 
 But the cold weather brought them home again ; and Novem- 
 ber, with its dreary winds, bleak skies, and sere woods, had few 
 attractions for country visitors, and the little Cora few admirers 
 save old Nurse Allen and the equally venerable housekeeper 
 and began to show unequivocal symptoms of being " cross," as 
 babies have doubtless done, and will do, through all time then, 
 the cares of motherhood did not sit so lightly on the giddy Jenny. 
 She longed to mingle once again in that great world whose
 
 332 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 echoes, only, reached her in her seclusion. " She would not 
 remain buried all winter in that old mansion ! Lucien must take 
 a house in town ! " 
 
 In vain Dr. Palfrey remonstrated; well foreseeing that, if 
 they again went forth into a city life, he must, perforce, resign 
 his new-found lease of tranquillity. 
 
 " Little Cora is too young ; besides, I cannot leave my 
 patients," were some among his objections. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " urged Jenny. " Do you think I shall neglect 
 my child ? As for your patients, you ca,n ride down to Spring- 
 dale once or twice every week. Of course you cannot expect to 
 visit eveiy old woman who has the rheumatism, or every child 
 who chances to be attacked with the measles or croup. Better 
 leave that field to your rival Dr. Dinsmore ! The idea of a 
 man of your wealth tying himself down to a profession ! It is 
 perfectly absurd! I am resolved upon going into town this 
 winter ! " and so Jenny gained her point. 
 
 An elegant house was taken in a fashionable square. By day, 
 Jenny's carriage stood oftenest before Stewart's, or Ball and 
 Black's, while the obsequious clerks displayed their choicest 
 fabrics or costliest jewels ; and by night, after a flying visit to 
 the nursery, she was borne away to rout or theatre, or received 
 in her own drawing-rooms her dear five hundred friends. 
 
 Ladies envied and emulated her ; gentlemen paid their com- 
 pliments to the sparkling Mrs. Palfrey, and ' vowed the doctor 
 a lucky dog.' For a season he submitted, with " From her 
 seclusion, Jenny enjoys society with a double zest ; " but after a 
 period it became annoying, galling even, to be forced to attend 
 her into scenes so uncongenial. Then he remonstrated. 
 
 " If not to gratify your husband, at least in consideration of 
 your own health, Jenny, and for the sake of our child, withdraw 
 in a measure from this excessive dissipation."
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 333 
 
 " Nonsense, Lucien ! ' Excessive dissipation ? ' You mag- 
 nify .everything ! Little Cora is doing well enough only cut- 
 ting her teeth, that's all ! As for myself, I was never better ; 
 but I do believe you're getting to be a perfect Grand Turk 
 and, did I choose to humor your whims, I should deny myself 
 every gratification of society. Now, if you don't wish to accom- 
 pany me abroad, I shall go alone ; then, everybody will know 
 what a Bluebeard I have for a husband ! " 
 
 In such a fashion, remonstrances were usually received. 
 
 In February the Italian Opera was to open with the advent 
 of a famed cantatrice ; and" not only in musical circles was the 
 excitement intense, but the world of fashion eagerly anticipated 
 the brilliance and display of the operatic season ; Jenny Palfrey, 
 among others of " her set," impatiently awaiting the opening 
 night. 
 
 Three days previous, a letter was handed to Dr. Palfrey at 
 
 ^ 
 dinner. 
 
 " It is from Uncle Ben's physician," he said after a perusal. 
 " The old gentleman is just alive. I must leave in th6 next 
 train, and possibly may reach Hartford before it is too late ! " 
 and ringing for his man, Lucien ordered his valise to be packed 
 and in a half-hour, kissing his wife and child, was borne to 
 the depot. 
 
 " Dear me, how vexing ! " exclaimed Jenny as she went up 
 to the nursery. " I'll warrant every ticket'll be taken up before 
 his return ! Lucien is so negligent ! Uncle Ben dying ? I 
 don't believe a word of it ! Only a fit of the gout and Lucien 
 must needs post off to Hartford ! For my part, I believe he 
 thinks more of Uncle Ben than he did of his own father ! Dear 
 me ! I'm fated not to hear Zada sing ! " 
 
 This was ' on Satui'day. Three days passed ; and not until 
 five o'clock of Tuesday afternoon did Dr. Palfrey again enter
 
 331 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 his home. Then his saddened countenance told the loss of his 
 dearly-loved old uncle his last maternal relative. 
 
 Looking into the drawing-room, Jenny was not there, and he 
 quickly ascended to the nursery. 
 
 " Good evening, wife ! and how is little Cora ? " was his 
 first exclamation, as he drew aside the lace curtains from the 
 cradle where the babe slept sweetly. " I did not think to be 
 absent so long ; but, poor Uncle Ben ! " and he sighed. " I 
 found him very low and he lingered along till Sunday night. 
 The funeral was this morning. But what is the matter, 
 Jenny ? " and his eye fell upon the dishevelled hair and dis- 
 orderly wrapper of his pouting wife. " Are you ill, dear ? " 
 
 " Matter enough ! " she exclaimed pettishly. " I declare, it 
 is enough to provoke a saint ! here every Opera ticket is 
 taken up, and " she tapped her slippered foot angrily. 
 
 " The Opera ! " and Dr. Palfrey opened his dark eyes in 
 surprise, then exclaimed in a severe voice, " Mrs. Palfrey, are 
 you in your senses ? I thought I informed you that Uncle Ben 
 do you understand ? my only relative was buried this 
 morning ; and since when, I would inquire, has it been custom- 
 ary, or in consonance with common feeling, even, for people to 
 frequent places of amusement when a death is of .recent occur- 
 rence in their families ? Jenny, I am grieved and astonished ! " 
 
 "Mr. Palfrey,"- and Jenny's passion carried her beyond the 
 bounds of prudence, and her tone was bitterly sarcastic, " please 
 not elevate your voice beyond its accustomed key. I am not 
 conscious of suddenly losing my sense of hearing ; nor do I see 
 why the death of your uncle, whom I never saw and whose 
 character, so far as I may judge by his nephew's representa- 
 tions, was that of a whimsical, eccentric old misanthrope need 
 plunge me into mourning all the rest of my days ! As for the 
 mourning part, though I can't imagine, for my life, how lis-
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 335 
 
 tening to an Italian Opera for a few hours could transform pie 
 into the heartless wretch your words seem to imply me as being ! 
 It isn't that ! I believe it is solely because you like to exert 
 your masculine prerogative of power, that you are thus con- 
 stantly thwarting my wishes ! Lucien Palfrey, it has been so 
 ever since I became your wife ! You have invariably kept up 
 this system of conjugal tyranny objected to every reasonable 
 pleasure 1 I had better entered a convent than married you 
 for I believe nuns are allowed the privilege of attending prayers 
 and mass ! " and she angrily sent the footstool spinning across 
 the room. 
 
 Dr. Palfrey was shocked. Never before had he witnessed 
 such an ebullition of passion, nor heard words so devoid of all 
 womanly delicacy or feeling from her lips. And she who had 
 uttered them now, with angry eye and flushed cheek that 
 speaker was one he had so loved, so trusted his wife ! 
 
 "Jenny! ' but, pale as death with suppressed indignation 
 and wounded feeling, he checked the words hovering on his lips. 
 He durst not trust himself. Had he uttered what rushed to his 
 
 
 
 tongue, he could never have forgiven himself afterwards ; and he 
 turned and was quietly leaving the apartment. 
 
 As he crossed the threshold, a light ring came at the bell ; 
 and the porter admitted a young married lady who lived next 
 door an intimate associate of Jenny who familiarly ascended 
 the staircase. 
 
 " Ah, good evening, Dr. Palfrey ! " exclaimed Mrs. Vincent 
 in a lively voice. " Now do you know that I'm sorry you've 
 returned ? for I had such a pleasant surprise for your wife ! 
 I knew how she had counted 'on this Opera, and had actually 
 promised her to a gentleman friend for the evening, knowing 
 that you would be too late in procuring tickets. You see, Belle 
 Doane the young lady who's been visiting me, you know
 
 336 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 had accepted an invitation, and our party was made up, when 
 what should come but a telegraphic despatch that took her off to 
 Albany not a half-hour ago a brother's wife or child, I believe 
 it -is, lies very ill and so I took the liberty of saying that, 
 as Dr. Palfrey was absent, I would ask his wife to make one of 
 our party. But I forgot you left town to visit a sick 
 friend, I believe. Did he recover ? " she asked, observing for 
 the first time his saddened, pale features. 
 
 "It was my uncle, madam. He is dead!" replied Palfrey 
 sternly. 
 
 "Dear me I did not suppose I beg pardon," said the 
 gay woman in subdued tones. " Then Jenny would not " 
 
 " Ah, Mrs. Vincent, is that you ? And what were you saying 
 about the Opera ? Come for me to join the party ? Certainly, 
 I should be delighted ! Come in here ! " and Jenny appeared 
 in the nursery door that had stood slightly ajar. 
 
 The lady looked hesitatingly toward Dr. Palfrey, who stood at 
 the head of the staircase where they had met. There was an 
 expression on his face she could not fathom. " Plea?e walk in, 
 Mrs. Vincent," and he Avaved her courteously toward the open 
 door. " Mrs. Palfrey knows my wishes ! " he added briefly, 
 with his foot on the first stair. 
 
 Jenny's face flushed. Her angry, fiery blood was lip in her 
 veins. " How freezing his voice was," she thought. " ' She 
 knows my wishes' means that she shall obey them. I 'will 
 not ! " and her decision was taken. A few moments afterward, 
 as the two ladies- paused at the foot of the stairs whither Jenny 
 accompanied her guest, a few words reached Dr. Palfrey in his 
 library. 
 
 "O, by-the-way, my dear Mrs. Vincent, I have a love of an 
 opera cloak you will see to-night. But I am detaining you. 
 Be sure and send Mr. Golding round in season ! " then Jenny 
 bounded up lightly to her dressing-room.
 
 PEACE: on THE STOLEN WILL. 337 
 
 In a few moments her husband came in, looking pale and 
 stern. 
 
 " Mrs. Palfrey," he said freezingly, " a few wbrds reached my 
 ear, accidentally, doubtless, as you accompanied your friend 
 down stairs. Did I understand you to mention Mr. Golding as 
 your proposed escort to the Opera to-night ? " 
 
 " You did," replied Jenny laconically. 
 
 " An,d you, knowing my wishes, have accepted his invitation 
 through Mrs. Vincent ? " 
 
 " Knowing your wishes, I have ! " was the answer in the 
 same impassive tone. 
 
 " Mrs. Palfrey,"' and his voice trembled, " you are my wife 
 and for that reason, and because you are the mother of my 
 child, your reputation is dear to me. We will let alone the 
 death of my uncle ; you must know that the man in whose 
 company you would appear to-night is a roue and a gambler 
 one, who, though invited to the drawing-rooms of lax and 
 unthinking women like Mrs. Vincent whose companionship you 
 a;v well aware I have repeatedly desired you to forego has 
 never, nor shall, with my permission, ever set foot within this 
 house ! And with this man, you would be seen at a public 
 assembly ! Jenny, you are mad ! You shall countermand this 
 acceptance at once ! " 
 
 " ' Shall ' ? " and her black eyes flashed. " ' Shall ' ? Lucien 
 Palfrey, if you choose to play the tyrant, I have not the slightest 
 objection, provided / am not the recipient of your jealous care. 
 I am no child, to come and go at your beck and call : as for 
 my good name, of which you seem so particularly watchful, fear 
 not but I am sufficient guardian of it. But, upon one point, I 
 am resolved to submit no longer to your jealous restrictions. 
 This invitation I shall not countermand ! " and the beautiful 
 eyes of that angry woman blazed defiance and exultation. 
 
 29
 
 338 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 "Jane Palfrey," and his face was deadly pale, and every 
 word, measured in its calmness, dropped distinctly into the 
 silence, " Jane Palfrey, I scorn to withhold you, by more direct 
 Commands, from the accomplishment of your" insane purpose. 
 The woman who forgets her self-respect is unworthy mine. I 
 have only this to add if you accompany Hugh Golding to the 
 Opera this night, twenty-four hours hence you are no wife of 
 mine ! " and turning abruptly, he left her. 
 
 A light, silvery, contemptuous laugh floated down the stair- 
 case as Dr. Palfrey sought his library ; then a vigorous pull of 
 the bell-cord summoned Jenny's maid to her dressing-room. 
 When the tea-bell rang, she did not go down ; and Lucien also 
 sent away the servant who knocked twice at his library door ; 
 and when the mantel clock chimed seven, the misguided young 
 wife, radiant in jewels Und with the glowing tint of her satin 
 opera cloak lending a brighter hue to her flushed cheek, was 
 handed to a carriage where sat a gay and fashionable party, by 
 Hugh Golding and whirled away to be the cynosure of a 
 thousand lorgnettes in the crowded Opera House. 
 
 Ten, eleven, twelve, the docks chimed forth ; and still in his 
 library sat Lucien Palfrey. What purposes flitted through his 
 mind, he hardly knew so had this daring, unwifely act stunned 
 him. The morrow's sun should behold him far from her side 
 he would not deprive her of his name, or the gold for which she 
 married him, but he \w>uld never trouble her more he would 
 place miles, leagues, seas, between them such were the re- 
 solves that swayed him. 
 
 Suddenly his maddening reverie was broken by the stopping 
 
 of a carriage at the door. She had returned, then ? he would 
 
 not see her he turned the key in the lock. 
 
 But why those trampling feet upon the marble steps ? the 
 
 sudden ejaculation of the porter who opened the door ? the
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 339 
 
 tread of men's feet in the hall ? those whispers ? "With a 
 thrill of ^indefinable dread, he flung wide his door. A slender, 
 limp form, with dishevelled hair and ghastly face, was in the 
 arms of two gentlemen ; and like one in a dream he followed 
 them up the staircase whither the porter preceded them, to 
 Jenny's dressing-room. Then he became conscious that others 
 stood, there beside him Mrs. Vincent, and two or three ladies 
 who were weeping violently. . 
 
 " What is it ? " he asked huskily " what has happened ? 
 Jenny, Jenny ! for God's sake speak to me, darling ! " and he 
 bent over the bed whereon they laid her. Then, as he gazed 
 long upon the whjte crushed forehead from whence he brushed 
 back the long streaming masses of dishevelled hair, with an 
 agonized groan he sank down upon the pillow beside her t 
 
 Mrs. Vincent was sobbing aloud, " Don't ! don't, Dr. Palfrey ! 
 Poor, dear Jenny ! " when her husband one of those who 
 had borne Mrs. Palfrey up stairs ^said with an effort at self- 
 coinmand, " Harriette, calm yourself while I speak to him." 
 Then going up to the agonized man, he took his hand, saying 
 huskily, while shudders of horror ran through his frame and 
 broke up his words, 
 
 " Dr. Palfrey this is awful ! There was a fire at the 
 theatre. The dress of a ballet-dancer was in flames they 
 communicated to the curtains from thence to the side-boxes 
 
 and in the rush for the doors " here he ceased ; but it 
 
 needed only one glance at the scarred, disfigured face on the 
 pillows to complete the tale. 
 
 Mr. Golding now came forward with visible agitation on his 
 dark face. 
 
 " Dr. Palfrey," and his voice shook, " I tried to save her 
 so help me Heaven, I did my best but the press was so great 
 
 we were thrown from our feet "
 
 340 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " Oh, I have no doubt ! I thank you gentlemen ! " and Pal- 
 frey's lip curled in bitterness as he staggered to his feet " but 
 go ! leave me ! My dear Mrs. Vincent, this agitating scene 
 is too much for you ! " and he quietly bowed them from the 
 room ; then, with a stony gaze in his eyes, said firmly, " Thomas, 
 go now for Dr. Felton." 
 
 Alone with Jenny, until Aunt Allen came in trembling* with 
 fear, all the passionate love of Lucien Palfrey's nature broke 
 forth. Their parting : his harshness -7 his after resolves 
 all rose before him ; and remorse almost maddened him. Kiss- 
 ing her pallid cheeks, pressing his own to her cold lips, laying 
 his temples against the fair white bosom thaf^had so often, pil- 
 lowed his head, he forgot everything but his own accusing, 
 remorseful thoughts, and moaned repeatedly, "It is a judgment! 
 it is a judgment ! " 
 
 " She is not dead ! " said Dr. Felton, placing a mirror to her 
 lips. 
 
 " Oh, save her save her ! Doctor, I am unmanned I 
 can do nothing but you must not 1 let her die ! " and his hag- 
 gard face "was scarcely less white than hers upon the pillow. 
 
 " My dear young friend, whatever man can do shall be done ; 
 but I fear the decree has gone forth ! " was the reply of the 
 sympathizing physician, who saw with a practised eye that med- 
 ical skill was set at naught. 
 
 An(f so, ere the sun had sunk again in the west unclosing 
 her eyes to murmur a faint petition for forgiveness and look her 
 last upon the baby Cora whom old Nurse Allen had brought to 
 the bed-side laying her head nearer against the agonized 
 heart to which it had been drawn so poor, repentant Jenny 
 Palfrey breathed out her life.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 " The star of the unconquered Will 
 
 Still rose within her breast, 
 Serene, and resolute, and still, 
 And calm and self-possessed." 
 
 weeks had passed since the fire, and then Peace 
 awoke as from a long, blank dream. Weak as an infant, she 
 lay on her pillows. There was a gentle stirring of the air a 
 delicious fragrance stole over her senses ; and she heard softest 
 whispers. Where was she ? Did angels' wings fan her brow? 
 that delicious fragrance was it from the celestial asphodels ? 
 
 She lay long in a silent, dreamy state. Again those whis- 
 pering tones ; she turned slightly on her pillow, and, unclos- 
 ing her eyes, lifted her hands to her head. With a weak cry of 
 pain like the plaint of a wounded bird, they fell back. The 
 sight of those bandaged hands recalled the incidents of that ter- 
 rible fire. All was plain then. She looked wonderingly through 
 the parted bed-curtains upon the form dimly outlined in the 
 shadows. 
 
 " The crisis has passed. She will live ! " said a man's voice, 
 as a finger was gently laid upon her wrist. % 
 
 " Thank God ! " fervently uttered Orah Rowland, coming out 
 from the shadows and pressing her lips to the blue-veined fore- 
 head on the pillow, while a few tears dropped on Peace's face. 
 
 " Yes, thank God ! " again said the voice that had first fallen 
 on Peace's ear a voice that quivered her weak frame with a 
 thrill of strange delight. 
 
 " Orah 1 " she feebly whispered. 
 
 29* (341)
 
 342 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " Hush, my dear ! " and a finger was laid on Peace's lips. 
 " Not a word ! You have been very ill you must not talk." 
 
 " Tell me who was it ? who went out ? " whispered the 
 sick girl, withdrawing her feeble gaze from the door where a 
 tall form had just disappeared. 
 
 " It was Dr. Palfrey ! There, hush now ! " 
 
 A faint rose-tint crept over the thin white cheeks on the 
 pillows a smile, soft, loving, and tender as a child's, rippled 
 about her lips and she turned her face toward the wall. 
 Tears were crushed under her drooping eyelids. 
 
 Orah's quick woman-heart- divined her thoughts. A brilliant 
 smile brightened her features, and she laid her hand softly on 
 Peace's forehead. 
 
 " Listen, but be very quiet, little one ! " she said gently. 
 " Peace, I have not read the depths of your heart, but I think 
 I know Lucien Palfrey's betrayed during these last three 
 weeks' anxiety for, darling, you have been very, very ill ! ' 
 and the hand upon her brow trembled. " These are his gifts ! " 
 and Orah lifted a vase of superb flowers from the table, " Lucien 
 ^Palfrey loves you ! There, not a word now I shall regret 
 having opened my lips if I get you ill again, and call down the 
 doctor's anathemas on my devoted head. You must sleep 
 and I shall leave you now." 
 
 " Stay ! " whispered Peace, " one moment ! That night 
 the fire Cora?" 
 
 " Cora and Aunt Allen were saved. Your noble daring 
 shamed those strong men. These poor hands," and she laid 
 them softly on a little hair pillow " they were the agents of a 
 strong heart. Lucien Palfrey may well love the brave girl who 
 saved his child from a terrible death ! " 
 
 Peace lay meek and passive as a child, while Orah looped 
 aside the bed-curtains that the cool, perfumed air might play
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 34.3 
 
 over her drew closer the dark window-drapery then nun" 
 herself down into an easy chair. And the two were alone with 
 their thoughts the girl of noble beauty, with her superb 
 physique, proud midnight eyes, and strong conquered heart, and 
 the weak invalid who lay very quiet, with grateful tears drop- 
 ping softly from eyes that closed at length in long, refreshing 
 slumber. 
 
 In two weeks, so rapid was her recovery, Peace made her 
 appearance below, her feeble steps supported by kind old Judge 
 Rowland for it was to his mansion that she had been con- 
 veyed in an easy carriage on the . day succeeding the fire, and 
 where she had lain for three weeks in the delirium of brain 
 fever, while Orah alternated the days and nights of watching 
 with an experienced nurse. 
 
 When the despatch had reached Saratoga informing Dr. Pal- 
 frey of the casualty at his country seat, he forgot instantly his 
 syren dreams of pleasure ; unmindful of every thought, save that 
 his darling child had been rescued unharmed from a terrible 
 death. And when he turned from the blackened, smouldering 
 pile, to clasp anew his little one, and listened to Aunt Allen's 
 pathetic recital of " Miss Peace's " intrepidity, then went to 
 Judge Rowland's mansion' to loo^ upon the girl lying apparently 
 at Death's door then, a wish, so strong and imperious that 
 he felt his Maker would deal unmercifully should he call that 
 sufferer home, prompted the prayers he uttered for her recov- 
 ery. 
 
 Not a thought of Florence Delano disturbed those hours. lie 
 had awakened from his dream. Like a mirage, her* image 
 faded ; as the dipping wing of a bird, or a leaf fluttering down 
 to the surface of a still lake, so had his heart been only slightly 
 ruffled. His beautiful cousin had never stirred the deep waters 
 beneath. Recalling every past interview with the gentle gov-
 
 344 PEACE : OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 erness her quiet dignity, unobtrusive worth, and pure womanly 
 sentiments expressed in conversation and lastly, dwelling on 
 this deed by which she had perilled her life for his child it 
 was not strange that a species of fervid, intense devotion sprang 
 up, increasing daily, for the sufferer. So the long days and 
 nights of those three weeks were devoted to her care ; and 
 the words which echped Orah Rowland's " Thank God ! " 
 were a true expression of his joy at her anticipated recov- 
 ery. 
 
 Mrs. Delano and Florence returned to New York with Pal- 
 frey the former half-frantic with terror for the safety of her 
 " darlings," and her daughter piqued that she had not brought 
 her admirer to a declaration. And when, day after day, he hov- 
 ered about Judge Rowland's mansion and, in his calls at Mrs. 
 Delano's, where his child and Nurse Allen were installed as of 
 old, looked pale and care-worn talking only of the suffering 
 Peace then the indignation of the mother, and the discom- 
 fiture of the daughter, were with difficulty repressed. 
 
 " The artful creature ! " said Mrs. Delano after one of these 
 visits, " she could well afford a few burns to win him ! and 
 if it goes on long in this way, with that Orah Howland as her 
 aid, making Lucien believe her the paragon of amiability and 
 meekness, she will succeed. Florence, by the terms of her 
 agreement, she was to remain here one year ; and I will claim 
 her. Once in her station again, the danger is over. We must 
 call upon her to-morrow ! " 
 
 The ensuing day found Mrs. Delano's carriage before Judge 
 Howlftnd's house ; and that lady and her daughter, wreathed in 
 deceitful smiles, sent up their inquiry for Miss Wedgewood. 
 They were met in the drawing-room by Orah Howland ; and 
 presently Peace made her appearance with the faint hue of re- 
 turning health on her cheek. Both visitors were profuse in
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 345 
 
 their expressions of delight at her rapid recovery, and saluted 
 her with a kiss. 
 
 " Dr. Palfrey owes you a debt he can never repay," ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Delano. " Nor can my daughter or myself fitly 
 express our obligation for, as you must well suppose, little 
 Cora is very dear to us ! " and she glanced meaningly toward 
 Florence. 
 
 Peace received their expressions with quiet thanks. Intui- 
 tively she read that some motive, other than their suddenly con- 
 ceived regard, had sent there that supercilious woman and her 
 haughty daughter ; but, in the honesty of her own nature, she 
 did not quite fathom it. 
 
 " My dear Miss Howland, you have quite forestalled us in 
 your appropriation of Peace," said Mrs. Delano in a flattering 
 tone. " I perceive you have almost worn yourself out in the 
 sick room. Dr. Palfrey says you are a very Sister of Mercy. 
 It is quite time we should relieve you. I came to take our dear 
 girl home ; where, I assure you, she shall remain on the invalid 
 list as long as she chooses before entering the school-room again, 
 though my darlings clamor loudly for the return of their beloved 
 teacher." 
 
 Orah Rowland's keen perceptions of human nature pierced 
 the wily woman's artifice ; and her reply, in her own decided, 
 haughty, ^et .courteous way, forestalled the answer on" Peace's 
 lips. 
 
 " Mrs. Delano, for your proffered hospitality I am sure Miss 
 Wedgewood is duly grateful ; but at present she is located in a 
 home where, if there be any claim in the strongest friendship 
 and sisterly love, Orah Howland designs to urge her longer 
 presence. Nay, Peace don't rebel ! You are my prisoner ! " 
 and slie laid her hand playfully yet decidedly on the young 
 girl's lips.
 
 340 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " Really, Miss Rowland," said Mrs. Delano with reddened 
 cheek, " this is not quite what I expected. But it is to you, 
 Miss "Wedgewood, I made my request. You remember, doubt- 
 less, that your engagement as governess in my family has not 
 yet expired ? " 
 
 " I am aware of it, madam ! " replied Peace quietly, sustained 
 by Orah's firm, reassuring glance, and reading Mrs. Delano's 
 motive for her return. 
 
 " And I require the fulfilment of that obligation ! " said that 
 lady, whose exasperation got the better of her tact. " Upon 
 your restoration to health, I mean, of course," she added, in a 
 mollified voice. 
 
 Orah could no longer restrain herself. 
 
 " Madam," she commenced in her own haughty tone, " your 
 disinterested kindness entitles you to our combined thanks. Per- 
 haps this matter had better be referred to Miss Wedgewood's 
 physician ; as Dr. Palfrey is doubtless the best judge whether 
 his patient's health is sufficiently restored to igithstand the seclu- 
 sion of a school-room." 
 
 That shaft went home. Mrs. Delano absolutely quivered 
 with suppressed rage ; and a quick concentrated gleam of hate 
 sparkled in Florence's eyes, as, white and cold as marble, she 
 swept the folds of her lace shawl about her statuesque form, and 
 closed her jewelled fingers so tightly over her fan thaUthe deli- 
 cate ivory sticks shivered in her grasp. 
 
 " Mamma, you forgot that we purposed driving down town," 
 she said in a chill, indifferent tone, rising, drawing forth her tiny 
 jewelled watch as she spoke ; while Orah Rowland rose also, 
 coldly courteous in manner. 
 
 " Such insufferable insolence ! " exclaimed the indignant girl, 
 imperiously pacing the carpet after Mrs. Delano's carriage had 
 rolled away. " Such arrogance ! to come here with their
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 347 
 
 offered Hospitality ! their protestations of friendship ! "Why, 
 Florence Delano, with her soulless lips I'd as lief an icicle 
 would touch mine ! actually kissed you ! Peace, Peace, what 
 are you crying for ? Because I dared answer that supercilious 
 woman after her own fashion ? I can see now what you must 
 have suffered with them ; and can't I fathom now, also, their 
 motive ? Yes ! I tell you, Peace, they meant to carry you back 
 to the worse than nunnery confinement of their school-room, in 
 order that Florence Delano might win back her truant lover. 
 Truant ? No ! I wrong him there ! He never loved such a 
 heartless, soulless piece of human mechanism ! It was her 
 beauty and deceit that enthralled him ; but Peace, darling, he is 
 your captive now and when he asks you, as he will soon, to 
 become his wife, I can wish you no happier lot ! " and with a 
 kiss Orah Rowland left her. 
 
 " He loves me ! he will ask me to become his wife ! " she 
 murmured. " But can I ? dare I ? ought I?" and she 
 sat long with bowed head and folded hands. 
 
 " Capital ! capital ! " exclaimed old Judge Rowland, rubbing 
 his hands in high glee as Orah recounted the unsuccessful ter- 
 mination of Mrs. Delano's visit. " What a lawer you'd made, 
 pet, if you'd been a man ! speaker of the Senate, by this time ! 
 who knows ?" and he pinched her cheek. " But seriously, 
 daughter, that wasn't bad to bring down that parvenue Mrs. 
 Delano ! Take our Peace away from us ? indeed ! Have her 
 turn governess again? Well, really! that was a hair's stroke 
 too much ! Why, the girl ought to have a pension settled on 
 her for the rest of her natural life ! and to my thinking, Dr. 
 Palfrey.'s the fellow to propose it said pension to consist of an 
 offer of his hand and heart. Faith ! if he don't do it quickly, 
 I'll go down on my rheumatic old knees to her myself ! Eli !
 
 348 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 that I will, pet ! and bring you a mother-in-law worth hav- 
 ing ! " and, rubbing his hands together, the old gentleman 
 took down his gold-headed cane and went down town. 
 
 But there was another member of that household not insen- 
 sible to the merits of our gentle Peace ; for that evening a 
 soft, moonlight evening, while Orah entertained a few guests in 
 the drawing-room, and the invalid lingered in the cool, dimly 
 lighted conservatory Louis Rowland sat by her side, and in a 
 frank, manly voice besoughf her to become his wife. 
 
 " Peace, Miss Wedgewood, I have nothing to hope for," he 
 said in a voice that trembled slightly, " I have little foundation 
 for the beautiful dream I have reared and yet I have ven- 
 tured to ask you to become my wife. Peace, have I asked too 
 much ? " and his hand closed tightly over hers. 
 
 Peace was^ much affected. She trembled violently. How 
 painful to reply, as she must, to that manly avowal of earnest 
 love ! and many minutes elapsed before she found calmness to 
 express, in delicately chosen words, her appreciation of the 
 honor and kindness she could never accept. 
 
 " Miss Wedgewood," and his hand grew cold, " this is not 
 what I could have wished although what I should have 
 expected ! But you are not to blame. Had you bestowed upon 
 me this hand, with the accompanying treasure of your heart, it 
 would have rendered me a happy man. I shall suffer but I 
 shall try to conquer. Though lost as a lover, keep me always 
 among your friends, Peace I would not like to be bani.-hed 
 there ; and he who is fortunate enough to win you shall have 
 my warmest friendship, too. God bless you, Peace ! " and so 
 he left her. 
 
 Peace went hastily to her room. She felt weak and weary, 
 and sank into a chair. The evening paper lay upon her table ; 
 and mechanically her eye glanced down its columns. A few
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 349 
 
 :mv--ted her attention, and brought a deadly pallor to her 
 cheek. The sheet fell from her hand, and she sunk down in a 
 long swoon. 
 
 The next morning, still pale and weak, she sat in Orah's 
 dressing-room. " Peace, what ails you ? You have looked ill 
 all the morning. I must send directly for a certain physician 
 who < prescriptions will doubtless bring balm and healing," and 
 Orali glanced archly from her sewing into her companion's dull, 
 leaden eyes. 
 
 " I slept hut little lust night," replied Peace evasively. 
 
 Just then, a servant tapped at the door. " Dr. Palfrey is 
 below." 
 
 " For whom did he inquire, John ? " asked Orah. 
 
 " For Miss Wedgewood." . 
 
 "..There, little one go down ! I was sure he would come 
 to-,l:iy. Hu-ten, deaf men never like to be kept in wait- 
 ing, you know. And do try and get a little color into tho.-e 
 pale cheek , el.-e I shall forfeit my reputation as a famous 
 nur <>.'' 
 
 With a trembling step. Peace crossed the threshold of the 
 drawing-room. Lucien Palfrey rose from the piano where he 
 sat humming, in a subdued rich tenor voice, that sweet old Scottish 
 ballad "Annie Lawrie;" and as he came forward to lead her 
 to the sofa a smile brightened his face and he murmured ten- 
 derly the refrain 
 
 ' Her voice is low and sweet*. 
 
 And *he's all the world to me, 
 And for honiiie Annie L:i \vrie 
 I'd lay me. down and dec ! " 
 
 " Peace, Peace," he whispered, still retaining her hand as he 
 seated himself beside her, " you must know my mission here 
 
 30
 
 ooO PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 to-day. Be very merciful to your suppliant, beloved one : let 
 your name be symbolical of the happiness you can award me 
 give me perfect peace and joy." 
 
 "With a face colorless as marble, Peace shrank away. Droop- 
 ing like a broken lily, she covered her face with her hands 
 every throb of her heart answering to his pleadings, but every 
 sentiment of honor forbidding her to become his. 
 
 "Peace, dear child, you are ill. You are not strong yet. 
 Tell me nothing until you are calmer." 
 
 " No, it was not that. I am strong see, how strong ! " and 
 she sprang up, waves of crimson flooding her cheek " it is 
 not that ! but, Dr. Palfrey, do not ask me what separates us ! 
 I cannot become your wife ! " 
 
 " Peace," and he caught her hand, " Peace, tell me ! I will 
 know ! There shall be nothing on earth strong enough to divide 
 us. So long as you are the noble girl who perilled her precious 
 life at the dictate of her own generous, self-sacrificing heart 
 so long am I your slave ! But ah ! I have it now ! " and he 
 struck his forehead with a trembling hand " fool, that in my 
 presumption I did not think of it before ! Your rich love is 
 given to another. Louis Howland has won you. This is an 
 obstacle, in truth ' oh, Peace, I understand you now ! " and he 
 released her hand. 
 
 " No ! no !' as Heaven is my* witness, you wrong me now 
 for, Lucien Palfrey, save yours there is no proifered love grate- 
 ful to my lonely heart. And, could I accept it could I " 
 and her head sank in momentary weakness on his shoulder, 
 while the clasp of his arms tightened "I would ask no dearer 
 boon. But it cannot be. Let me go from your presence before 
 you thrust me away out of your heart, for, Lucien Palfrey, 
 the woman whom you would make your wife should bring you 
 a stainless name while I, alas ! I am the child of shame !
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 851 
 
 There, let me go now!" and meekly, humbly, she turned 
 away. 
 
 "Peace!" 
 
 Was it an exclamation of reproach, or pity, that fell from Dr. 
 Palfrey's lips ? Keproach or pity the excited girl could bear 
 neither then. Her brain seemed on fire. 
 
 " Lucien Palfrey," and a deadly paleness usurped the crimson 
 flush on her brow, " no tongue can tell the mental sufferings I 
 have endured for the past three weeks; yet, last night, a 
 greater misery came a stunning blow fell on heart and brain, 
 and left me wounded, humiliated, crushed. One week hence, 
 the merchant, Augustus Revere, will be brought forth from the 
 felon's cell to his trial. That man is my father! " 
 
 " But, Peace, I cannot comprehend. - It is a dream some 
 wild chimera of your brain you are ill, my poor child ! " said 
 Palfrey in astonishment. 
 
 " No, would to Heaven it were ! " replied Peace faintly. 
 " It is not much to learn," she added bitterly " only the old 
 story of man's wickedness and woman's frailty. My gentle 
 mother ! " and she wept unrestrainedly. " But, Dr. Palfrey, I 
 must visit the Prison to-morrow. You will assist me to go 
 there he is my parent ; and, innocent or guilty, my place is 
 at his side. You will not refuse me ? If you have any regard 
 for me, prove it by this ! " and she clung imploringly to his 
 arm. 
 
 " Peace," and he drew her toward him. " If this sad revela- 
 tion be true, whose arms shall shelter you ? Give me that right 
 a husband's right to protect you." 
 
 " No ! no ! I will not take advantage of your noble impulses. 
 No man shall have cause to blush for me as his wife you, of 
 all others, so generous, so good ! It would kill me that sti- 
 fling load of shame. It cannot be ! But let us talk no more
 
 352 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL, 
 
 of this ! You will get me admitted to to the Prison to- 
 morrow ? " 
 
 " Yes but I shall not thus resign you. Now go to your 
 room, and try to sleep. I must not allow my little one to get 
 ill again ! " and touching his lips to her forehead, he led her to 
 the door.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 These strange and sudden injuries have fallen 
 So thick upon me, that I lose all sense 
 Of what they are. Methinks I am not wronged ; 
 Nor is it aught, if from the censuring world 
 I can but hide it. * * * Reputation ! 
 Thou art a word no more ! 
 
 BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. 
 
 AN abler per^ than mine has written, " Perhaps in the whole 
 world there is not a building where all the horror, the wild 
 poetry of sin and grief, is so forcibly written out in black 
 shadows and hard stone, as in the city prison of New 
 York." 
 
 And it was before this huge structure, with its heavy 
 Egyptian architecture, its solid, windowless walls and massive 
 column?, before this monster crouching down in the city's 
 heart like a wild beast in its wilderness jungle the teeming, 
 crowded growth of civilization pressing on every side like the 
 rank luxuriance of tropic forests, before this prison house, bap- 
 tized by sin and suffering with a fearfully significant name, 
 "The Tombs," that a close carriage drew up on a sultry 
 August morning. 
 
 Supported by the strong arm of her companion, a slight, deli- 
 cate girl, closely veiled, alighted and walked feebly toward the 
 prison; while the driver reined his horses among the heavy 
 shadows, to await their, return. 
 
 Into that atmosphere so redolent of human crime and suffer- 
 80* (353)
 
 354 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 ing toward that ponderous pile against whose hard walls so 
 many cries have beaten unheeded but to be dashed back to 
 hopeless lips into that haunt of the great city where crime is 
 ever stealthily lurking, and the face of a fair, refined woman is 
 seldom seen save she goes thither at the dictate of philanthropy, 
 or Heaven bless her! to carry consolation to some being 
 inside those black prison walls unto whom she is allied by ties 
 of kindred or affection into such a region, why had that fair 
 girl, who strove vainly to repress the chill shudders that shook 
 her frame as she passed underneath the frowning portals of the 
 ponderous door-way, penetrated ? 
 
 Ah, that delicate girl was on a holy mission ; her feet trode on 
 their Mecca pilgrimage, but her heart was sent before ! Peace 
 was seeking her father. 
 
 After a short consultation with the Warden in an outer office, 
 an officer opened a heavy door on its iron hinges, and Lucien 
 Palfrey led his trembling companion forward into an open court 
 surrounded by high stone buildings whose black walls frowned 
 gloomily on every side. Following their guide across this court, 
 they ascended two flights of massive broad stone stairs ; then 
 traversed a long corridor, at the extremity of which the officer 
 paused and unlocked a door. Flinging it wide open, he said, 
 
 " This is the cell, sir ! " 
 
 Peace shrank back momentarily, and whispered, catching at 
 Palfrey's arm, " Must I go in alone ? " Now that her journey's 
 end was gained, her heart failed her. 
 
 " Be calm, Peace," and he held both her hands in his for 
 a moment, 'gently reassuring her. " I shall remain here, await- 
 ing you. Be calm and brave and remember, that, whatever 
 may come of* this interview, nothing can change my affection. 
 Go in now ! " and Peace crossed the threshold, and the great 
 door swung slowly to behind her.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN -WILL. 355 
 
 The officer was retiring, and Dr. Palfrey walked beside him 
 the length of the corridor. 
 
 " How will it go with the prisoner, think you ? " 
 
 " Hard, I fear," was the reply. Nothing in his favor turned 
 up at the examination. The money or a portion of it the 
 marked bills were found in his possession, secreted in a cab- 
 inet at his house ; and that'll be pretty conclusive evidence. No 
 doubt but he'll go up to Sing Sing ! When your rich men go 
 down, they make a clean sweep of it ! He was on the eve of 
 bankruptcy, they say. Who is the lady just gone in there ? 
 his daughter ? Poor thing ! Sad affair for his friends ! " 
 
 " Yes, sad affair, truly ! " replied Palfrey, evading the query ; 
 then, while the officer descended the staircase, he retraced his 
 steps to the vicinity of the cell. 
 
 Meantime, what was passing inside that heavy door whose 
 clang, as it shut behind her, smote Peace's heart with a sudden 
 
 thrill of terror ? 
 
 The prisoner sat on the side of his low iron pallet, with his 
 
 elbows on his knees, and his head bowed listlessly on his thin 
 white hands. Thus had he sat day after day since his committal, 
 in the dull apathy of despair heeding not the lapse of time, 
 and making no preparation for the approaching trial. Peace 
 saw the outline of a thin wasted figure in the dim light and, 
 forgetful of her fear, swayed only by the wild rushing tide of 
 emotion that surged upon her heart, she sprang forward and 
 sank before him. 
 
 Revere had not looked up when the cell-door opened, sup- 
 posing* his visitor to be the keeper ; but now he rose to his feet, 
 shaded his eyes a moment with his hands, then sank nervelessly 
 back. A sudden faintness seized him his lips moved, but 
 could utter no sound. Peace hastily detached the miniature 
 from her neck, and placed it in his shaking hand.
 
 356 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN "WILL. 
 
 " Good God ! who are you ? *' at length groaned the unhappy 
 man. " Have you come from the dead ? Did she send you ? " 
 and a superstitious thrill ran through his frame. " And 
 this her face, and mine ! " and the miniature slipped from 
 his fingers and dropped down among the folds of Peace's dress, 
 while large beaded drops of perspiration stood on his forehead. 
 " Her face, and mine ! Mary ! Mary ! why do you haunt me 
 thus ? Go away ! " 
 
 Peace clasped his hands between hers. 
 
 " No, no ! Send me not from your side ! you must not send 
 me away ! The dead cannot return bjit the living kneel to 
 claim your love ! " 
 
 " She is dead, then ? Mary is dead ? " moaned Revere hi a 
 hollow tone. 
 
 " Yes, she is dead," replied Peace sadly. " Seventeen years 
 ago, on a dreary winter's night, she sought the dwelling of one 
 whose life she had made desolate. She died there, and they 
 wept* over her, and followed her to her grave on Wood Hill 
 and cherished tenderly her dying legacy a poor, tiny, father- 
 less child." 
 
 Revere had risen to his feet ; his grasp on Peace's hands was 
 tight, to painfulness even ; his breath came in hurried gasps ; 
 two dusky circles rimmed his eyes. 
 
 "And that child? that child?" he gasped in a thick 
 tone. "Before Heaven, I did not know of this until 'this 
 hour ! That child is it, as my heart forebodes is it 
 you?" 
 
 "My father.'" 
 
 There are joys and sorrows that no pen can portray words 
 that no pen should transcribe ; nor shall mine endeavor to depict 
 that interview. But memory, and a fearful remorse, held sway 
 in that hour.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 357 
 
 The paths of yesterday can never be trodden again how 
 much less those that stretch away dimly through the long lapse 
 of vanished years. 
 
 Bordered by ruined hopes and wasted opportunities marked 
 by dried channels wherein once flowed Love's sweet waters 
 here a sunken mound where we buried a perished joy and 
 planted the white roses of Memory over the head-stone there 
 a way-side tree of Friendship, under whose cooling, grateful 
 shade we lingered when the sun of Disappointment beat fiercely 
 down, a tuft of snowy blossoms we plucked in innocent child- 
 hood, or the broken toys we threw from us when the paths of 
 life grew steep and rugged and our hands were outstretched to 
 cope with coming dangers and life's stern realities such the 
 paths our feet have climbed. Alas ! that we can never traverse 
 them agajn ! 
 
 Treading down the sunset slopes of life, our shadows length- 
 ening day by day, only in Thought can we retrace the travelled 
 way once more. Well for us, if the trees and flowers and cool- 
 ing streams live longest in our hearts ! Well for us, if Regret 
 walk not hand in hand with Memory ! For 
 
 " Of nil sad Words of tongue or pen. 
 The saddest are these : ' It miyht have been ! ' " 
 
 Thus, in that hour, it was doubly bitter to the remorse-stricken 
 man who bowed his tearful face on the golden curls oversweep- 
 ing his breast, to reflect that Mary Halpine had never known, 
 on earth, that which would have given her profoundest happi- 
 11( . : S the knowledge that she was indeed a true, lawful 
 wife. 
 
 "You wfll come again to-morrow?" asked the trembling
 
 358 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 man, clinging tightly to his .child, as the keeper turned the key 
 in, the cell-door when the half-hour had expired. 
 
 " Yes, my father ! to-morrow, and next day, and every day, 
 until " 
 
 " Until they lead me forth to my condemnation ! " interrupted 
 the despairing man. "My daughter, I have been base and 
 wicked but, before God, I declare to you that I am innocent 
 of this crime ! It is a cursed conspiracy ! God ! that it 
 should have come to this bolts and bars, and a prison- 
 cell, for Augustus Revere ! " and with a dash of passion- 
 ate pride, he struck the hard stone walls with his clenched 
 hands. " I, who have waded in luxury for years I, who 
 have looked on the felon as a Pariah from the world I, 
 to descend to the level of thieves, drunkards, murderers! 
 to feel the disgrace scorching in my blood ! I tell you, 
 it is hard ! " and he strode the narrow limits of his 
 ceU. 
 
 " Yes, it is hard ! " said Peace mournfully. " I believe you 
 are innocent and I feel fhat you will be saved ! " and a 
 flush of prophetic inspiration kindled her features, as she 
 imprinted a kiss on Revere's haggard forehead, then glided 
 away. 
 
 As Lucien Palfrey led Peace to the carriage, his eye fell on 
 a tall female form" closely muffled in a rich shawl and heavy 
 veil, leaning against a column of the vestibule. Her attitude 
 betokened weariness. 
 
 " My good woman," said Palfrey, returning, " can I do any- 
 thing for you ? procure you admission to any one within ? 
 or, perhaps you are ill ? " 
 
 The woman started, and drew her veil closer with an ema- 
 ciated hand.
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 359 
 
 "No, no! I want nothing! I am not ill! Go away and 
 leave me ! " she exclaimed in a sharp, querulous voice. " Go 
 away Go!" and two luminous eyes glittered through the 
 folds of her heavy veil. 
 
 " Pardon me ! I thought I might be of service ! " and Pal- 
 frey turned away. 
 
 " Yet stay ! " she cried. " They call this terrible place ' The 
 Tombs,' " gazing up at the frowning structure, and pointing 
 one long slender finger whereon flashed a blood red ruby stone. 
 "They call this 'The Tombs!' Ha, ha! They named it 
 rightly ! ha, ha, ha!" and her laugh was short, almost 
 maniacal. " ' The Tombs ! ' " she continued in a low, hollow, 
 musing tone " no sunlight, no flowers, no joy, enters here 
 only black shadows ! There are hearts like this prison-house, 
 too where the great black door of Sin shuts out the music and 
 sunlight Hope, Joy, Love everything, but life'! We can- 
 not kill Memory, you know ! " and she shuddered. " But 
 what is she here for?" ~and she pointed to the carriage. 
 " Why did you bring her here ? This is no place for the young, 
 and beautiful, and beloved. Take her away, where all is bright 
 and sunny, and these 'great black shadows cannot make a tomb 
 of her young heart ! " and she turned abruptly and glided 
 past him. 
 
 "Some poor, half-crazed woman !" said Palfrey compassion- 
 ately, as he entered the 'carriage. "Oh, Peace, how true 
 that one-half the world knows not how the other . half 
 live ! " 
 
 " True," echoed Peace ; but in her great happiness she had 
 little heed for the woes of others then. 
 
 " Such a revelation ! Oh, Dr. Palfrey, such a revela- 
 tion ! " she exclaimed excitedly, her flushed checks baling 
 in tears like rose-leaves in dew. "A brother! Somewhere
 
 360 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 I have a brother ! and my father, too he is my own 
 lawful father! I thank God that I am not the child of 
 shame ! " and a passion of tears relieved her overcharged 
 heart.
 
 .CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 The hope is crushed 
 
 That lit my life, the voice within me hushed * 
 That spoke sweet oracles. 
 
 BYRON. 
 
 A THUNDER tempest hung aloft with threatening aspect. 
 The sun had died in a bank of dull, lurid fire, and a gjeat black 
 pall was spread over his death couch. 
 
 Not the slightest sound broke a calm as profound as that 
 preceding the hurricane of eastern tropics not the faintest 
 chirp of a bird, or the whirr of an insect; all Nature lay cowed, 
 frightened, at the betokened elemental strife. 
 
 No sound upon the earthy but from one room of the little 
 " Nest " from out that studio, at whose western window Leafy 
 Earle had sat before her easel,- or sketched the valley, river, or 
 sunset sky from that room, on the still air of that hushed 
 August night, came stifling sobs laden with the burthen of suffer- 
 ing. Some fearful grief must have steeped her young heart in 
 bitterness, for the girl lay prone upon a couch with her face 
 buried in the cushions and her hands locked tightly over her 
 heart. She was not weeping for tears never come when the 
 heart and brain are seared ; thus every sob, coming up chok- 
 ingly, gaspingly, was no relief to her agony. White and heart- 
 crushed, she lay a lily broken in a storm a singing bird 
 motionless in its cage. 
 
 The little studio was a perfect gem. The floor was covered 
 with a tufted carpet where the roses of Cashmere lay imbedded 
 
 31 (361)
 
 362 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 in a ground of purest white ; oval pictures leaned down from 
 the walls ; sofas and tabourets, a carved table strewn with port- 
 folios and elegantly bound books, a small stand at the south 
 window on which stood a vase of rare flowers and a little inlaid 
 writing-desk, and the easel at the western casement, completed 
 its furnishing. f 
 
 A waxen taper burned dimly on the mantel, shedding a faint 
 glow down upon the easel where lay an unfinished picture 
 the portrait of Hugh Golding. Leafy Earle's heart had painted 
 that likeness, infusing beauty and tenderness and goodness into 
 the dark face. It was the embodiment of her ideal, not the real, 
 Hugh Gliding. 
 
 Mrs. Earle crossed the narrow hall and looked into the apart- 
 ment. " Why, Leafy, you have come, then ? I was so fright- 
 ened lest the shower should overtake you. But I did not hear 
 you enter ! How tired you are, my child ! " and she picked up 
 a hat and mantle from the carpet. " Poor child ! I knew it, 
 would be too much for you such a long walk from the landing, 
 after a day in the hot city. But come, dear, I have kept your 
 tea nice and hot. Dear ! the shower will break before long 
 come now, child ! " 
 
 " Please don't, mother ! " she said in a hollow voice without 
 raising her head. 
 
 " Dear child, you are sick ! I will bring you a glass of wine," 
 and the anxious mother returned shortly. " Here, darling, you 
 must take it ! " 
 
 Leafy rose faintly ; but waived the glass from her white 
 lips. 
 
 " Why, daughter, how pale you are ! What is it ? Speak, 
 Leafy! What means this? Your torn dress your feet so 
 wet ? You did not miss the path, and cross the swamp ? " and 
 she removed the tiny shoes and saturated silken hose from feet
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 363 
 
 polished and cold as marble, chafing them vigorously with* her 
 hands. " How did you come, Leafy ? " 
 
 " I don't know, mother I hurried and hurried on for I 
 only wanted to feel your arms about me once more. You 
 never will cast me out ? A mother's love will never fail her 
 child ! " and she hid her face in her mother's lap. 
 
 " Leafy Leafy don't, darling ! You are ill ! The day's 
 journey has been too much for you ! " and she drew the bowed 
 head nearer her heart. The girl stirred not, but lay in a heavy 
 stupor. 
 
 " Leafy, rouse up ! don't sleep now ! " said the alarmed 
 mother. " Tell me of your visit. Did you sell the pictures ? 
 and did you meet Hugh Mr. Golding ? He cannot get here 
 to-night in the storm. Come, rouse up, darling ! " 
 
 " Mother," and the girl raised her head suddenly, two bright 
 blood-red spots burning on her cheeks, " Mother, you are killing 
 me ! I have heard words to-day that almost drove me mad. I 
 stood in the picture-gallery I heard him speak my name 
 with laugh, and sneer, and careless jest. He is false, mother 
 false, false ! " and her head drooped lower on the tender mater- 
 nal bosom. 
 
 Meantime a sudden wind went sighing through the trees 
 herald of the coming tempest ; and a heavy burst of thunder 
 smote the silence with prolonged reverberations that seemed to 
 cleave the hills to their bases ; then, with a sudden rush, the 
 gates of the heavens were unloosed, and down came the torrent. 
 Shrieking through the ravines, among the sturdy pines, 
 dashing the boughs of the mountain ash together and tearing 
 the clinging drapery of vines from the rocks, went the hum- 
 cane wind ; while the loosened torrent fell in a whirling mass 
 now trampling full' upon the window-panes, now striking sharp 
 and slant like an army of descending arrows, now dying into
 
 364 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 momentary lulls, the booming thunder chorus filling in the 
 pauses. 
 
 " Come, Leafy, you must go to bed," said Mrs. Earle at 
 length ; and she lifted the slight form and bore it into an 
 adjoining bed-chamber, and, gently disrobing her, laid her down 
 upon the cool white pillows. 
 
 " My poor, poor darling ! " she whispered, binding up the 
 long, dishevelled masses of hair and laving her burning fore- 
 head, " try and forget it all. Sleep will bring calmness. You 
 are not afraid of the tempest ? I will close the door, and leave 
 you to quiet." 
 
 " Mother," and Leafy started up, bright crimson spots burning 
 on her cheeks, and dusky circles rimming her unnaturally bril- 
 liant eyes " Mother, I cannot forget ! Do not think this a 
 light thing ! it is killing me ! I have loved him better than 
 my mother better than my Maker and what I heard this 
 day has broken my heart. Yes, it is killing me ! and, 
 mother dear, if I should die to-night " and she tightly held 
 her hands and drew her down to the pillows " if God should 
 send His messenger and take away my breath, thank Him that 
 He saved your child. For mother, mother," and a scarlet 
 blush dyed her blue-veined temples, and she hid her face in 
 her hands, " I thank God I have withstood temptation ! bless 
 Him for that ! and, should I die to-night, be thankful that 
 your child goes down to her grave as pure and stainless as 
 you clasped her, a baby, to your bosom ! There, kiss me, 
 mother and go now, for my head is burning, and oh, 
 so tired ! I shall sleep, perhaps ! good night ! " and, awed 
 into obedience, Mrs. Earle pressed her lips to the flushed 
 forehead and glided from the room. 
 
 All that livelong night the thunder tempest deepened, and 
 lurid lightning flashes alternated with the thick, inky darkness ;
 
 PEACE : OK THE STOLEN WILL. 365 
 
 but darker folds than veiled the heavens shrouded the soul of 
 that poor girl, alone with her desolation, for Despair sat. 
 crouching in her heart, and Madness came, with long, spectral 
 fingers clutching at her weary brain. Alas, poor Leafy Earle ! 
 
 81*
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 " Little do we know of fate ; 
 Perhaps our fortune is not in our power. . 
 
 We are the sport and plaything of high heaven." 
 
 IN the court-room of the City Hall the trial of Augustus 
 Eevere was going on. It was crowded almost to suffocation; 
 for the name and station of the prisoner alone, had he been 
 arraigned for a lesser crime than that with which he stood 
 charged, would have brought thither men who rarely left their 
 mercantile sphere to enter the halls of Justice. The jury were 
 empanelled the judges on the bench the lawyers in their 
 seats and the reporters at their desks with ready pens awaited 
 the opening of the case. 
 
 " It will go hard with the prisoner ! " 
 
 Everybody said so ; not only the rabble, who clustered about 
 the steps of the building to obtain a look at the " bank robber " 
 as he descended the carriage, and pressed close upon the officers 
 when they led him into the court-room, but the dense crowd 
 within, and the group of merchants among whom that pale, 
 haggard man in tfie prisoner's box had mingled for years ; and 
 when the District Attorney rose and opened the case bringing 
 all the keenness and power of his acknowledged forensic ability 
 to bear upon it, touching briefly upon the strong web of circum- 
 stantial evidence he proposed shortly to present before the Court 
 a web, from whose meshes the prisoner could not hope for 
 extrication * then closed with a short, but effective peroration 
 on the magnitude of the crime, and the necessity that the high 
 
 (366)
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 367 
 
 station of the accused should avail nothing with the honorable 
 jurors whose office was to weigh alike high and low, rich and 
 poor, in the scales of impartial Law then, as the Attorney sat 
 down, scarce a soul in that vast auditory but unhesitatingly 
 whispered " Revere is guilty ! Let him suffer the penalty of 
 the law ! " 
 
 The first witness brought to the stand was Revere's in-door 
 man ; and after being duly sworn, the prosecuting attorney put 
 to him a few queries. 
 
 " Was your employer, the man in the prisoner's box, absent 
 from his home on the night of June thirtieth ? " he asked. 
 
 " He was." 
 
 " Do you know the hour of his return ? " 
 
 " I did not go to bed until twelve. Mr. Revere was not in 
 then. Was never in the habit of sitting up for him, as he 
 always used a night key." 
 
 " Was he often from home nights and do you know where 
 his evenings were spent ? " 
 
 " He was away a good deal. "We always thought him at the 
 store. I have heard him say business was bad," replied the 
 honest man, striving to shield the master whom 'he felt that his 
 words were used to condemn. 
 
 " Was there any window, or door, left unfastened, whereby, if 
 the prisoner had enemies, they might have entered and deposited 
 the bills found in his desk ? " 
 
 The man hesitated. The temptation was strong ; but his lips 
 could not frame a lie. 
 
 " There was not," he answered. " It was my duty to attend 
 to the house. That night I fastened up before I went to bed 
 I remember it stormed fast." 
 
 " Had your employer ever, in your hearing, exchanged hard 
 words with any visitor ? Do you know of any enemies, who 
 would have been likely to injure him ? "
 
 368 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " No sir ! Lately, nobody ever came to the house. He sat 
 alone, in the library, when at home." 
 
 " Had you perceived, on the day of the robbery, or at any 
 time previous, any unusual anxiety, or agitation, in the manner 
 of the prisoner ? " 
 
 No sir." 
 . " That will do," said the attorney. 
 
 Several other witnesses, who had been hunted up by the 
 indefatigable lawyer, were then produced ; one, a hackman who 
 testified that he had taken up the prisoner in the vicinity of his 
 residence early on the evening in question, and left him at his 
 store ; another, who swore to having often seen Revere play 
 deeply had seen him lose five hundred dollars at Delmonte's 
 on the night of the burglary, followed by the stake of his gold 
 watch and chain then he had rushed abruptly from the 
 saloon. 
 
 Then came one or two merchants, who gave evidence that 
 the signature on the torn paper found in the vault of the Bank 
 was in the accused's handwriting ; followed by the testimony of 
 the police who found the secreted bills hi Revere's mansion, and 
 that of the Bank officers, proving the identity of the marked 
 
 bills. 
 
 
 
 Then the Attorney closed the prosecution in behalf of the 
 State. Basing his inference of the prisoner's guilt on the strong 
 chain of circumstantial evidence presented ; adducing his ab- 
 sence from home on the night of the robbery, his frenzied rush 
 from the gaming-table where he had vainly endeavored to 
 retrieve his fallen fortune, and the fact of his being on the verge 
 of bankruptcy,' which was confirmed by his strenuous effort?, for 
 several days previous, to obtain money from the brokers at enor- 
 mous percentages ; proceeding to show that the scheme of the 
 burglary had been calculated upon, from the certainty that the
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 3G9 
 
 key of the safe must heave been obtained before the occupation 
 of the vault and how, in a moment of desperation, favored 
 by the darkness of a stormy night, he had rushed from dissipa- 
 tion to the committal of crime ; dwelling on each and every 
 circumstance, linking them into a subtle chain whose every fold 
 gathered closer about the unhappy Revere ; no wonder that a 
 hush settled down on the crowd, and, looking into each other's 
 faces, they whispered " He is guilty ! " 
 
 The counsel for the prisoner arose. 
 
 He was a young man ; but, though his name had not long 
 been recorded on the roll of admitted practitioners, he had 
 already made his mark, for he was no other than the son of a 
 judge upon the bench Louis Howland. But as he stood up 
 before the dense assemblage who had already passed the silent 
 sentence of condemnation upon the prisoner with pale face, 
 earnest, anxious eye, and tightly compressed lips he had more 
 of the air of a desperate man, about to battle a desperate cau.-e, 
 than one in a secure and tenable position. And this was so. 
 
 " It is an almost hopeless case," said Louis Howland, after his 
 first interview with the prisoner in the Tombs, " but, Peace, if 
 there be any legal chicanery by which the strong chain of cir- 
 cumstances can be rent asunder, depend upon it, it shall not 
 remain unemployed. For, on my soul, I believe him to be an 
 innocent man : the victim of a foul conspiracy, but one diffi- 
 cult to prove." 
 
 Louis Howland had straightway visited the Prison after lis- 
 tening to-the astounding revelation Peace made to the home 
 circle ; and, in his noble offer to undertake her father's defence, 
 when he returned from that interview an offer approved by 
 the hearty " Good ! my brave boy ! " of Judge Holland, and 
 Grab's tearful sympathies the grateful girj read another proof 
 of his disinterested devotion.
 
 370 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " Oh, how can I ever repay you ? " she exclaimed warmly 
 and excitedly, as he passed her in the hall preparatory to going 
 down to his office. 
 
 " By making Dr. Palfrey happy," he replied in a low, im- 
 pressive voice. " Peace," he added with a slight flush, " had I 
 known then, what I read to day in his anxious, watchful de- 
 meanor, I should never have lain my heart open to you but 
 you will bury 'the past. Give me a sister's love and make 
 him happy ! " 
 
 And now shivering from head to foot, clasping the railing 
 of the bench before her for support as Louis Rowland arose to 
 plead her father's desperate cause Peace sat between the two 
 who had accompanied her 'thither to the crowded court-room 
 Orah Rowland and Dr. Palfrey. 
 
 Save those two, there were no other females in the court ; 
 and vet, not so, for, as the young counsel arose pushing 
 through the dense crowd came two other forms one, closely 
 veiled, and with the folds of a rich crape shawl drooping limp 
 over tie outline of thin but symmetrical shoulders, and her 
 companion, a neat mulattress, following closely her mistress, who 
 sank down upon a bench only separated from Revere by the 
 railing of the prisoner's box. And, as the tall, veiled woman 
 sank down with head bent upon her breast, and thin white fin- 
 gers playing nervously with the heavy netted fringes of her 
 shawl, a dark-featured man who sat beside her drew a slouched 
 hat farther over his eyes. 
 
 There was a pause before the counsel for the defejjce began 
 during which, like a young knight buckling on his armor 
 before going forth to battle, Louis Rowland briefly gathered 
 about him his little web of arguments ^- resolved to fight right 
 manfully in behalf of the apparently doomed man. 
 
 " Your Honors," he commenced ; but hardly had the words
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 371 
 
 fallen, before an officer of the police stationed near the door 
 pressed hastily through the crowd, and delivered a note into his 
 hands. Pausing a moment to peruse it, a rapid flush went over 
 the young attorney's face, the cloud cleared from his brow he 
 whispered briefly to the officer, who immediately went out and 
 presently re-appeared followed by a tall young man whose fea- 
 tures were concealed by a heavy brimmed hat, whom he ushered 
 to a seat in the witnesses' bench. 
 
 Rowland now went on, speaking rapidly and triumphantly. 
 
 " Your Honors and gentlemen of the Jury, T have little to 
 say I need say but little, in my client's behalf. I need not 
 enter into a lengthy plea, to unravel the apparently complicated 
 web woven so skilfully by my legal opponent it were useless 
 to draw the sword of argument, to clash against the weapons 
 which he has wielded so valiantly I only hurl a single spear, 
 diamond-pointed by Truth. But, gentlemen, let me deal in met- 
 aphors no longer for the time is wasted that withholds from 
 you the proof that yonder prisoner is the victim of an infamous 
 conspiracy in short, is, as" I propose to. briefly show you, an 
 innocent man ! " 
 
 During this little exordium, Peace had risen breathlessly, 
 leaning forward, tightly grasping the railing ; the woman on the 
 bench started suddenly, then sank into her old drooping, hope- 
 less posture ; the man beside her smothered a curse upon his 
 lips, turned pale, and quietly slipped away among the crowd ; 
 while the prisoner raised his bowed head from the railing before 
 him, and seemed inspired with something of that sudden confi- 
 dence infused into his counsel's words and manner. 
 
 " Insufferable ! " whispered the State Attorney to a brother 
 lawyer, with a smile of contempt. " The conceit of these young 
 sprigs is incredible ! What witness has he picked up now, I 
 wonder ? " - then settled back into his seat again.
 
 372 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 Rowland nodded toward the witness's bench, and its occupan* 
 arose. His eye did not rove abroad over the dense mass of 
 human beings who breathlessly viewed this new witness, but 
 drooped downward to the floor. His face was haggard and care- 
 worn. A sudden whisper ran through the crowd. 
 
 " Carl Linn, the actor ! " 
 
 Orah Rowland's breath came thickly, and she drew her veil. 
 The Attorney nervously shifted his position ; the reporters 
 paused with uplifted pens ; and the lawyers and jury leaned for- 
 ward. The court was still as death. 
 
 " Your name ? " asked the examining lawyer, after the wit- 
 ness was sworn. 
 
 The reporters dipped their pens afresh. 
 
 " I am known as Jasper Golding" he replied in a low hard 
 voice. 
 
 Looks of surprise were rife among the crowd. 
 
 " Look upon the prisoner. Have you ever seen him before ? " 
 
 At Jasper's first appearance on the stand, Revere had re- 
 garded him with a bewildered expression. The years that had 
 fled since the father looked upon his boy in the parlor of the 
 academy boarding-house had swept away every likeness of the 
 frank, genial, sunny-haired youth, and brought instead the pale, 
 care-traced features of the man. But when that name, " Jasper- 
 Golding," was uttered, Revere sprang up with extended arms 
 as if he would fain have clasped him. But Jasper smiled a 
 bitter, scornful smile and folded his own arms resolutely across 
 his breast. That gesture thrust him out ; and the unhappy man 
 sank back, covering his eyes with his hand. His own child had 
 rejected him ! 
 
 " You know the prisoner ? " again queried the lawyer, when 
 this brief pantomimic scene, on which the court looked with 
 astonished gaze, was over." 
 
 "Yes!"
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 373 
 
 The monosyllable was cold and hard, and fell on men's hearts 
 like iron. 
 
 " When did you last see him ? " 
 
 " On the night of the thirtieth of June." 
 
 " Where ? " 
 
 " First, in C Street ; after that, at his own house." 
 
 " Will you repeat to the court what took place there which 
 jii.ty go to prove or disprove the alleged crime of the prisoner?" 
 
 Jasper spoke laconically, and in a Ipw, clear voice. You 
 might have heard a pin drop in the court, so profound the 
 silence. 
 
 " It was late on the night of the thirtieth of June, or rather 
 on the morning of the first of July for three o'clock had 
 struck. I was returning from the law office, where I had 
 remained copying papers.' In passing Delmonte's gambling 
 saloon, Mr. Revere stepped out just before me. His manner 
 was excited I followed him. The rain was falling in tor- 
 rents. I entered his mansion behind him. I went into his 
 library close upon his steps." 
 
 " And why did you steal into the prisoner's house at dead of 
 night ? " interrupted the State Attorney. 
 
 A peculiarly bitter smile crept about the witness's lips. 
 & " Curiosity, sir, solely ! Wanted to take a peep upon the 
 merchant prince in his sanctum ! I had heard that the inner 
 lives of such men differ greatly from their outer!" and he 
 fixed his eye on Revere's. " Mere idle curiosity, sir, upon 
 my honor ! " 
 
 There was something in the cool, easy, almost reckless audac- 
 ity of tliis^ reply, that quite took away the attorney's desire for 
 questioning the witness further. 
 
 " What followed ? " asked Howland, with a triumphant glance 
 toward the crest-fallen lawyer. 
 
 32
 
 374 PEACE : OK THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " Mr. Revere lighted a lamp upon the mantel ; his face was 
 pale ; he uttered words by which I learned that he had lost his 
 last dollar at the gaming table. Afterwards he grew calmer 
 went into an adjoining room and fell into a heavy sleep. 
 Then I left my hiding-place among the window-curtains, and sat 
 down in the chair he left before the grate. Perhaps an hour 
 passed the heavy breathings of the sleeper came from the 
 adjoining room I had risen to leave, when a sharp click of 
 the outer door-lock arrested me. The library door leading into 
 the hall stood ajar when I heard the key turn in the lock my 
 first thought was of house-breakers, and I stepped back into my 
 concealment. A man entered the hall stealthily, then stepped 
 into the library. He paused listened, with his ear in the 
 direction of the bed-chamber, like one familiar with the house 
 took up the night-lamp drew near a desk by the window 
 where I stood concealed. The key was in the lock he took a 
 roll of bills from his own pocket-book and laid them in an inner 
 drawer of the desk turned the key replaced the lamp upon 
 the mantel listened again at the door whence issued the heavy 
 respirations of the sleeper then crept stealthily out, closing 
 the street door gently. Ten minutes after, I followed him." 
 
 " Did you see this man's face ? " asked Rowland in the 
 breathless pause that followed. 
 
 I did." 
 
 " Who was he ? " 
 
 The judges leaned forward ; the lawyers and jury rose, to a 
 man ; the reporters lifted their eager eyes, and poised their pens 
 over the paper ; a strong hand held Peace, or she would have 
 fallen ; and the living tide surged forward in the court-room like 
 a great upheaved sea-wave. 
 
 " Witness, his name ! " 
 
 "Hugh Golding."
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 375 
 
 There was a great sensation in the court a sudden expira- 
 tion of a thousand breaths then the tide flowed back to its 
 channel again. The Judge's charge was uttered in a few words ; 
 the jury did not retire, but, after a brief consultation, sat down. 
 All was still. 
 
 " Prisoner, stand up and face the jury ! " 
 
 Revere stood up. 
 
 " Guilty or not guilty, Mr. Foreman ? " 
 
 " Not guilty ! " 
 
 A loud huzza rang through the court-room, and the heavy 
 stamping of men's feet sent up a cloud of white dust that quite 
 hid the heaving, pressing throng ; but louder than the shouts of 
 the excited multitude rang out a shrill cry. 
 
 " It is Peace. Joy has overcome her ! " said Louis Howland, 
 bounding away from the crowd pressing against the prisoner's 
 box. But no ! On his way he met the pale, tearful girl sup- 
 ported by Dr. Palfrey and his sister. Too grateful and excited 
 for words, she mutely pressed his hand. 
 
 " Make way ! a lady has fainted ! " cried a gentleman, 
 bearing in the direction of an open window the form of the 
 veiled woman who had crouched down near the prisoner's 
 box during the trial. " Bring water ! " and he flung back her 
 veil. 
 
 " The same woman I saw at the Tombs ! " said Dr. Palfrey 
 mechanically. 
 
 But Augustus Revere had heard that cry ; and, springing 
 past them all motioning back the crowd kneeling down 
 where they had lain her on a bench near the window drawing 
 her head to his bosom and tenderly sweeping back the long 
 waves of midnight hair from her pallid, shrunken temples, he 
 whispered huskily, " Julie my wife ! " 
 
 " Yes, I heard yesterday that she was released from the Asy-
 
 S7G PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 lum over a week ago," said a bystander. " Poor woman ! 
 Here comes her faithful slave ! " and the mulattress, Minnie, 
 knelt down beside her. 
 
 When the decision of the jury had been pronounced, Jasper 
 Golding pressed out through the swaying crowd. In the vesti- 
 bule, he became wedged among the human mass pressing in from 
 the outer doors. Close at his side, striving like himself to effect 
 an egress, with heavy hat shading his dark features, stood a tall 
 figure. Side by side they went out together, and stood a 
 moment on the pavement. Their eyes met. 
 
 " Nay, put up your weapon ! " said Jasper in a rapid whis- 
 per, for the inlaid butt of a revolver was in the hand the tall 
 man had partially withdrawn from his bosom. " Put that up, 
 Hugh Golding ! You would not dare shoot me here, for a 
 dozen officers would arrest you ere you had taken ten steps. I 
 will not harm you. Go ! if your life is worth aught to you 
 go quickly ! " 
 
 The humiliated man crept away.
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 Many a peril have I passed, 
 Nor know I why this next appears the last ! 
 Yet so my heart forebodes, but must not fear. 
 
 BYKON'S CORSAIR. 
 
 Into the Silent Land ! 
 
 Ah ! who shall lead her thither? 
 
 Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, 
 
 And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand. 
 
 Who leads her with a gentle hand 
 
 Thither, O thither, 
 
 Into the Silent Land ? 
 
 FROM THE GERMAN OF SALIS. 
 
 THE large and superb horse that Hugh Golding rode walked 
 slowly up the hill-path leading to the Nest. The loosened 
 bridle rein lay over his arching neck. 
 
 It was the evening of the day of the trial. As Golding rode 
 slowly up the narrow hill-path now among the dark shadows 
 of overhanging firs, now out into some open space where the 
 bright starlight lay clear and unflecked and the light winds 
 lifted his hair his brow unknitted, his eye softened, and 
 thoughts that were long strangers flitted through his brain. 
 
 Certainly he seemed wonderfully self-possessed in that hour 
 of danger, when he knew the emissaries of the law were upon 
 his track ; and yet, this coolness was quite in character with his 
 whole career. 
 
 " They will not seek me here," he reasoned. " No one but 
 Smyth knows about it and he will not betray me. Mean- 
 
 32* (377)
 
 378 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 time, leagues of ocean shall lie between me and the hounds of 
 the law. Ha ! ha ! Augustus Revere and, ingrate whom I 
 fostered as my child I shall escape ye both ! Beyond the 
 waters, with the singing bird I shall lure to a summer nest, I 
 can laugh at Fate, and take gratefully the good the gods have 
 provided for me ! " and a contemptuous laugh disturbed the 
 still night air. "Ha! ha! there are stores of gold in my 
 coffers the hand of the ' burglar ' never touched ! That plot 
 was a failure : and now I must save my neck from the halter ! 
 But a truce to fear to-night ! Leafy Leafy ! I must 
 never seek your presence in a mood like this ! " and his eye 
 softened. 
 
 Notwithstanding the doctrine of total depravity, let us most 
 firmly believe, that never yet was there nature so bedim- 
 med by evil, but sometime grew illumined by rays emanat- 
 ing from a purer moral atmosphere ; and yet, there was little 
 to commend in the resolve of that man's heart, as, riding slowly 
 toward the Nest, he said with honesty of intention, " This night 
 will I ask Leafy to become my wife ! " From the artist-girl's 
 pure soul, temptation had fallen, as the rain is shed from the 
 oiled plumage of a bird : and so he murmured as he rode along, 
 " Well, well I have sins enough on my shoulders to bear, and 
 will add no more to the list, but woo and win her fairly ! after 
 all, she is a glorious girl beautiful, fresh, and pure as a water- 
 lily ! What the devil made me speak of her so lightly to 
 Smyth yesterday, I wonder ? Confound the fellow ! I wish 
 he'd not always meet me with his winks and shrugs and smiles ! 
 It makes a man say what he wouldn't think of ! But Jove ! 
 I'm getting over nice ! it can never come to her ears, nor 
 harm her for my bird seldom leaves her cage." 
 
 In that hour with unknitted brows, lips relaxed into a 
 smile, and even a dreamy softness in his midnight eyes, giving
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 379 
 
 token of the fascinations he might have possessed in his better 
 moods Hugh Golding's face was very like the unfinished por- 
 trait which lay upon the easel in the studio the face Leafy 
 Earle had always seen ; every feature the cold eye, the 
 cynical smile of the sensual lips toned down to deceptive 
 tenderness. 
 
 " Yes, I have been villain long enough, Heaven knows ! " he 
 mused, " and certainly, Conscience hasn't troubled me overmuch 
 with her qualms. I think I must be minus that monitor," and 
 he laughed lightly. " But why the devil can't I reform ? It 
 strikes me that, when a man begins to get gray hairs into his 
 head," and he ran his white fingers lightly through his locks, 
 their raven hue sparsely flecked with silver threads " it's 
 about time he should turn Methodist and Benedict. But I 
 wonder, if, after all, I shall live contented ? " and the habitual 
 scornful curve deepened * about his lips. " 'Fore heaven, I 
 couldn't endure a tame life ! I'd rather put a bullet through my 
 brain. Bah ! what put that ugly idea into my head, I won- 
 der ? " and he slightly shuddered, gazing over his shoulder into 
 the dusky gloaming. " Pshaw ! " touching his horse's flank 
 with his riding-whip, " I'm getting nervous ! else that old For- 
 tune-teller's words wouldn't rush uppermost into my mind, where 
 they've slept these ten, aye, fifteen years. I was younger, then. 
 The old hag ! how her snake eyes glittered, because I stole a 
 kiss from her pretty daughter ! Let me see her curse ran 
 after this fashion, l Her you would wed, shall briny you to your 
 doom! ' The old crone ! But strange, it should come up to- 
 night! If I were superstitious, I should say it was a warning. 
 Well, after all it can do no harm to hurry our flight. The 
 Law has Argus eyes, and it will need all my caution to elude 
 it. The foreign steamer must have us on board to-morrow. 
 Come, Selim, we must be no laggards now ! " and the noble 
 animal quickened his pace toward the Nest.
 
 380 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 A countless myriad of stars twinkled in the heavens ; and 
 the young moon timidly climbed her way from the western 
 horizon whence the sunset splendors had not wholly faded. 
 Faint streaks of gold and amber lay about the bed of trailing 
 clouds whereon the sun had died, loath to Jeave the fair green 
 earth, over which he had all day stood sentinel. But at length 
 the sunset glories grew fainter ; the vestal Queen trode her way 
 with firmer steps, flinging down a royal largess of silver to her 
 subject, Earth. 
 
 But, at the western window, gazing afar on the horizon's rim, 
 or watching the crescent moon's ascent into fair fields of heaven, 
 stood no artist-girl with dreamy eye ; nor in the vine-covered 
 door-way or latticed porch, awaiting her lover's approach, as she 
 had always stood of erst. And, catching no glimpse of her 
 fluttering white robes, the rider exclaimed disappointedly, 
 
 " She is not awaiting me ! I'faith a bad augury for me ! 
 On, Selim ! " 
 
 His foot crossed the threshold. 
 
 " Leafy ! " The name echoed through the little hall. 
 
 " Leafy ! " But no response came. 
 
 He crossed the passage and entered the little studio. 
 
 Pictures, books and flowers, were as at his last visit ; the easel 
 stood at the western window ; a lamp burning dimly on the 
 mantel, revealed the portrait. 
 
 " Dear child ! " he murmured, pausing beside it, a smile upon 
 his lip. 
 
 Again he spoke " Leafy ! " 
 
 A step came. He turned ; it was Mrs. Earle. 
 
 " Good evening ! And where is my pet ? " he asked, extend- 
 ing his hand. 
 
 No reply came, nor was the proffered hand taken ; but no 
 marble could have been whiter than the woman's face.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 381 
 
 " You do not answer ! Is Leafy ill ? " and he took a step 
 toward the adjoining chamber. 
 
 " Hugh Golding, come here ! " and she paused beside the 
 easel " come here. Is this your face ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Golding with a smile. " Love is a flatterer, 
 though I " he added. 
 
 " Love !' love !" echoed Mrs. Earle bitterly. "Oh, traitor, 
 fiend, devil ! That I could thus blot out every memory of 
 you ! " and with a quick gesture she seized a brush, dipped it 
 into a mixture fresh upon the palette, and drew it across the 
 canvas. 
 
 Hugh Golding stood enraged. " Madam madam ! " he 
 said, " you are mad ! Has your daughter sent you with these 
 insulting words ? By heaven ! if I thought so " and his 
 eye grew stern. 
 
 " Mad ? no ! " and an abrupt laugh Came from that woman 
 standing so defiantly at the angry man's side " That is denied 
 me ! " and she clasped her hands tightly above her forehead. 
 " For me there is only memory and sorrow for her, rest ! 
 Hugh Golding, you dare not tell me that you loved her whose 
 hand painted this ? " 
 
 ^ " Heavens ! yes ! madam a thousand times, yes ! What 
 do you stand there mocking me for ? I will see Leafy ! " and 
 he took a step nearer the door. 
 
 " Aye, you loved her ! you loved her " and Mrs. Earle 
 repeated his words in a low, level monotone, but with bitter 
 sarcasm ; then, her mood changing, she advanced nearer, and 
 screamed in frenzied accents, " So the hawk loves the poor 
 white dove and the snake, the charmed bird. Deny it, if you 
 can, Hugh Golding ! " Step by step had she advanced toward 
 him her arm upraised her tone shriller her eye sterner ; 
 and that bold bad man cowered under her gaze.
 
 382 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 But his anger mastered his fear. He caught her uplifted 
 arm in his iron grasp. 
 
 " For God's sake, woman, tell me what you mean ! Do you 
 hear ? " and he shook her forcibly. " You meet me with 
 insult with ravings. By heavens ! I will not bear this, even 
 from the mother of my future wife ! But, pshaw ! " and he 
 dropped her arm "I waste tune on a doting woman ! Lead 
 me to Leafy ! " 
 
 "'Wife! wife!" and Mrs. Earle repeated the word scorn- 
 fully. " Hugh Golding, do not come here with lies on your 
 lips ! You did not utter that word yesterday, when you made 
 my darling's name the theme of sneer and jest. It comes too 
 late now . too late ! " and she leaned faintly against the 
 wall. 
 
 " Madam," and the angry man's eyes flashed fire, " be- 
 ware ! You will tempt me too far. I acknowledge that I 
 uttered those words. I was a dolt ! fool ! what you will ;' but 
 you shall not gainsay my words now I No man would have 
 uttered what you have spoken, and escaped me ; but you are a 
 woman. But let us have done with this ! " 
 
 Mrs. Earle stood before him in the doorway. 
 
 "Tell me truly, as you would upon your dying bed. Hugh 
 Golding, did you come here to-night to ask Leafy Earle for your 
 wife ? " 
 
 " I did ! " he answered haughtily. " Now call her, or let me 
 pass." 
 
 Mrs. Earle stood aside ; and such a laugh as almost froze the 
 blood in his veins, fell from her lips. 
 
 " That is all ! Go in now ! She is in there ask her to be 
 your bride ! She will be very quiet, and listen ! Or perhaps 
 you will find her sleeping ! Wake her gently gently ! There, 
 go in now ! "
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 383 
 
 With something like awe creeping over him, Golding paused 
 upon the threshold. 
 
 A waxen taper burned faintly on the white-draperied dressing- 
 table. Pictures hung on the wall ; little graceful trifles of the 
 toilet lay on the bureau ; an oval mirror gleamed dimly ; a 
 wardrobe-door stood ajar, revealing the light summer robes in 
 which the artist-girl had arrayed herself; two dainty slippers, still 
 arched into roundness, lay upon the carpet ; a bouquet withered 
 in a glass upon the mantel; and the scarlet blossoms of the 
 Indian creeper lay in a shower where they had dropped in at 
 the open casement. But Hugh Golding saw nothing, sa^ r e the 
 outlines of a slender form on a low French bed in the extremity 
 of the apartment. 
 
 " Leafy, are you ill ? " and he bent above her with a 
 kiss. 
 
 But, good God ! what icy touch met his' own ! what marble 
 lips ! Was she was she and his heart framed a word his 
 lips refused to utter was she, dead ? No ! no ! Had not Mrs. 
 Earle said he would find her sleeping ? She had been very ill, 
 for the face within its frame of chestnut hair was fearfully pale 
 but she was only sleeping, and would waken at his call. 
 
 " Leafy ! Leafy ! Speak to me ! hear my defence ! Tell me 
 you forgive ! " and he raised her head in his arms. 
 
 But it dropped, a leaden weight, upon Ms breast. Pale as 
 death, he laid her back upon the pillows. The words that would 
 have saved her, came too late too late for Leafy Earle was 
 dead! 
 
 flow had she perished ? There were no blue livid lines 
 about the sweet young mouth, to denote the subtle workings of 
 Poison. No ! the gentle sleeper had not cowardly fled from 
 the woe that weakened her brain. 
 
 Had God quietly taken her breath while she slept ? It must
 
 884 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 be ! for, so perfect the repose of the exquisite, statuesque form, 
 that it seemed but an easy transition to another life, a sleep, 
 on earth an awakening in heaven ! Aye, in heaven ! for 
 surely waiting Angels had borne the released spirit of that sinless 
 one up to the Father's bosom. 
 
 And yet, not thus had she been taken. 
 
 " So she died ! ' l and Mrs. Earle stood beside the awe- 
 stricken man, and folded down the drapery from the fair white 
 bosom whereon one black streak the finger-mark of the scath- 
 ing lightning showed the stroke that sent her spirit to her 
 God. " So she died ! " murmured the miserable mother in a 
 hollow voice. " With her maddened brain on fire striving to 
 escape from Thought and Memory she went out into the mid- 
 night tempest, where God sent the stroke ; for, so I found her, 
 with His finger-mark there ! " and she gently touched the 
 scarred bosom. " And here she lies," and Mrs. Earle's voice 
 grew shrill as she laid her hand upon the arm of the miserable 
 man who cowered away from her touch, " yesterday, bloom- ' 
 ing to-day, cold, pale, dead ! But, Hugh Golding, I will not 
 reproach you. It is well well ! " and the stricken mother 
 folded her arms calmly. "It is well well! aye, better to die 
 so, than live to shame, disgrace, sin ! I thank God that He took 
 her ! He knew what was best for my beautiful my darling. 
 God was more merciful than man ! " 
 
 Lower and lower cowered the wretched man, staggering 
 faintly against the wall sinking beside the bed reaching 
 forth one trembling hand to touch the long, dishevelled hair 
 oversweeping the pillows. 
 
 " Get up ! Go away ! You shall not touch her ! you shall 
 not lay a finger upon her ! it would sully the dead ! " and 
 Mrs. Earle pointed to the open door. " Go again into your own 
 world of Passion and Sin ! go, to madden other brains to
 
 PEACE: OK THE STOLEN WILL. 385 
 
 break other hearts, to whom, haply, the thunderbolt may not 
 come ! Go ! and forget, if you can, how died one, stainless, 
 young, and beautiful, whom God would not let you harm for 
 He wanted her for an Angel in heaven ! "" 
 
 And, mute and awe-stricken, Hugh Golding crept away. 
 
 33
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 Thus lived thus died she : never more on her 
 Shall sorrow light, or shame. She was not made 
 Through years or moons the inner weight to bear 
 Which colder hearts endure till they are laid 
 By age in earth. 
 
 BYEON. 
 
 DEATH is a royal conqueror, and Consumption is his avant- 
 courier, heralding his approach. And the messenger goes for- 
 ward hangs his crimson banners on the cheeks of his surren- 
 dering victims mirrors the flash and glitter of his armor in 
 their sparkling eyes ; and the sound of their hollow coughs and 
 faltering footsteps are but the feeble echoes of his trumpet calls. 
 And afterward, when the Citadel is weakened, then conies the 
 Victor, emblazoned in the panoply of triumph, to gather up his 
 spoils. 
 
 Oh, would he only add to the list of his victims the sad, the 
 heart-broken, the earth-weary they, who, exhausted with their 
 life-campaign, capitulate willingly, even joyfully, to the great 
 conqueror ! would he might spare the young, the beautiful, 
 to whom existence is a coveted joy, sweetened by Love, Hope, 
 and a thousand pleasures ! then, indeed, his inexorable sum- 
 mons were not so terrible ! But oftenest, he binds to his chariot 
 wheels, as imperial Roman Caesar sought a Cleopatra to add 
 splendor to his triumphal march, the most brilliant, young, and 
 beautiful but to whom, alas ! as to the proud Egyptian queen, 
 no aspic poison from the Libyan weeds can bring release from 
 his thrall ! 
 
 (386)
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 387 
 
 Jasper Golding went straight from the crowded court-room to 
 the death-bedof his child-wife. 
 
 It had been even at " the eleventh hour " when Jasper en- 
 tered the City Hall where Revere's trial was going on ; and 
 there had been a strong struggle in his heart. He, alone, of all 
 living beings, possessed a knowledge which would save a fellow- 
 being from the disgrace of crime and the severest penalty of the 
 law ; and that fellow-being was one to whom the ties of blood, if 
 not affection, allied him. But had he acted a father's part 
 toward him ? Had he not, rather, ignored his existence, after 
 dowering him with his sullied birthright ? and did this man, 
 who had shown his own offspring no mercy, deserve it at his 
 hands ? 
 
 Brooding over such thoughts all the weeks of Revere's im- 
 prisonment failing to appear at his preliminary examination 
 before his committal to the Tombs, where a word would have 
 saved him Jasper obeyed the first and natural emotion of an 
 outraged, wounded, and proud spirit ; but latterly, the inherent 
 honor of his soul pleaded against so ignoble a revenge, and whis- 
 pered, " Return good for evil ! " 
 
 Had the young man known aught of his father's heart- 
 yearnings, and the subtle cunning of the evil Golding, who 
 feared, lest, in the parent's acknowledgment of his son, his own 
 power over him would cease then, something of filial love 
 would have prompted him to a widely different course ; for his 
 heart, though proudly sensitive, yielded to the slightest touch of 
 affection. 
 
 But, instead, he only harbored a species of silent scorn, almost 
 hatred. 
 
 On the night when, in passing Delmonte's, he saw his father 
 issue thence, pale, haggard, and walking excitedly homeward, an 
 unaccountable impulse urged him to follow his footsteps. Often
 
 388 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN 
 
 in the thronged streets he had stood beside Inm watching the 
 merchant's cold, proud, impassive face then glided away to 
 brood over his disgrace. He had heard the story of Revere's 
 domestic sorrow in the insanity of his beautiful wife ; but of his 
 inner life he knew nothing and a wild desire prompted him to 
 follow him into his solitude. And, as he stood concealed among 
 the heavy windowrdrapery, a sudden purpose took possession of 
 his mind : he would boldly confront him ! the son should stand 
 face to fafie with his father ! , 
 
 But the web of circumstances restrained Mm. He went forth 
 the possessor of an important secret ; and then came the exulta- 
 tion of anticipated triumph. When, next day, men spoke of the 
 arrest of the merchant prince, he only closed his lips tightly, 
 muttering to himself triumphantly, " The scales of Justice have 
 turned. I will not save him ! " 
 
 But the pleadings of innate honor could not be crushed. He 
 would savl him ; but he would never forgive him. And when, 
 in the court-room, he met that look from his father's eyes a 
 look appealing for reconciliation and tenderness the old scorn- 
 ful resolve crept over him like an iron wave ; and he shut his 
 heart against its better pleadings, hurled forth a freezing, de- 
 fiant glance and in that glance, disowned him. Misguided 
 Jasper ! 
 
 An^ so he went forth from the crowded court, and returned to 
 the home where Death waited for Gabrielle. 
 
 Lying on heaped up pillows curly rings of hair swept away 
 from a moist, pale forehead eyes burning brilliantly under 
 long lashes that swept cheeks colorless as death, save for two 
 hectic spots glowing with a brighter crimson than the heart of 
 June's damask roses her lips, threads of vermeil parted over 
 glistening pearls blue veins, tinted with dark violet streaks, 
 weaving a net-work over thin temples and the diaphanous
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 389 
 
 hands that grasped a bouquet of flowers so Jasper found 
 her. 
 
 Never, in her most brilliant flush of triumph, when her ex- 
 quisitely chiselled limbs bounded through the vigorous mazes or 
 sank in the dreamy, undulating waves of oriental dances when 
 the crowded theatre rang with applause and a rain of flowers fell 
 at her feet never was Gabrielle so brilliantly, startlingly beau- 
 tiful. 
 
 Jasper motioned the attendant to go out, then drew fhe dying 
 girl's head to his bosom for he saw the darkening shadows of 
 Azrael's wing hovering over her face. 
 
 " Jasper, stay close beside me. Don't leave me ! " she whis- 
 pered. 
 
 The pressure of his arms reassured her; a meek, loving, 
 child-like smile rippled about her lips. 
 
 " I am so happy so happy here ! " she said. " A little 
 while ago while you were away a cold hand lay on my 
 heart. But it has fled now. I shall sleep soon for I am very 
 weary, Jasper ! " and she threw up a strange searching look 
 into his face. 
 
 A thrill went over his frame. What meant that glance? 
 Did she know whose icy hand chilled the life-tide in her 
 heart? 
 
 " Gabrielle ! " ,he whispered ; but his heart failed. He bent 
 his head ; left a long kiss on her moistened forehead ; and the 
 query died on his lips. 
 
 The dying girl comprehended him. Laying her head upon 
 his shoulder, she whispered, 
 
 " Jasper, bend down your ear. I have been wanting to tell 
 
 you all along for many days how I can never grow strong 
 
 and well again. Jasper, do not fear to talk .of this ! I know it 
 
 all I am dying ! Don't weep, Jasper ! I want to tell you 
 
 33*
 
 390 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 how grateful, how happy, you have made me. It was good of 
 you to love me at all to wed me. You might have been 
 wicked, and forsaken me, like as many proud men would ; but 
 you did not. Jasper, your heart was good, and you loved me 
 but somebody had been there before me ! Don't start up ! don't 
 look at me ! I know it all ! I heard them talk about it at the 
 theatre ; and that benefit night, when I slipped into the actresses' 
 box unseen, I watched a proud, beautiful face bent upon you. 
 It was hers ! Her e"yes were proud and dark, but her lip was 
 soft and tender. Then, I knew she loved you ! then, I saw 
 that -the little dancing-girl was no fitting wife for you. I was 
 ignorant of many tilings and you were kind, and pitied me, 
 and taught me, for you loved me as a child a little one ; but, 
 Jasper, I could never climb into the high places of your soul ! " 
 
 " Gabrielle Oh Gabrielle ! Don't talk so! I love you! 
 You must stay for me ! " and he clasped her more tightly. 
 
 " Hush ! " she whispered, a few tears crushed under her eye- 
 lids. " Hush ! You will make me want to live and that 
 would be wicked now. It is best that I go ; you will be happier 
 then. I have thanked the Virgin that I can go before, and leave 
 you. That proud, dark-eyed girl will make your future brighter 
 than I. TeU me, Jasper, Jiave you not loved her ? " 
 
 There, beside the dying, there were no secrets kept. Jasper 
 bowed his head. . 
 
 " I knew it, mon ami ! " and Gabrielle sat upright and 
 spoke calmly. "And now, promise me after I have been 
 gone a little while, you will go and tell her all. You will 
 remember how I wanted this you will do 'this, Jasper ? " 
 
 Again the young man's head was bowed in token of assent. 
 No emotion of earthly passion thrilled his frame in that solemn 
 hour ; he seemed listening to the words of an angel. 
 
 For a little tune, Gabrielle lay very quiet. Her face seemed
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 391 
 
 exalted, pure, holy. A tender smile played about her lips. 
 Then she spoke. 
 
 " Jasper, I have thought a great deal about it of late the 
 life I led at the theatre. I see now, how wicked it was to go 
 there and dance ; I am very sorry. But I had never known 
 any other life I had almost lived upon the stage. I did not 
 know then, why they stamped and cheered why they threw 
 gems and flowers before me," and a faint blush crept over her 
 white face till it died among, the damp curls upon her forehead. 
 <k But, Jasper, I kept my heart pure through it all ; I never lis- 
 tened ; I never took their gifts ; I never loved any one, till you 
 came. Do you believe God will think me very wicked, Jas- 
 per ? " and her dimming eyes sought his. 
 
 " Gabrielle, you are stainless as snow ! God will make you 
 one of his angels ! But don't talk so ! I cannot bear it ! " 
 and his head was bent to hers. 
 
 " Jasper, I have no fear to die," she whispered calmly, fold- 
 ing her arm lovingly over his neck. " The Virgin will plead 
 for me, and Jesus is all-merciful. I have found consolation in 
 this!" and she drew a small gilded Catholic Bible from 
 beneath her. pillows. " This has told me the true way ! " 
 pressing a small golden cross to her lips. " It is good to die 
 here, on your heart to look into the coming years and know 
 you will not forget me ! And you will be happy yet ! " 
 
 She raised her head with momentary strength, and her dying 
 words were uttered in prophetic tones : " You will be happy 
 yet ! " Then she sank wearily back. 
 
 " Lay my head on your heart. You have loved me a little ? 
 a little, Jasper?" 
 
 " Much much ! Oh . Gabrielle ! " and tears dropped 
 on her face where a bluish tinge darkened about the sweet 
 mouth and a mist gathered in the dimming eyes.
 
 392 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 " These tears ! these tears ! " she murmured, faintly smiling. 
 " I am happy now ! Hold me close over your heart ! Take 
 my hands so ! " sliding them into his. " Yours are warm, 
 Jasper mine are cold cold ! Kiss me quick, Jasper ! 
 I am going ! " and a short gasp upheaved the fluttering 
 chest. 
 
 Jasper bent down. But the eyes into which he looked saw 
 not ; the lips he touched gave back no answering pressure ; for 
 Death had been there before him, and rifled the kiss. Not a 
 sigh not a groan, only a tighter clasping of his hands a 
 quiver of the veined eyelids ere they closed a heavier sinking 
 of the slight form in his arms. 
 
 It was over ! Gabrielle, the dancing-girl, was dead ! 
 
 When the sunset shadows were slanting into the room where 
 Jasper sat beside his dead, the door softly opened and two forms 
 stole in beside him. In that hour, the repentant father took his 
 softened son to .his heart ; and a fair-haired girl, whose face 
 brought him a memory of hers whose pale, gentle features had 
 never faded from Childhood's morning twilight his angel 
 mother's came and mingled her tears with his beside the 
 death-couch. Peace had met her brother. 
 
 And Louis Rowland, who had brought them thither, paused a 
 few moments with the nurse in the outer room, then went back 
 to his own home. 
 
 " How did he meet them ? Are they reconciled ? asked 
 his sister excitedly, meeting him upon the threshold of the 
 library. 
 
 " Orah," and he took her hand and drew her down beside 
 him " Orah, be calm. Henceforth* there can be no bitterness 
 between father and son. Sorrow is a softener and a sanctifier. 
 I left them beside the death-couch of Jasper's wife."
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 393 
 
 Orah's hand tightened convulsively over her brother's, then 
 she released them ; and as he left her alone, tears dropped 
 silently over her interlocked fingers.
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 But all is over I am one the more 
 
 To baffled millions who have gone before. 
 
 BYRON. 
 
 I expect a judgment shortly at the day of judgment. 
 
 BLEAK HOUSE. 
 
 TINT blades of grass and sweet wild flowers crept lovingly 
 into the sod that covered Leafy Earle. The artist-girl slept 
 among birds and flowers, and all of Nature's beautiful things 
 that in life she had loved so well. 
 
 The thicket of wild roses grew near but their petals had 
 withered and fallen long before, how typical of the brief, 
 sweet life of the sleeper ! The stately whitewood tree, under 
 whose rent branches the mother had found her child," lay prone 
 trailing its fallen, giant length down the hill-slope shivered 
 and blackened by the same hungry lightning-stroke that lapped 
 up the sleeper's life. 
 
 There had been a little funeral for Leafy Earle. The people 
 came up from the valley ; and there were many who wept, look- 
 ing on the fair young creature stricken down in her youth and 
 beauty. The village-bell tolled, and the pastor read prayers 
 over her, committing earth to earth and dust to dust. The 
 village sexton filled in the grave, smoothed the sod above it ; 
 then a few kind-hearted women lingered to comfort the bereaved 
 mother, and beg her to leave her lonely retreat. 
 
 But their offers were gently, yet firmly, refused. In life, her 
 child hajj been her sole care in death, she must watch the 
 
 (394)
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 395 
 
 place where they laid her and so they went back to their 
 homes, and the solitude of the Nest was unbroken ; and the 
 stricken mother kept a lonely vigil with her woe. 
 
 A mother's love how strong, how deathless ! Born at the 
 cradle ending not with the tomb but following the dead 
 over the portals of Eternity ; perishing not when the sods sink 
 heavier on the pulseless breast, and the death-mould lays its 
 crown in the shining hair ! holds the wide earth another affec- 
 tion so holy and enduring ? 
 
 Other loves perish. Children nursed at the same white 
 bosom become parted and estranged in the great world-strife ; 
 between husband and wife they who promised at the altar to 
 love and cherish "till death do us part" widens often "a 
 great gulf," over whose precipitous cliffs of Pride, or Hate, 
 neither may cross again to join the other ; with the lover and 
 beloved, error, jealousy, or deceit, may weave their treacherous 
 thralls to part each kindred heart forever, 
 
 " And never either finds another 
 To free the hollow heart from paining ! 
 They stand aloof the scars remaining 
 Like cliffs that have been rent asunder." 
 
 Or Change may come ! The eye that kindled at our glance 
 grows cold the fingers that clasped ours give back no loving 
 pressure the heart that welcomed our footfall throbs not a 
 pulse-beat quicker at our coming new ties are formed, for so 
 it is that fresh loves build ever on the ashes of dead ones but 
 the Mother-Love never fades, or dims. Though new joys spring 
 in her pathway and other feet make music in her ears, she never 
 forgets the dead. The mother's heart has room enough for :i!l. 
 
 Writing this, my heart goes out to yonder graveyard where 
 two sleepers lie a dark-eyed girl,- who went home early in her
 
 PEACE : OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 youth and beauty, and a little one, who lay down to sleep with 
 but the shadows of nine short summers in his golden hair ; and 
 to-day, for them a mother still mourns who will not be comforted, 
 because, like weeping Rachel, her children " are not." 
 
 But alas, if Remorse wrings the heart of the mourner! 
 Grief-stricken Mrs. Earle was less miserable in her sorrow, 
 than the pale, haggard man who; with the shadows of night, 
 crept stealthily from the dense wood of pines and knelt at Leafy 
 Earle's grave. 
 
 His attire was disordered, his thick hair dishevelled, and his 
 frame trembled with fear and weakness as he feebly staggered 
 forward. 
 
 Hugh Golding was a hunted man. For two days and nights, 
 the officers of the law had been on the search hi the great city ; 
 every vessel leaving port had been searched, cutting off his 
 contemplated avenue of escape by the foreign steamer ; adver- 
 tisements, with descriptions of his person and offers of reward, 
 were everywhere ; and in desperation he had bent his footsteps 
 to the spot of all others most terrible to him, and for two days 
 and nights lain concealed in the dense pine forests. 
 
 " Hunted down like a dog ! " he muttered as he silnk upon 
 the turf. " It has come to this, then ! To hide and skulk away, 
 and starve here ! devil ! who could have foreseen it ? But 
 this is hardest of all ! " and he struck the sod with his clenched 
 fist " to know that my own madness did this ! Oh Leafy, 
 Leafy pure and beautiful-! Did I believe there is a God 
 I would say he sent your death as a judgment a judgment ! " 
 and with a groan, he buried his face in his hands. 
 
 " Hugh Golding, it is a judgment I " 
 
 The miserable man sprang up as though an arrow had pierced 
 his heart, and glared around with a frightened air. 
 
 A woman knelt at the head of the grave.
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 897 
 
 Golding knew his danger. He went close beside her, and 
 crouching down like the humblest beggar said in a hollow 
 voice, 
 
 " Mrs. Earle, for God's sake be my friend. I swear to you 
 here, that I never meant what I uttered in a moment of mad- 
 ness and she overheard. God knows that I am wretched 
 enough this night, to know that her ears can never hear my 
 words of repentance. But I cannot stay to weep over her 
 grave. Mrs. Earle," and he lowered his voice to a whisper, 
 " do you know that I am hunted hunted ? that a price is 
 set upon my head ? I have done a deed, for which, if once 
 within the clutch of the men upon my track, I suffer the full 
 penalty of Justice. You are a woman save me give me 
 shelter, rest, food hide me till the search is over. See ! I 
 will make you a rich woman for life," and a purse fell heavily 
 before her " there are hundreds of golden eagles only 
 save me ! " and he sank abjectly on his knees. 
 
 " Make me rich ? " echoed Mrs. Earle sadly, reproachfully. 
 " Oh, miserable man, what are earthly riches to a mother who 
 has laid her only treasure here ? Hugh Golding, I would not 
 touch a dollar of your gold, were I starving. Could it ever 
 bring back her?" and she swayed her body to and fro with 
 convulsive moans. 
 
 " Hugh Golding, you killed my child ; you have desolated my 
 life ; and now you come with another confession on your lips : 
 and I hold your life in my hands. But I will not betray you. 
 'Vengeance is mine, and I will repay, saith the Lord.' You 
 are safe ! In yonder house you will find food and shelter I 
 would not harm a hair of your head because she loved 
 you ! " and a quick, choking sob stifled the mother's voice. 
 
 Humbly, abjectly, the miserable man crept away. 
 
 But Justice, long wronged of her rightful prey, could be 
 
 34
 
 398 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 defeated no longer. Tlie last leaf, in the life of that evil man 
 was turned. 
 
 That twilight, two travellers hi supping at a little village 
 inn three miles down the river exchanged intelligent glances 
 as the garrulous landlord detailed an event that had stirred the 
 whole surrounding country. 
 
 u Mayhap you've heard of it, strangers," he said " about 
 the young girl killed by lightning the other night ? 'Twas 
 dreadful lonesome where they lived she and her mother in 
 the old stone house on the hill. Everybody, a'most, went up to 
 the funeral : they said she looked jest like a child asleep 
 beautiful as a picter. There was a gentleman used to come up 
 often from York, and take his fine horse from the stables he 
 kept it here and ride up there. I've watched him twenty 
 times ; and he always come back late and slept here, then took 
 the first morning boat for the city. He was her sweetheart, 
 maybe, but it seems strange he didn't come nigh at the 
 funeral." 
 
 " You say this man was from New York ? Who was he ? 
 his name ? " asked one of the strangers. 
 
 " Don't know. He always ptiid his bills like a gentleman. 
 Settled up the last night when he went away the next after 
 the thunder-storm. Was a tall man black eyes and hair 
 every inch a gentleman. By the way, strangers, maybe you're 
 from York ? Have they found the Bank robber yet ? Pretty 
 bold stroke, that 1 " 
 
 " No ! so far, the villain is scot free," answered the man, 
 rising. "But I forgot you said, I believe, sir, that this 
 death by lightning was in these parts. Whereabouts is the 
 stone cottage, sir ? " 
 
 The landlord pointed from an open window. "There, you 
 can see the hill from here ' Eagle's Nest Hill' some call it. 
 The old stone house is just round the corner of the bluff."
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 399 
 
 "Thank you!" said his interrrogator. Then, settling the 
 biU, he took his companion's arm and sauntered slowly from 
 the low porch of the country inn. 
 
 " This must be the region. Smyth put us on the right trail. 
 If he has not fled the country, we shall find him here," and they 
 quickened their pace along the lonely highway. 
 
 When Hugh Golding crossed the threshold of the stone cot- 
 tage, two tall, powerful men stood before him in the gloom. 
 Strong hands were laid upon his arms. With a sudden bound 
 and infuriate cry of despair, he dashed off their grasp and fled 
 toward the forest. But they were with him there. Midway 
 between the house and the wood, their footsteps paused beside 
 his own. 
 
 " Hugh Golding, you are our prisoner ! " and a heavy hand 
 fell on his shoulder. 
 
 Like a panorama the Future swept before his mental vision. 
 Fetters the prison cell the trial and condemnation the 
 jeers of the rabble, and the penalty of the inexorable law. 
 
 The resolve of that desperate man was taken. 
 
 " Never ! By heaven, I will never see Sing Sing ! Thus I 
 defy you ! Now ha ! ha ! now take me on her grave ! " 
 and with a sudden bound forward, a pistol-shot woke a hundred 
 echoes among the hills ; and a shrill scream of mortal agony 
 louder than the cry of the frightened woman who stood spell- 
 bound in terror rang out on the night air, as he staggered 
 heavily forward on Leafy Earle's grave. 
 
 The officers raised him ; but a blood-red stream dyed the 
 turf and dabbled their hands, and a white, ghastly, convulsed 
 face was upturned to the solemn starlight. 
 
 The soul of the Suicide had passed into the presence of ite God. 
 
 Retribution had begun !
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 A consummation most devoutly to be wished. 
 
 SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 SOME one has said, reader, that modern novels always termi- 
 nate with a wedding. And pray, why not ? 
 
 Nor shall we depart from the established rule. In this, our 
 novel, we will have a bridal also and readers, one and all, you 
 are bidden ; for, mayhap, if your eye has followed these pages 
 thus far, with us, you may desire the completion of our gentle 
 Peace's happiness. For how could it be otherwise ? 
 
 Tell us not, O, cold worldling, "It is a sin to love too much ! 
 God will claim your idols ! " We never love " too much." God 
 never sent Death, or Change, or any other messenger, to take 
 away our treasures because we loved them too fondly it is 
 because we love HIM too little ; for " God is love," and He 
 never bestowed upon his creatures hearts to lie rusted, and affec- 
 tions whose " fine gold " should become dimmed. Only let us 
 take heed that the image of the human comes not between us 
 and the Divine. 
 
 At the altar, looking into eyes that make brightest stars in our 
 life-sky, clasping hands that henceforth lead us on our life-path, 
 do we love "too much" then? Beside the dying, pressing 
 quivering lips to marble foreheads, clinging fast to fingers Death 
 is striving to wrest from ours, or dropping tears upon the coffin- 
 lid, do we love " too much " then ? . 
 
 Oh, no ! Whether at bridal or burial in joy or woe in 
 the sunshine or the gloom we never love too strongly ! 
 
 (400)
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 401 
 
 It was no brilliant, worldly gathering, that grouped about the 
 altar of, Springdale church, where the old pastor uttered the 
 marriage ritual and then accompanied them back to the new 
 mansion Lucien Palfrey had erected on the site of the ruined 
 Hall. 
 
 Augustus Kevere gave the bride away and there was a 
 tremor of his form and a paling of his cheek, for he thought of a 
 time when, by night, hi a dimly-lighted church, he had uttered 
 mocking vows to a fair and gentle girl the counterpart of 
 Peace ; and Julie Revere, bending to press a tender mother-kiss 
 on her lips, whispered earnestly, " God bles you, my daugh- 
 ter I " then lifted her dark eyes, filled with chastened happi- 
 ness, to meet the gaze of him who was then, as he had been 
 during that long blank dream of her darkened brain her true, 
 loyal husband. 
 
 Little Cora almost comprehended the ceremony, as, standing 
 on tip-toe and plucking at delighted old Nurse Allen's sleeve, 
 she whispered, 
 
 " Look, Aunty, is'nt my new mamma real beautiful ? " 
 
 Old Judge Rowland rejoicing in the consummation of the 
 bride's happiness hardly refrained from rubbing his hands 
 together over his gold-headed cane ; nor were more fervent con- 
 gratulations offered the blushing Peace at the completion of the 
 ceremony, than Louis Rowland's. For his high-souled nature 
 scorned to envy Lucien Palfrey the bride he, too, would have 
 won ; and afterwards, when a beautiful and refined woman, very 
 like Peace, filled his heart and home with sunshine, he waa fully 
 repaid for the sacrifice. 
 
 But^ to the bridesmaid and groomsman they who came up 
 the aisle of the old church with the betrothed, and stood beside 
 them when a wedded pair was there, in the beautiful marriage 
 service to which they listened, the solemn benediction of the 
 
 34*
 
 402 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 clergyman, the bridegroom's manly pride or the tender light in 
 Peace's blue eyes, to them, no foreshadowing of a day. in their 
 future ? 
 
 Gabrielle's prophecy will be fulfilled ! Though never forget- 
 ting the rare, loving child-wife mouldering under the turf-sods in 
 Greenwood Cemetery, Jasper Revere knows that a stronger, 
 riper love, sways his heart toward the noble girl to whom he 
 pledged his faith. Proud, impetuous, but loving and yielding 
 to the beloved = such antitheses exists in both characters ; 
 combined, they will form a harmonious whole. Nor will their 
 union be a mere priestly formula, joining hands alone but, as 
 are too few in this world of ours in heart, mind, and soul, they 
 will be married ! 
 
 Only two hearing of that bridal vented their rage and 
 discomfiture in angry passion. Mrs. Delano reproached herself 
 that she had ever taken " that artful governess " into the house 
 and stormed and fumed, till her " darlings " were glad to 
 find refuge in the deserted school-room, and*the pet poodle, 
 " Marky," set up violent canine demonstrations. But the 
 haughty Florence though outwardly cold as ice, and hoping 
 "mamma wouldn't make a fool of herself" shut herself in 
 the solitude of her own room and wept such bitter tears as she 
 had never shed before such tears as a haughty, humiliated 
 woman weeps, when the only heart for whose love she strove is 
 indifferent alike to proffered love, or scorn. 
 
 But at Springdale church, the wedding was over, and the 
 bridal party had entered their carriages to return to the Hall, 
 when occurred a little episode which, as it relates somewhat to 
 the fortunes of the new-made bride, we will relate by way of 
 finale. 
 
 u Peace, Peace ! pray look at that outre looking being ! "
 
 PEACE: OR THE STOLEN WILL. 403 
 
 exclaimed Orah Howland. " See ! as I live, he is actually 
 bowing ! What can he mean ? " 
 
 Peace leaned from the carriage. Keeping pace with the 
 vehicle, a figure, strange and outre, indeed but, after a moment 
 of bewildered recognition, strangely familiar met her aston- 
 ished gaze. 
 
 In the well-remembered suit of gray linsey-woolsey his 
 crape-banded hat and thick shoes white with dust, every fea- 
 ture of his little, quizzical, meagre face beaming with the wild- 
 est delight his outstretched, tanned, bony hands holding a pa- 
 per package up to her view she recognize?! the bound boy, 
 Chip Weed. A smile of recognition flitted over her features. 
 
 The inmates of the carriage looked on in surprise. 
 
 " Ah, Peace you know him, then ? " queried Palfrey with 
 a mischievous smile. " Some old lover, perhaps ! some "brave 
 Lochinvar come out of the west," to steal the bride from the 
 wedding ! I must inquire into this ! " 
 
 Peace rallied. 
 
 " It is Uncle Reuben's bound boy ! How could he have found 
 me here ? " and with impatient wonder she beckoned him to 
 the carriage. 
 
 "Aha! no trespasser, then!" said the young husband gnyly. 
 "In lieu of a brave young knight, come to rob me of my bride, 
 he proves a gallant retainer come to render his mistress homage. 
 But you would speak to him. John, let down the stops ! Come 
 in here, sir ! " 
 
 The coachman smiled, and handed the awkward, uncouth, 
 wonder-stricken Chip into the velvet-lined carriage. 
 
 The bound boy stood mute and amazed at the elegant eqSiip- 
 age and the strange, smiling faces ; but joy at the sight of Peace 
 banished every fear. Taking off his straw hat, he twirled it 
 unconsciously, gazing upon her with silent delight.
 
 404 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. , 
 
 " Chip, how came you here ? Was it in search of me ? " asked 
 Peace. 
 His tongue was unloosened. 
 
 " Yes, Miss Peace come all this way to find you mighty 
 long way, too ! Run away in the night guess old Hannah's 
 mad enough about it ! travelled all the time. Got rides on 
 stages, carts, anything! Slept most anywhere, nights. Folks 
 ask me where I was bound give me my vittles. Clever folks 
 in the world ! Found out New York arter a while mighty 
 big town ! couldn't find anywhere ! monstrous high stone 
 walls called 'em houses, folks did ! Asked lots of people 
 where Miss Peace lived everybody fools, laughed at me, don't 
 know a darned thing! Come away wouldn't stay in the tar- 
 nal rackety place couldn't hear my own ears ! Come up here 
 yesterday got a ride on a monstrous steamboat sot down to 
 rest under a big tree. Fust thing I knew, saw you, Miss Peace, 
 comin' out o' the meetin'-house, lookin' so mighty fine ! Found 
 ye at last no thanks to nobody, nuther ! He, he, he ! " 
 
 " But what sent you ? What made you undertake such a 
 wild thing, Chip ? " asked Peace. 
 
 In his delight at the meeting, Chip had quite forgotten his 
 errand ; and, while fumbling at his hat-brim, had slid the little 
 package back into his pocket. Drawing .it thence, he said with 
 a sly look of cunning, - 
 
 " He ! he ! he ! Think I'm a fool, Miss Peace, mebbe ? 
 Guess old Hannah Ward's the biggest fool this time ! Look 
 here ! " and he held up the package with a mysterious shrug, 
 "jest you look here, and say if Chip Weed Esq. don't know a 
 thing or two ! " and dexterously untying a perfect " cat's cradle " 
 of twine, he unfolded an old newspaper and drew forth a written 
 sheet, laying it upon the folds of Peace's white satin bridal robe. 
 
 " What is it ? " asked the company in a breath.
 
 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 405 
 
 "A legal paper?" queried Palfrey, unfolding it. "<I give 
 and bequeath to nay adopted daughter, Peace Wedgcwood ' 
 why, it is a Will!" 
 
 " Yes indeed ! Uncle Reuben's will ! " echoed the astonished 
 girl, her eyes bent on the familiar signature. 
 
 " He ! he ! he ! " and Chip fairly shook with laughter 
 "who's the fool now, Miss Peace? Guess old Hannah's mad 
 as a hornet! You see" and he lowered his voice to a 
 whisper " she stole it ! she hid it the night Uncle Kcu- 
 ben died. But it's yourn now, Miss Peace you'll go back 
 to the old place agin ? " 
 
 Tears dropped silently from the blue eyes bent gratefully on 
 the faithful bound boy. Lucien Palfrey took her hand, and 
 whispered softly, " There is a Providence in this, my dear wile ! " 
 
 Chip had been a watchful observer of Dr. Palfrey. He 
 plucked at Peace's mantle. 
 
 " Who is he ? " he whispered mysteriously. 
 
 The whisper was overheard. 
 
 "My good fellow, I am your young mistress's husband ! " 
 
 Chip looked appealingly toward her. " You belong to him, 
 then ? You won't go back to the Ridge ? 'Twas for no use I 
 cheated Hannah, and got the Will, then, Miss Peace ? " he said 
 sadly. 
 
 The faithful fellow's devotion went to her heart. 
 
 "My good Chip, I shall. go there some day but I cannot 
 stay always. This is my home now ; and you shall live here 
 with me. I want to talk with you again by and by," and the 
 carriage drew up before the Hall. 
 
 Chip hung his head jumped out and crept away under a 
 hawthorn hedge, while the party swept up the gravelled walk, 
 Long he sat there, until a domestic summoned him to the 
 mansion ; and when he entered, the brim of his straw hat was
 
 406 PEACE: OB THE STOLEN WILL. 
 
 pulled down over eyes red with weeping. Peace was "an 
 angel " still in the eyes of the simple, tender-hearted, faithful 
 bound boy but she was a lost angel, to him. 
 
 When the bleak, cold New England December came round, 
 Peace again crossed the threshold of the old farm-house at the 
 Ridge. Not, as when she had gone forth a lonely, desolate 
 orphan, to toil for her daily bread but the cherished daughter 
 jof a repentant father, and beloved, honored wife of the man 
 who accompanied her thither. 
 
 On the carriage at the door sat Chip, arrayed in all the glory 
 of a new suit looking smiling and happy. 
 
 Almost palsied with fear, Hannah Ward, with pale, trembling 
 hands, placed chairs for her visitors. 
 
 " No, Hannah," said Peace kindly, " I cannot tarry. But do 
 not fear ! I have not come hither to upbraid you. While 
 you live, you are welcome to a home at the Ridge. I shall 
 never expose you. -I came here to-day to see the old place 
 again." 
 
 Then Peace made a brief pilgrimage to the old familiar 
 haunts whgre her heart had been so often. Entering every 
 room in the old ho,use, not forgetting the attic chamber where 
 she had played in her childhood, but lingering longest in the 
 bed-room where Aunt Patience died she came back to the 
 long kitchen with a calm smile on her lips. 
 
 " Good bye, Hannah Ward. I shall come once every year to 
 visit the old place. Do not fear ! I- am your friend ! " and 
 leaving the spinster amazed, and pale with humiliation, she 
 recrossed the threshold. 
 
 Then, beside her husband, she opened a little gate, crossed 
 the stubble-fields, and followed the foot-path hi the valley 
 meadow walked slowly through the sere, naked woodlands
 
 PEACE : OB THE STOLEN WILL. 407 
 
 and sought a shrine where Augustus Revere and his wife had 
 gone before them, where, her rest guarded by the shadowy 
 firs whose green no winter winds or snows could wither, slept 
 one, over whose mouldering form repentant tears were shed 
 Mary Revere, in her lonely rest on Wood Hill. 
 
 FINIS.
 
 A 000039287