DOCTOR YANDYKE 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN" ESTEIST COOKE, 
 
 ATJTHOE OF "THE VIBGINIA COMEDIANS," "STJEBY OP EAGLE S NEST," ETC. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 
 
 549 & 551 BEOADWAY. 
 
 1872. 
 
ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, 
 
 BY D. APPLETON & CO., 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 

 . 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 THE DOCTOR. 
 
 A MAN was sitting in a house on Glou 
 cester Street, in Williamsburg, Virginia, 
 about a hundred years ago, busy at a 
 very singular employment. 
 
 In this lower world the inner charac 
 ter of men and things connects itself so 
 mysteriously with their outward appear 
 ance, that a pen-and-ink sketch is de 
 sirable of the room in which the person 
 age we have introduced was sitting, and 
 of the personage himself. 
 
 It was the front apartment of a small 
 house, standing somewhat back from the 
 street, in the midst of a small garden, 
 given up chiefly to flowers ; and, as the 
 season was autumn, the borders burned 
 with prince s - feathers, asters, yellow 
 primroses, and late geraniums. You ap 
 proached by a gravel-walk, mounted two 
 stone steps, entered by a heavy door, or 
 namented with an enormous brass lock, 
 and, passing through an inner door on 
 the right, found yourself in the apart 
 ment mentioned. It was half sitting- 
 room, half laboratory. A thick carpet, 
 with lozenge-shaped figures of black and 
 red alternately, covered the floor, and 
 some old, high - backed chairs rested 
 against the dingy walls. In one corner 
 was a walnut-wood bookcase, containing 
 an array of volumes, chiefly upon medi 
 
 cal subjects, and these had overflowed 
 upon the chairs and the carpet. On the 
 tall mantel-piece were jars, phials, re 
 torts, and bones. It was plain that phys 
 iology was a favorite study of the owner 
 of the mansion ; and specimens of the 
 master-worm, man, in every stage of his 
 physical development, from the embryo 
 to the skeleton, dangling its legs and 
 arms, and grinning frightfully, met the 
 eye on every hand. 
 
 In the centre of the room stood a 
 long table, covered with machines and 
 retorts. Beside it, poring, with knit 
 brows, over a large leather-bound vol 
 ume, and looking, from moment to mo 
 ment, at a white rabbit under a glass 
 cover, sat the master of the establish 
 ment. 
 
 He was an altogether singular person 
 age a sort of cut-off giant, scarcely five 
 feet in height, with an enormous chest, 
 broad and powerful shoulders, and long 
 arms, ending in immense hands. Here, 
 however, the Herculean character of the 
 strange figure terminated. An impotent 
 conclusion ensued. The legs were actual 
 pipe-stems, so slender were they; and 
 their tenuity was exaggerated by the enor 
 mous size of the feet, reposing in mighty 
 buckled shoes. The costume of this 
 personage consisted of heavy silk stock 
 ings, knee-breeches of drab cloth, a long 
 waistcoat reaching nearly to the knees, 
 and buttoned up to the throat; and a 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 species of overcoat with a cape attached, 
 capacious flapped pockets, and skirts so 
 long that they reached down to the 
 wearer s heels. Neck, this outre, figure 
 had none, apparently. The huge head, 
 half covered by long, gray elf-locks, rose 
 abruptly from the shoulders, and the face 
 was on a par with the torso. The eyes 
 were dark, piercing, and seemed to burn 
 with cynical fire under the bushy, gray 
 eyebrows. The nose was long and prom 
 inent; the mouth wide, with thin, com 
 pressed lips, and a sardonic, almost sneer 
 ing expression. From time to time the 
 personage uttered a sort of grunt, agree 
 ably alternating with a growl resembling 
 that of a wolf disturbed while tearing 
 his food. 
 
 He closed the book, and raised the 
 glass cover, beneath which was stretched 
 the body of the rabbit a white one of 
 the English species. 
 
 " Well," he said, in a vibrating and 
 metallic voice, "he is dead, after all, I 
 think. The formula was wrong. To be 
 certain, however." 
 
 He took the white rabbit, and, open 
 ing the window, placed it upon the sill 
 in the fresh air. For ten minutes he re 
 mained looking attentively at it. No 
 movement indicated life. 
 
 " Humph ! " he said ; " yes, this time 
 he s dead. Decidedly the formula was 
 wrong. And yet it is my dream, per 
 chance, but no this is not a chimera. 
 And, if not " 
 
 He looked toward the skeleton, and, 
 shaking his fist at it, exclaimed, in grim 
 and triumphant tones : 
 
 "I cannot conquer you, King Death! 
 My science is powerless in face of your 
 strength you are master ! But I do not 
 yield ; I can fight you, drive you back ; 
 and, if not checkmate you, can sometimes 
 tear your prey from your grasp ! If I find 
 what I seek now, I triumph ! and I will 
 find it ! Yes, the formula was wrong 
 there is a better yonder! " 
 
 And, crossing the room with hasty 
 
 strides, he took down a heavy volume 
 from the bookcase. As he did so, there 
 fell from the shelf, where it had been 
 concealed behind the volume, a small 
 white glove, with a bow of blue ribbon 
 affixed to the wrist only the delicate 
 fabric, once snow-white, was discolored 
 by age, and the ribbon-knot was faded. 
 
 The eccentric personage picked up 
 the glove and looked at it. An expres 
 sion of wonder had replaced the stern 
 glance. 
 
 " This here ! " he muttered" not 
 crumbled and gone to dust like all 
 else?" 
 
 He remained perfectly motionless for 
 a long time, looking at the glove, upon 
 which a ray of the autumn sunshine fell, 
 through the window. An expression of 
 sadness, almost of tenderness, had come 
 to the deep-set eyes now, and the thin 
 lips. 
 
 "I thought that was all done for 
 that business I " he muttered ; "and yet 
 here it is ! a ghost out of the past. 
 What a fool I am ! The roses are as 
 faded as the blue of this ribbon ; and 
 the woman she has forgotten ! " 
 
 The pathetic expression had already 
 disappeared, and the sardonic smile came 
 back. 
 
 " Here I am, dreaming over a wom 
 an s glove ! " he muttered ; " the old 
 squat dwarf, with his patients to look 
 after! I ll cease this fooling! go back 
 to your hiding-place, ghost ! " he said, 
 replacing the glove behind the books; 
 " I ll never summon you again or look at 
 her, unless she calls me. * Send to me 
 if you are in trouble, I said to her, and 
 I ll come, day or night. I ll do that 
 but she shall send for me first." 
 
 Muttering to himself, he went back 
 with his book to the table ; at the mo 
 ment, a clock in the adjoining room 
 struck the hour of noon. 
 
 " Well, here s the morning wasted, 
 and I must go to the governor," he said, 
 closing his book." Snuffers! " 
 
A FALL FROM HORSEBACK. 
 
 This cabalistic word died away, anc 
 
 was then repeated in a louder tone : 
 
 " Snuffers ! " 
 
 " Very well, Dr. Vandyke ! " a voice 
 
 said from the next room ; " there s no 
 
 use bawling at me I m coming." 
 
 The door opened, and an old woman 
 of short stature, rotund person, and ruddy 
 face, appeared, her white head-kercliief 
 extending backward in the shape of a 
 sugar-loaf. 
 
 "Most excellent Mrs. Snuffers," said 
 Dr. Vandyke, with his satirical smile, 
 "will you be so obliging as to inform 
 any person who calls to see me that I 
 have gone to the governor s ? " 
 
 " And when will you be back? " 
 "I am unable to say, madam." 
 Thereat the elderly lady looked pecul 
 iarly irate. 
 
 " And how am I to know when you 
 will want your dinner, Dr.. Vandyke? 
 How am I to take care of you, and act as 
 a Christian woman by you, when here, 
 just as I am getting ready to put the 
 dinner on the table, you go flying off! " 
 Dr. Vandyke glared at his enemy. 
 "Dinner? "he said. 
 " Dinner ! " retorted the foe, in a 
 loud voice "dinner! and I d like to 
 know ho\v often I have said " 
 
 "That eating was the great object of 
 existence? A thousand times, most re 
 spectable Snuffers ! True, life is after all 
 but a struggle against starvation. All 
 else but what the human animal eats is 
 vanity ! And the fact here stated is sus 
 ceptible of demonstration. From the 
 singular organization of the creature de 
 nominated man " 
 
 Unfortunately for the doctor s learned 
 discourse, an instant interruption there 
 of occurred. Breathless, pop-eyed, with 
 haste written all over his face, rushed in 
 a small black urchin, who nearly precip 
 itated himself into the doctor s arms. 
 That gentleman received him with im 
 movable elbow, sharp and bony, which 
 sent him flying back. 
 
 " What s the meaning of this, you ras 
 cal?" quoth Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 The boy cowered and fell back. But 
 in a moment he regained breath and 
 courage to deliver his message. A gen 
 tleman, while riding along Gloucester 
 Street, had been thrown from his horse, 
 badly injured, and borne into the Raleigh 
 Tavern, where he awaited Dr. Vandyke s 
 professional services. 
 
 "Say I am coming," grunted Dr. 
 Vandyke. 
 
 "And your dinner!" shrilled Mrs. 
 Snuffers. 
 
 The doctor wheeled and scowled at 
 her. 
 
 "Snuffers! you are a pair of extin 
 guishers instead of the implement bear 
 ing your name. That is to say, you are 
 a woman ! " 
 
 Having discharged this thunder-bolt 
 at the head of his enemy, Dr. Vandyke 
 put on his hat, grasped a large stick in 
 his vigorous right hand, and, with his 
 long overcoat flapping against his 
 shrunken legs, went out of the house, 
 and toward the Raleigh Tavern. 
 
 II. 
 
 A FALL FKOM HOESEBACK. 
 
 
 
 AT the moment when Dr. Vandyke 
 had unburdened his mind by shaking his 
 Bst at the skeleton, a man had passed 
 along Gloucester Street, at full gallop, 
 on a black horse of great strength and 
 speed. 
 
 The man was apparently about thir 
 ty-five, erect, sinewy, though rather thin, 
 and clad in a dark riding-suit and ele 
 gant riding-boots. His face was hand 
 some and distinguished, but remarkable 
 or its pallor, which his black hair ren 
 dered more striking. His seat in the 
 addle was that of an excellent horse- 
 nan, but he had allowed the bridle to 
 all on the neck of his horse ; and the 
 
8 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 dreamy expression of his eyes indicated 
 that he was sunk in a profound reverie. 
 
 The result of this was unfortunate. 
 In passing the door of the Virginia Ga 
 zette office, a young man, whose back 
 was turned to him, suddenly unfolded a 
 number of the paper, just handed to him 
 by a boy; and the black horse shied vio 
 lently, unseating and throwing his rider, 
 whose head struck heavily against the 
 stones of the street. 
 
 The young man, who had inadver 
 tently caused the accident, hastened to 
 the assistance of the fallen horseman and 
 raised him in his arms. He was quite in 
 sensible, and the blood flowed from a 
 deep gash in his temple. 
 
 A crowd immediately collected. 
 "While some endeavored unsuccessfully 
 to stop the black horse, which galloped 
 off, the rest gathered around the fallen 
 man, shutting off the fresh air. All at 
 once, however, the throng divided, and 
 was thrust back. A tall, bony serving- 
 man, with a face like bronze, hastened 
 to throw his arms around the victim of 
 the accident. The new-comer paid no 
 attention to the youth. Raising the un 
 conscious form in his arms, he bore it 
 into the Raleigh Tavern, which was only 
 a few paces distant, and, ascending the 
 narrow staircase, deposited it upon a 
 couch in one of the chambers. 
 
 The crowd had remained on the 
 porch of the tavern, but the young man 
 who had hastened to the rescue, fol 
 lowed, lie had already dispatched a 
 boy for Dr. Vandyke, with orders that 
 he should lose no time. 
 
 The tall serving -man, meanwhile, 
 busied himself in bathing the wounded 
 forehead in cold water. The youth 
 looked on during this ceremony with an 
 expression of much concern. 
 
 " What is the name of your master? " 
 he said, at length, to the old servant. 
 
 That personage replied in a brief, 
 cold voice, without raising his head 
 
 " My Lord Ruthven." 
 
 " Of his Excellency s suite ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 As the abrupt monosyllable was ut 
 tered, Lord Ruthven opened his eyes. 
 As they fell upon the young man, he 
 started violently. 
 
 " You here! " he gasped, with an ap 
 palled look. " Good Heavens ! you ? " 
 
 He sank back, closing his eyes, and 
 shuddering. 
 
 The old serving-man rose erect, and 
 his whole body seemed to stiffen his 
 eyes expressed a vague astonishment, 
 mingled with sternness. He had opened 
 his lips to speak, when another personage 
 made his appearance Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 " Well," said Dr. Vandyke, approach 
 ing the couch, and striking the floor with 
 his stick at each step, u where is the 
 hurt?" 
 
 He stopped suddenly. 
 
 " Humph ! Lord Ruthven ! " he said. 
 u An excellent horseman. How was he 
 thrown ? " 
 
 " I was the unfortunate cause of the 
 accident, doctor," said the young man. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke wheeled round and 
 gazed at the speaker. 
 
 " You are Edmund Innis? " he said. 
 
 " Then you know me ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know you." 
 
 "So much the better, doctor then 
 yon will understand how much I regret 
 this unfortunate occurrence." 
 
 In a few words he described the ori 
 gin of the accident. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke, who was now engaged 
 in laving and bandaging the wound, re 
 plied only in grunts. In a few mo 
 ments, the patient uttered a deep sigh, 
 and again opened his eyes. Again he 
 gave a violent start, and exclaimed : 
 
 "Youf then I did not dream! oh, 
 no, no ! " 
 
 The words were almost a cry. The 
 wounded man shook as he uttered them. 
 Both the youth and Dr. Vandyke listened 
 with the utmost astonishment. Then 
 the physician looked keenly at the youth. 
 
A FALL FROM HORSEBACK. 
 
 "Your presence appears to agitate 
 Lord Ruthven," he said. 
 
 " Agitate Mm ? ray presence ? I can 
 not conceive the reason! " exclaimed the 
 youth in utter bewilderment. 
 
 " He evidently recognizes you ! " 
 growled Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 " Recognizes me ? I have never be 
 fore seen him even ! " 
 
 "That is strange," was the reply, 
 and Dr. Vandyke directed another keen 
 glance at the speaker. 
 
 " It is true." 
 
 "Doubtless but listen, he is going 
 to speak ! " 
 
 " That face ! " murmured Lord Ruth 
 ven, without opening his eyes, "that 
 form ! again ! and here, when I 
 thought I had fled from him forever ? " 
 
 " Listen ! " said Dr. Vandyke, with a 
 species of grunt. 
 
 " The ocean is no barrier, then ! " 
 muttered Lord Ruthven. " Fate plays 
 with me ! " 
 
 The young man gazed with great as 
 tonishment on the wounded nobleman, 
 and then at the physician. 
 
 " This is the strangest of mysteries 
 to me, doctor," he said. "What Lord 
 Ruthven can mean by thus speaking of 
 me as though we had met elsewhere 
 had relations with each other I know 
 not. I am in utter darkness as to the 
 meaning of the whole affair. But one 
 thing is plain that my presence agitates 
 him, as you say. I will therefore go, 
 and return later, to ascertain his condi 
 tion. I had proposed leaving "Williams- 
 burg this very day ; but I shall now de 
 fer my departure. Before going I must 
 know that he is out of danger, as I was 
 the unhappy occasion of his very painful 
 accident." 
 
 " Right," said Dr. Vandyke ; " go, and 
 come back to-morrow. The hurt is se 
 rious not mortal at all." 
 
 The youth bowed, looked with sym 
 pathy upon the pale face of the sick 
 man, and left the room. 
 
 As the door closed, Lord Ruthven 
 opened his eyes, and looked around him, 
 evidently seeking for some one. A deep 
 sigh followed. 
 
 Where is he?" he said, in a low, 
 trembling voice. 
 
 "The young gentleman?" said Dr. 
 Vandyke. 
 
 " Yes yes ! " 
 
 " He is gone." 
 
 "His name?" 
 
 " Mr. Edmund Innis." 
 
 " I never heard the name before ! " 
 
 And, as he spoke, Lord Ruthven fell 
 back, uttering a sigh, and closing his eyes. 
 
 "Humph!" grunted Dr. Vandyke; 
 "the mystery is growing more mysteri 
 ous than ever. Well ! " 
 
 The words attracted the attention 
 apparently of the sick man, who looked 
 at the speaker. 
 
 " You are a physician, I think, sir? " 
 he said. 
 
 " Yes sent for, to come to see you." 
 
 " Your name, doctor ? " 
 
 " Vandyke." 
 
 The patient inclined his head faintly. 
 
 " You are known to me, doctor, by 
 repute at least. I am fortunate. Tell 
 me how I was hurt. My horse threw 
 me, I think ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 A few words described the accident. 
 
 " That was careless in me very care 
 less," he said; "and this young gentle 
 man will he return ? " 
 
 "To-morrow, he informs me." 
 
 Lord Ruthven made no reply for some 
 moments. His face had grown whiter 
 than ever. 
 
 " If I could only leave this place to 
 night! " he murmured. 
 
 He looked at the physician, and said : 
 
 " My hurt is a mere trifle, I presume, 
 doctor?" 
 
 " Every thing in life is a trifle, and 
 every thing important," was the .reply. 
 " You may be ill for a month, or well in 
 a week." 
 
10 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 " Thanks, doctor, and now I think a 
 little sleep \vill prove beneficial to me. 
 
 May I beg that you will call and see me 
 again to-morrow ? Wait upon the doc 
 tor, Fergus and give orders that I shall 
 not be disturbed. Then return." 
 
 It was plain that Lord Ruthven 
 wished to be alone, and Dr. Vandyke 
 took his departure, escorted ceremoni 
 ously by the body-servant Fergus. 
 
 In five minutes Fergus reentered the 
 chamber, closing and locking the door 
 behind him. His master s face was even 
 paler, if that were possible, than before. 
 His eyes burned in their deep sockets. 
 
 "Fergus," he said in a low, awe 
 struck whisper, " I have seen him ! " 
 
 III. 
 
 THE BODY-SERVANT. 
 
 greeted this abrupt exclama 
 tion with an air of perfect coolness. 
 
 " The young man, my lord ? " he 
 said. 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "When?" was the laconic question 
 of the old body-servant. 
 
 " When I saw the other ! " 
 
 " The young woman, my lord ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " 
 
 This brief dialogue was followed by 
 a long silence, interrupted once or twice 
 by a stifled groan from Lord Ruthven. 
 Fergus knit his brows, but preserved his 
 
 COOl!) 
 
 " Well, my lord," he said, at length, 
 
 " I say again what I have said time after 
 
 time in Scotland, England, France, and 
 
 r here, that the future must take care 
 
 of itself." 
 
 Lord Ruthven frowned. 
 
 "M- .-iNwhile," continued the body- 
 servant, coolly, "I would advise your 
 lordship to keep a stout heart, and hope 
 for the b. - 
 
 Wh -reat his master broke out: 
 
 M A stout heart ! then I am a baby ! " 
 
 Fergus saw the storm coming, but 
 did not shrink in the least. 
 
 " You mean that I am a mere nervous 
 invalid ! " continued Ruthven, angrily 
 " a cowering slave, shrinking from*shad- 
 ows ! " 
 
 Fergus retained his calmness, and re 
 plied : 
 
 " I beg to call your lordship s atten 
 tion to the fact that, if you grow excited, 
 your wound will bleed afresh." 
 
 " I care naught for it let it bleed ! " 
 
 "The blood is even now oozing 
 through the bandage, my lord." 
 
 Lord Ruthven replied by violently 
 tearing the linen from his head. Imme 
 diately a stream of blood ran down his 
 white cheeks, rendering his appearance 
 ghastly. 
 
 The spectacle disarmed in an instant 
 the stiff old Scotchman of his coolness. 
 The upright bar of iron suddenly melted. 
 Fergus ran to his master, and placed his 
 arm around him. 
 
 " My lord I my lord ! you will kill your 
 self! you will bleed to death ! " he cried. 
 
 "What care I, Fergus?" 
 
 "My lord! my lord!" 
 
 " What care I whether my wretched 
 life ends here, and now or not ? " 
 
 The old man uttered a groan, and 
 busied himself in washing away the 
 blood. He then replaced the bandage 
 with the tenderness of a mother, and 
 Lord Ruthven, who had sunk back and 
 closed his eyes, made no resistance. 
 
 "Your lordship cuts your poor old 
 Fergus to the very heart," said the ser 
 vant. 
 
 " I would not do so, Fergus," was the 
 nobleman s low reply, " but you know . 
 well the terrible effect upon me of the least 
 expression of doubt upon that subject. 
 I am to hope for the lest ! Then I am 
 not competent to direct the event. You 
 mean that, though you do not say it ! " 
 " Your lordship grows excited." 
 " You intimate that I may fail in the 
 hour of trial ! " 
 
KNOWN AND UNKNOWN. 
 
 11 
 
 " My lord ! " 
 
 "That I may be induced to yield to 
 this accursed temptation ! " 
 
 " My lord, I think nothing, and say 
 nothing." 
 
 " Do you dream that I could ? " said 
 Lord Kntliven, in a despairing tone, and 
 with gloomy sarcasm he added : 
 
 " You, no doubt, imagine that the part 
 of the drama in which you appear is to be 
 enacted also in Virginia." 
 
 Fergus replied with great coolness: 
 "I think, my lord, that this world we 
 live in is a very strange world, and that 
 we can t tell what will happen a day in 
 advance." 
 
 "True, true! " murmured Lord Ruth- 
 ven, in a hopeless voice. 
 
 "And as to myself, my lord do you 
 think I am afraid ? Has your lordship the 
 right to think that, when I have remained 
 with you looking death in the face ? " 
 
 The nobleman suddenly raised his 
 head, and held out his hand to the old 
 man. 
 
 " Pardon me, Fergus ! " he said, " par 
 don my injustice and ingratitude! You 
 are truly brave and faithful! " 
 
 Fergus bent down and kissed the hand 
 extended toward him, with an expression 
 of the deepest respect and affection. His 
 face flushed, and a moisture came to the 
 old eyes. 
 
 "There is naught to pardon, my lord. 
 Am I not your servitor? Do with me as 
 you will." 
 
 From under the bushy eyebrows 
 darted a glance of absolute tenderness 
 that of the feudal vassal for his beloved 
 lord. 
 
 " No I " Lord Ruthven said ; "we are 
 not master and servitor, Fergus. You 
 are my foster-brother more than that, 
 you are my friend. We must not quarrel. 
 We are in a strange land together. We 
 must be fast and true fast and true! " 
 
 Fergus had retired a step, and now 
 bowed respectfully. 
 
 "I never doubted your devotion, 
 
 Fergus ; that you remain with me is suf 
 ficient proof of that ; nor did I ever dream 
 that my brave Fergus was afraid." 
 
 The old Scotchman, who had grown 
 as cold as ever, shook his head. 
 
 " As to the devotion, my lord, you do 
 me no more than justice. I am devoted 
 to you; but, as to the fear, there you are 
 wrong, I am afraid." 
 
 " You have cause to be," groaned Lord 
 Ruthven. 
 
 " But I dare the danger, and don t let 
 it frighten me, my lord. I have my duty 
 to do to the last of the great line of 
 Ruthven ; and that duty I will perform, 
 though the devil himself rise in my path ! " 
 
 "My faithful Fergus! " 
 
 "Thanks, my lord, for the word. I 
 hope I m faithful. And, now as your lord 
 ship calls me foster-brother tell me I 
 wish to know will your lordship remain 
 here in Virginia? " 
 
 " I know not no ! no ! How can I ? " 
 
 Fergus looked for some moments, in 
 tently, at his master. In this fixed glance 
 there was no little astonishment. Then, 
 slowly shaking his head, he said : 
 
 " It needs must be that something 
 terrible is going to happen when the last 
 of the Ruthvens the bravest, strongest 
 of his race talks thus! You shiver and 
 turn white ! My lord, let us go." 
 
 "Yes, yes! and yet his excellency 
 will think it strange! But well, well! 
 leave me now. .1 will sleep, Fergus, and 
 to-morrow " 
 
 The voice died away, and the speaker, 
 with his eyes fixed upon the floor, fell 
 into a profound and gloomy reverie. 
 
 Fergus turned away. As he did so, 
 he uttered some words in Gaelic. These 
 words signified "It is fated! " 
 
 IV. 
 
 KXOWX AND I7XKXOWN. 
 
 Ox the next evening Lord Ruthven, 
 ;lad in a rich role de chambre, wae 
 
12 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 stretched npon the couch in his apart 
 ment at the Raleigh Tavern, when Fergus 
 entered, and said in his habitual tone of 
 formal respect : 
 
 " Mr. Edmund Innis has called to in 
 quire after your lordship s health." 
 
 " The young man ? " said Lord Ruth- 
 ven, his pale face suddenly filling with 
 blood. 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 " I will see him." 
 
 Fergus did not move. 
 
 " You heard, Fergus I will see this 
 young gentleman," added his master. 
 
 " Your lordship is very pale." 
 
 " But I am better." 
 
 " And still very weak." 
 
 " The interview will do me no harm." 
 
 " Your lordship insists? " 
 
 " Admit him." 
 
 Fergus bowed and went out his steps 
 were heard descending the stairs. 
 
 As he disappeared, Lord Ruthven 
 rose and went to a mirror. 
 
 "I am indeed frightfully pale," he 
 murmured, surveying his ghastly cheeks, 
 " and my appearance will probably shock 
 my visitor. Still I must see him. It may 
 be that yesterday, while weak from loss 
 of blood, stunned, with my brain reeling, 
 I fancied simply fancied but no! there 
 can be no doubt ! the face, the hair, the 
 lips, the eyes all are the same ! " 
 
 The brows of the speaker contracted, 
 and he drew a long, painful breath. 
 
 "No! let me not attempt to cheat 
 myself with any doubt!" he muttered ; 
 " tis the very man! and I tempt the 
 evil fate that is dogging me by even speak 
 ing to him by the very fact of receiving 
 him ! No, I will not see him ! I will 
 Fergus ! " And he hastened toward the 
 door. 
 
 A < he did so, steps were heard ascend 
 ing the staircase without. The visitor was 
 plainly coming up, conducted by Fergus. 
 
 " Too late ! " groaned Lord Ruthven, 
 " the die is cast. I must receive him. I 
 shudder, and yet advance toward him 
 
 would avoid him, and yet cannot resist 
 the temptation to gaze at him to listen 
 to him" 
 
 The hand of Fergus was heard upon 
 the knob, and his voice uttered the 
 words : 
 
 " This, as you know, sir, is his lord 
 ship s apartment." 
 
 And the door opened, Fergus stand 
 ing ceremoniously aside, and ushering in 
 the visitor. 
 
 Lord Ruthven had resumed his place 
 upon the couch, from which he now rose 
 as his visitor entered. The two gentle 
 men exchanged courtly bows, and Lord 
 Ruthven gazed intently at the other, tak 
 ing in every detail of his face and figure. 
 
 Edmund Innis was a young man of 
 twenty-two or three, with brown hair, 
 powdered, after the fashion of the period, 
 and tied with a ribbon, eyes full of frank 
 ness, a handsome mouth, indicating sin 
 cerity, and a carriage of the person at 
 once proud and courteous. His embroid 
 ered coat, long silken waistcoat, and ruf 
 fles, indicated the class to which he be 
 longed for, at that time costume marked 
 the social position of its wearer; but 
 these fine garments were quite shabby, 
 and the general appearance of the youth 
 seemed to prove that his exchequer was 
 in a very dilapidated state indeed. His 
 frill was irreproachably white, and upon 
 his finger sparkled a diamond ring ; but 
 the seams of his coat were threadbare, 
 there was a hole in one of his elbows, 
 and the cocked-hat held in his hand had 
 lost every particle of the lace which once 
 adorned it. 
 
 In spite, however, of these unmistak 
 able marks of the "poor gentleman," 
 Lord Ruthven had no difficulty in per 
 ceiving at a glance that his visitor was, 
 what was called at that time, a person 
 of distinction. The head above the worn 
 coat was carried with proud courtesy, 
 and the discolored hat descended in a 
 bow which was as graceful as that made 
 by the nobleman. 
 
KNOWN AND UNKNOWN. 
 
 13 
 
 "I beg that you will be seated, sir," 
 said Lord Ruthven, pointing to an arm 
 chair. 
 
 "Thanks, my lord," was the youth s 
 reply, as he took his seat, " I am truly 
 glad to find your lordship so greatly im 
 proved since I last saw you." 
 
 " A mere trifle, Mr. Innis." 
 
 " I feared your case was much worse." 
 
 "I am nearly recovered already." 
 
 Innis bowed. 
 
 " That* relieves my mind of a load of 
 self-reproach. I need scarce inform you 
 that I deeply regret my unfortunate 
 agency in this accident, and feel that 
 your lordship has done me the simple 
 justice to believe that I was entirely un 
 aware of the danger to which I enforced 
 you. Your sudden fall was a very great 
 shock to me." 
 
 " I did not doubt that for a moment, 
 sir." 
 
 " So you are not seriously injured ? " 
 
 "In twenty-four hours I shall be as 
 well as ever." 
 
 , "God be thanked!" said the young 
 man, cordially; "and now, having re 
 lieved my mind of all anxiety as to your 
 lordship s condition, I shall return to my 
 home without anxiety." 
 
 During this exchange of common 
 places and expressions of politeness. 
 Lord Ruthven had continued to gaze in 
 tently at Innis, and, as trait after trait in 
 the voice and countenance of the youth 
 came out more plainly, this fixed gaze 
 became one of much agitation. It was 
 plain that Lord Ruthven was strongly 
 moved. His dark eyes were riveted to 
 the visitor s face, a slight color tinged 
 his pale cheeks, his voice trembled 
 perceptibly, and his breast labored in 
 breathing. 
 
 It was impossible that this agitation, 
 if it were prolonged, should not attract 
 the attention of the visitor. Lord Ruth 
 ven seemed to feel this. He made a 
 powerful effort to suppress his emotion, 
 in which he partially succeeded, and now 
 
 said, in a voice which had grown calm 
 and ceremonious again : 
 
 "You speak of returning to your 
 home, sir then you do not reside in 
 Williamsburg ? " 
 
 "No, my lord." 
 
 " Your residence is ? " 
 
 " In the mountains." 
 
 "The Blue Ridge?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord. From the door of my 
 little home you may look upon a ring 
 wellnigh of blue mountains, like waves 
 on the horizon." 
 
 " That must be indeed a most pictu 
 resque prospect, sir. The Blue Ridge, I 
 have indeed heard, is very beautiful." 
 
 " Admirably beautiful and imposing." 
 
 " As the Alps and Apennines, do you 
 think, sir?" 
 
 " Oh, doubtless not ; but I have never 
 seen either, and can form no opinion." 
 
 "Then, you have never visited Eu 
 rope, Mr. Innis ? " 
 
 " Never, my lord. I am a mere Buck 
 skin, as the phrase is in our country, and 
 scarce travelled beyond my poor parish in 
 the mountains." 
 
 Lord Ruthven drew a long breath, 
 and continued to gaze intently at the 
 youth. 
 
 "I thought I had seen you be 
 fore," he said, in a low tone, and with 
 an agitation which he could not mas 
 ter. 
 
 "I fancied so," Innis replied, looking 
 with some astonishment at the speaker. 
 
 " You fancied so ? " 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 "Pray, why?" 
 
 "From some singular exclamations 
 which you uttered yesterday." 
 
 " Some exclamations ! " 
 
 " When you had not fully recovered 
 from the stunning effect of your fall. 1 
 
 "Oh, yes! " returned Lord Ruthven, 
 with a sickly smile, " so that I uttered, 
 you say some singular exclamations ? " 
 
 " Singular only as appearing to indi 
 cate upon your part an impression that 
 
14 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 you had met with me in Europe, and 
 were surprised to find me in Vir 
 ginia." 
 
 " Oh, I said that? How very absurc 
 these fancies of fever ! " 
 
 "Iain assured that fever invariably 
 produces these effects." 
 
 " And you attached no importance 
 I presume, to these wanderings, sir? " 
 "None whatever." 
 " They are truly absurd, and at times, 
 I fancy, rather laughable. Did I say more 
 in my delirium? I am naturally curious 
 to hear of my vagaries." 
 
 The sickly smile was repeated, as 
 Lord Ruthven uttered these words with 
 assumed carelessness ; but his intent and 
 burning eyes, fixed on the face of his vis 
 itor, betrayed the deep importance which 
 he attached to the reply. 
 
 Again Innis could not avoid observ 
 ing that singular agitation. He hesitated, 
 feeling a vague astonishment and uneasi 
 ness. "Whither was the singular colloquy 
 drifting? What was the object of Lord 
 Ruthven in these questions, and why was 
 he so deeply agitated ? 
 
 "You are silent, sir!" said Lord 
 Ruth ven, with feverish emotion; "I wish 
 to know " 
 
 His voice had grown brief and impe 
 rious ; but he suddenly stopped. 
 
 " Pardon my rudeness, Mr. Innis," he 
 said, sorrowfully; "my nerves indeed 
 must have been shaken, that I address a 
 gentleman of your quality with so little 
 ceremony. I beg you will overlook my 
 rudeness." 
 
 Innis smiled. 
 
 " I am far from thinking any apology 
 necessary, my lord; nor was there aught 
 in your tone even at which I could justly 
 take offence." 
 
 Thanks for your courtesy, sir; and 
 now may I beg to repeat my question in 
 milder terms? " 
 
 " Your question? " 
 
 " Whether I said aught more in my 
 delirium yesterday than that I thought I 
 
 had met with you in Europe, and did 
 not expect to see you here ? " 
 " Frankly, you did say more." 
 " What more, may I ask ? " said Lord 
 Ruthven, turning a shade paler. 
 
 Innis still hesitated. He remembered 
 distinctly the words uttered by the noble 
 man on the preceding day : 
 
 " That face, that form again! and 
 here ! when I thought I had fled from 
 him forever !" 
 
 He looked at Lord Ruthven and was 
 silent a moment ; then he said : 
 
 " Your lordship attaches undue im 
 portance to these exclamations of fever 
 yours did not differ, probably, from 
 those uttered by others at such mo 
 ments. I am happy to find that this 
 confusion of mind has now wholly disap 
 peared and that " 
 
 "Pardon the interruption, Mr. In 
 nis ! " said Lord Ruthven, feverishly, 
 but you have not replied to the ques 
 tion I had the honor to address to 
 you." 
 
 "You would have me ? " 
 
 "Essay to recall, if it please you, sir, 
 the exact words which I uttered. I beg 
 that you will reply frankly." 
 
 " I will do so, my lord. I do recall 
 your expressions." 
 
 " What were they, sir?" 
 
 " Your lordship compels me to re 
 member and repeat words which I had 
 almost forgotten. As you plainly wish 
 to have them repeated, I reply that upon 
 opening your eyes, and seeing me stand 
 ing before you, you addressed me as a 
 person from whom you thought you had 
 fled forever ! " 
 
 " Fled forever ! I said that ? " 
 
 " Such were your words, and I pray 
 ou to observe that they are only re 
 peated at your urgent request. They 
 will, of course, be buried in my bosom, 
 as having no importance or significance." 
 
 " I beseech you to thus bury them ! " 
 ixclaimed Lord Ruthven, with irrepres- 
 ible agitation, " and that from this mo- 
 
KNOWN AND UNKNOWN. 
 
 15 
 
 ment, if possible, you will even cease to 
 remember them." 
 
 " You can rely upon my word with 
 implicit faith," said the youth, proudly. 
 
 "I feel that I can do so, Mr. Tnnis. 
 Human beings with eyes and lips like 
 your own never deceive, sir ! " 
 
 Innis inclined his head. 
 
 " Thanks for your courtesy, my lord." 
 
 "Do not even remember if that is 
 possible, those foolish words, Mr. Innis ! 
 My life has been strange and unfortu 
 nate, my words and actions are wild, in 
 explicable, and yet could be explained! 
 I said yesterday but why recall that? 
 there is a woful mystery, to be frank 
 with you, sir, under what I uttered. I 
 speak to a man of honor your face says 
 Trust me! and would to God that I 
 could speak! I cannot. I have even 
 now said far more than in cooler mo 
 ments I should have done. We shall see 
 each other, after this day, no more, I 
 hope suppose I should say, sir ! " 
 
 Lord Ruthven wiped his forehead, 
 upon which had burst forth an icy per 
 spiration. By an immense effort, he 
 suppressed his emotion. 
 
 "This seems strange to you, doubt 
 less, sir, and you will think that my fever 
 has not left me," he added, more calmly. 
 " I shall, therefore, cease to allude fur 
 ther to this somewhat strange subject, 
 only repeating my request that you will 
 forget all these absurdities the ravings 
 of my delirium, and the words just ut 
 tered in confidence by one gentleman to 
 another." 
 
 " I shall carefully observe your re 
 quest, my lord. Your fever and your 
 confidence are both sacred to me." 
 
 "Thanks, sir," said Lord Ruthven. 
 " I could not feel more perfectly assured 
 of that than I now do, in consequence of 
 your promise." 
 
 His head drooped, and an expression 
 of weariness and sorrow came to his 
 face. Then, raising his eyes slowly, he 
 said: 
 
 "Do you know what thought passed 
 through my mind at that instant, Mr. 
 Innis ? I thought how glad I should be 
 could I solicit your friendship." 
 
 " My lord" 
 
 "But I cannot I should be proud 
 and glad to do so but but I shall in 
 two or three weeks return to Europe, 
 and it is wholly improbable that we 
 shall ever meet again in this world." 
 
 Innis listened with astonishment, and 
 could find no explanation for the tones 
 and glances of Lord Ruthven. His 
 voice had grown mild, cordial, and full 
 of kindness. The glance fixed upon the 
 young man s face was almost one of af 
 fection. 
 
 "You do me great honor," said the 
 youth, much moved, " and can you not 
 remain? Do so, if possible. I, too, 
 should be proud to secure your lord 
 ship s regard and friendship." 
 
 "You!" 
 
 "Assuredly." 
 
 "Oh, no! Tis impossible! And 
 yet no ! Pardon me I mean only that 
 I must return." 
 
 " You should remain with us longer. 
 Virginia is the land of lands ! " 
 
 " Tis doubtless beautiful, sir, but my 
 voyage is unavoidable." 
 
 " You cannot defer it? " 
 
 " I regret that it is out of my power 
 to do so, sir." 
 
 Innis rose. 
 
 " Well, at least, my lord," he said, 
 "your hurt is healing, and I shall not 
 have the great grief of reflecting that 
 your death lay at my door." 
 
 He smiled, but Lord Ruthven s face 
 had no smile upon it as he replied : 
 
 " Certainly no blame could or can 
 attach to you, sir." 
 
 " And Virginia is spared the sadness, 
 too, since you will not die on our soil." 
 
 "I know not, sir," said Lord Ruth 
 ven, with a singular and gloomy look. 
 
 Innis laughed. 
 
 "Let us hope for the best," he said. 
 
16 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 "I shall now bid your lordship good- 
 even." 
 
 " Can you not sit longer, sir ? " 
 
 "No, with thanks. I must set out 
 for the mountains at dawn, and I shall 
 now have the honor of taking a final 
 leave of your lordship." 
 
 As he spoke, Innis cordially extended 
 his hand, his handsome face lit up by a 
 friendly smile. 
 
 Lord Ruthven made no movement to 
 accept the proffered hand. 
 
 His eyes had suddenly closed, as if he 
 were about to faint, and his face had 
 grown ghastly pale. 
 
 " Your lordship is ill ! " exclaimed 
 Innis, hastening toward him. 
 
 " No, no ! " returned Lord Ruthven, 
 in a low voice, and repulsing the youth 
 with a motion of his hand. " That is to 
 say a slight dizziness a species of ver 
 tigo, doubtless but tis passed." 
 
 He rose, and, without making any mo 
 tion to offer his hand to his visitor, made 
 a low and courtly bow. 
 
 " Farewell, sir," he said ; " I owe you 
 many thanks for this obliging visit. 
 Should we not meet again, I shall retain 
 in my memory the recollection of a most 
 agreeable interview, Mr. Innis." 
 
 A second bow followed the words. 
 Innis, without offering his hand a second 
 time, replied by a similar inclination, 
 and, putting on his hat, went out of the 
 apartment. 
 
 As the door closed, Lord Ruthven 
 tottered rather than walked to the couch, 
 and fell upon it, as though his strength 
 were completely exhausted. 
 
 " No, no, no ! " he groaned, " I could 
 not take his hand ! I could not be guilty 
 of that infamy at least ! Whatever devil 
 drives me whatever I do I will not be 
 false no! never! If he falls by my 
 sword twill not be the friend whose 
 hand I ve clasped. Knowing " 
 
 There the voice of the speaker died 
 away in a species of gasp. 
 
 " Cursed ! cursed ! cursed ! " 
 
 These words escaped in a stifled whis 
 per from Lord Ruthven s lips, and he fell 
 back, closing his eyes. 
 
 When, ten minutes afterward, Fergus 
 entered the apartment, he found that his 
 master had fainted. 
 
 V. 
 
 IN THE DARKNESS. 
 
 SINCE the scenes just described, three 
 days had passed. Night had come, and 
 a violent storm was lashing the capital. 
 The wind rolled with the hoarse moan 
 of the sea in a tempest, above the crouch 
 ing houses ; from moment to moment the 
 black clouds cracked from horizon to 
 zenith, letting out the lightning; and 
 these dazzling flashes were followed by 
 bursts of thunder, which seemed to utter 
 aloud the fury of inanimate Nature. 
 
 In spite of the storm and the heavy 
 drops preluding the coming rain, Lord 
 Ruthven, who had risen from his sick- 
 couch on that evening, took his way tow 
 ard the governor s palace to call upon 
 his excellency. 
 
 He wore a suit of black velvet, and 
 the small short-sword, then a portion of 
 full-dress costume. The lightning, from 
 instant to instant, revealed his funereal 
 figure and pallid face. From the gloomy 
 expression of eye and lip it was plain 
 that the agitating scenes of the day of his 
 accident had profoundly impressed him. 
 
 " Well," he muttered, " I will sound 
 his excellency to-night upon the subject 
 of my departure that is the best course. 
 He has left Williamsburg for the mo 
 ment, the danger is past but who 
 knows? He may come back; fate is 
 powerful ; and then then yes, I will 
 go! That is best!" 
 
 He went on, paying no attention to 
 the storm. 
 
 " Let me not palter with my destiny," 
 he added, his voice low and mournful, 
 his lips assuming a melancholy smile. 
 
IX THE DARKNESS. 
 
 " This accident is a presage reciprocity 
 is the law of Nature his act on this very 
 street struck me down mine will strike 
 
 A dazzling flash of lightning followed 
 the words, and the roar of thunder suc 
 ceeded. A slight color had come to the 
 pale face. 
 
 " I believe I enjoy this hurly-burly of 
 Nature," muttered Lord Ruthven ; " tis 
 in unison with my stormy life. Yes ; the 
 more I reflect, the more clearly I per 
 ceive tis best to go. And yet am I 
 panic- stricken, timid, nervous? He is no 
 longer here. He has gone to his home 
 in the mountains " 
 
 The speaker struck suddenly against 
 some object approaching him: It was a 
 man whose footsteps had been drowned 
 by the uproar of the wind, and whose 
 form had been concealed by the black 
 darkness of the night. Lord Ruthven 
 drew his dress-sword for it appeared 
 to him that something hostile was in 
 tended by this unknown and, retreat 
 ing a step, directed the point of the 
 sword toward the shadowy figure. 
 
 At the same instant a flash of light 
 ning cut the air like a white-hot blade, 
 and Ruthven recognized Innis. 
 
 " You ! " he cried. 
 
 "Yes, I, my lord!" returned the 
 young man, with some sternness in his 
 voice. " What means this threat this 
 sword s point at my breast? " 
 
 Lord Ruthven shuddered from head 
 to foot, and dropped the point of his 
 dress-sword, which he violently thrust 
 back into its scabbard. 
 
 "You, sir!" he repeated. "Good 
 Heavens! who could have dreamed of 
 this encounter ? I thought you absent 
 my sword s point twas unwittingly 
 that I drew my weapon pardon me, sir 
 the night is dark, and you have not 
 then left Williamsburg?" 
 
 The agitation of the speaker was so 
 great that Innis understood instantly that 
 nothing hostile had been intended. 
 
 "No, my lord," he said; "and we 
 encounter each other again under singu 
 lar circumstances." 
 
 " Fatal circumstances ! " 
 
 Innis littered a light-hearted laugh in 
 the darkness. 
 
 " Not so very fatal, my lord, since no 
 one is hurt. Your sword at my breast 
 caused rne some astonishment, and a little 
 irritation, it may be. But a word ex 
 plains all. You no doubt took me for a 
 footpad, and in the dark tis well to be 
 on one s guard." 
 
 " Yes and in the light," was the re 
 ply of Ruthven, iu a singular tone. 
 
 "You were going ? " 
 
 " To see his excellency. And you, 
 sir?" 
 
 " To the house of a gentleman living 
 near the capitol." 
 
 " You designed leaving Williamsburg, 
 I think, when we parted, sir ? " 
 
 "I did so design, uiy lord, but the 
 fates forbade." 
 
 "The fates?" 
 
 " Or chance, or Providence, as there 
 is no chance, I think, in life." 
 
 "You are right, sir. If you will not 
 think me singular or intrusfve, may I ask 
 what you call the fates, or Provi 
 dence? " 
 
 Lord Ruthven heard the smile, so to 
 say, of Innis, as he replied in the dark 
 ness : 
 
 " Oh, my lord, the explanation is ex 
 tremely simple. I came to Williamsburg, 
 designing to make arrangements with 
 my father s friend, Mr. Wythe, to become 
 a law-student in his oflice when about 
 to leave the capital he begged me to stay 
 and copy lor him some important pa 
 pers." 
 
 Lord Ruthven remained silent. 
 
 " There is all the mystery," said In 
 nis. 
 
 " And this work, sir doubtless, tis 
 onerous?" 
 
 ."Somewhat." 
 
 " Twill detain you longer? " 
 
18 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 "I fear so." 
 
 " When you are anxious to return? " 
 
 "I confess, I shall be pleased to do 
 
 so." 
 
 Lord Ruthven reflected for a few mo 
 ments, and then said, in a melancholy 
 tone: 
 
 " I envy you, Mr. Innis, this return 
 to your family. The hearthstone will 
 hrighten for you ; with me tis different. 
 I have no family and no home a resi 
 dence only." 
 
 * I am no less unfortunate, my lord. 
 My parents are dead, and I have no 
 brothers or sisters." 
 
 "But relatives, friends perchance, 
 one nearer and dearer than any friend " 
 The expression of the speaker s voice 
 was singular. The words were careless, 
 but he listened anxiously, it was plain, 
 for Innis s reply. 
 
 " Nearer and dearer ? " said the 
 youth, in a confused voice. 
 
 * I mean that you are expected by 
 some dear one yonder, Mr. Innis some 
 young lady who loves you " 
 
 " Oh, no, my lord! I m not so fortu 
 nate." 
 
 44 There is none such ? " 
 "None." 
 
 Lord Ruthven drew a long breath. 
 " Heaven be thanked ! " he muttered. 
 " Your lordship said ? " 
 "Nothing, Mr. Innis." 
 A sudden flash revealed Lord Ruth- 
 ven s face. He was sunk in profound 
 thought his eyes half closed. But this 
 preoccupation rapidly disappeared. 
 
 " I am detaining you, Mr. Innis," he 
 said. " This interview, as you have said, 
 is singular. Commencing with my sword- 
 point directed at your breast" the 
 speaker shuddered as he uttered these 
 words "and ending with a somewhat 
 ill-bred intrusion upon your private af 
 fairs." 
 
 "Oh, not at all, I beg you to be 
 lieve," said Innis ; " twas perfectly nat 
 ural." 
 
 " There was certainly no intent to 
 offend you with sword or tongue. Mr. 
 Innis; and now I bid you good-even. 
 The storm is about to burst. We shall 
 not meet again, sir I have resolved to 
 return to Europe. Farewell, sir." 
 
 He passed Innis, as he spoke, walking 
 rapidly, and not offering his hand. 
 
 "The die is cast I go, and go at 
 once!" he muttered; "to stay were 
 madness indeed ! " 
 
 The roar of the wind drowned the 
 words. Unconsciously he turned his 
 head. At the same moment a vivid flash 
 lit up the street, revealing the form of 
 Innis. 
 
 The youth was standing motionless, 
 looking after him. 
 
 VI. 
 
 EUTHVEN S RESOLUTION. 
 
 TOWARD midnight Lord Ruthven re 
 turned from the governor s palace, 
 through the drenched streets, and, going 
 to his apartment in the Raleigh, aroused 
 Fergus, who was stretched asleep upon a 
 pallet in one corner of the chamber. 
 
 "Fergus! Fergus!" he said, fever 
 ishly. 
 
 "My lord," was the cool response; 
 and Fergus, wide awake in a moment, 
 rose to his feet. 
 
 "Pack my trunks, Fergus," said Lord 
 Ruthven, in the same agitated voice ; " we 
 are going." 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 And the old servant calmly began to 
 collect the articles of his master s ward 
 robe, carefully fold *i.<?m, and deposit 
 them in two or three large travelling- 
 runks which stood in a sort of closet. 
 
 " We are going," repeated Lord Ruth 
 ven, walking up and down the apart 
 ment. 
 
 " To Europe, my lord? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Fergus nodded. 
 
FERGUS RIDES. 
 
 19 
 
 "I am glad to go," he said, " and at 
 once." 
 
 "I have seen him again! " 
 "Him?" 
 
 Fergus made the same movement with 
 his head. 
 
 " Then he has not left this town? " 
 
 41 No." 
 
 " Your lordship met him? " 
 
 " Yes to-night." 
 
 "In the storm, my lord? " 
 
 " Yes; and wellnigh began the strug 
 gle my sword at his breast." 
 
 And Lord Buthven described his noc 
 turnal meeting with Innis. 
 
 Fergus listened, busily packing the 
 trunks meanwhile. 
 
 " Well," he said, when Euthven had 
 finished his narrative, "I think your 
 lordship acts wisely. This is no place 
 for you if he is here. I know not how 
 it is, but I grow more frightened day by 
 day. Your lordship is changing, and for 
 the worse; let us go." 
 
 "Yes, yes! Mount your horse to 
 morrow, ride to the port on James 
 Kiver, and engage our passage to Eng 
 land." 
 
 " I will do so, my lord, at dawn." 
 
 And Fergus continued steadily to 
 pack the travelling-trunks. 
 
 Lord Buthven walked up and down 
 the apartment for some time in gloomy 
 thought, then took his seat at a table, 
 and wrote for an hour ; then, laying 
 down his pen, rested his forehead upon 
 his arms, crossed on the table, and either 
 reflected or slept. 
 
 Fergus continued to pack the trunks. 
 
 VII. 
 
 FERGTTS EIDE8. 
 
 WITH the first light of dawn Fergus 
 was in the saddle, and riding in the di 
 rection of James River, where, at the 
 
 nearest wharf, he expected to find some 
 bark bound for England. 
 
 He saw two vessels, and was soon 
 making inquiries. 
 
 " You are outward bound soon? " he 
 said to the captain of one. 
 
 "No," was the reply; "just arrived 
 from Portsmouth." 
 
 "And that other bark yonder? " 
 
 "From the Bermudas hugged me 
 close all the way came up the river to 
 gether." 
 
 " There is no outward-bound ship ? " 
 
 " None." 
 
 Fergus rode back and reported the 
 result to his master, who received the 
 information in gloomy silence. 
 
 "Bring the last number of the Ga 
 zette" he said, at length. 
 
 Fergus descended, procured the Vir 
 ginia Gazette from the landlord, and re 
 turned. 
 
 " This paper brought me ill-fortune 
 but the other day," Lord Buthven mut 
 tered, with a painful smile ; " perhaps 
 twill bring good fortune to-day let us 
 see," 
 
 He opened the paper, and his eyes 
 fell upon the lines: 
 
 "Port of For*. The Charming Sally, 
 Captain Fellowes, intends for England in 
 six days from this date. Passage secured 
 by applying to Captain Fellowes." 
 
 Lord Buthven read this announce 
 ment to Fergus, and said : 
 
 "This vessel sails to-morrow; I will 
 go in her." 
 
 Fergus nodded, went to the stable, 
 mounted, and took his way toward York- 
 town, where he found Captain Fellowes 
 standing on the wharf, and superintend 
 ing the efforts of his crew to drag the 
 Charming Sally on shore by means of 
 cables. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " said Fergus. 
 Captain Fellowes turned round, sur 
 veyed Fergus attentively, and said : 
 
 " The matter is, my friend, that the 
 Charming Sally has scraped a hole in her 
 
20 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 sheathing, and that the young lady is 
 going to be laid up, neither more nor 
 less than happens on certain other oc 
 casions with the interesting sex." 
 
 And Captain Fellowes winked, rolled 
 the quid of tobacco in his ruddy cheek 
 under his tongue, and uttered a jovial 
 laugh. k 
 
 "Then the ship will not sail?" said 
 Fergus, cool and unimpressed. 
 
 "Can t, my friend," said the captain. 
 "She d spring a leak in the very middle 
 of the Atlantic, mayhap ; then good-by 
 to the Charming Sally." 
 
 "Is any other vessel in port outward 
 bound ? " 
 
 " There is no other." 
 "And how long will it take to repair 
 your vessel ? " 
 
 "Well, it may take three weeks, and 
 it may take three months. To tell you 
 the truth, my friend, I begin to think we 
 have made our last voyage this year." 
 
 Fergus rode back to Williamsburg, 
 and reported this second failure to Lord 
 Ruthven. A bitter smile this time greet 
 ed the return of the old servant. 
 
 "Fate seems to have assumed the 
 direction of affairs," said Lord Ruth- 
 ven ; "but I shall make one more effort. 
 Rest to-day, Fergus; to-morrow ride to 
 St. Mary s, on the Potomac. If you fail 
 to engage a passage there, proceed north 
 ward, if necessary, to the port of New 
 York. I have no choice ; any species of 
 vessel will content me, seaworthy or 
 unseaworthy. This may end as it will." 
 And Lord Ruthven, leaning back in 
 his chair, was silent. Fergus looked at 
 him fixedly, shook his head, but made 
 no reply, and quietly left the apartment. 
 On the next morning he ordered his 
 horse to be saddled, put a change of 
 clothes in a small valise, and then, hat 
 in hand, said to Lord Ruthven, who was 
 gazing upon the floor in a fit of gloomy 
 abstraction : 
 
 "I am about to set out; has your 
 lordship any further orders ? " 
 
 "None." 
 
 "I must engage passages for your 
 lordship and myself, either at St. Mary s 
 or at New York?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Fergus bowed, and went toward the 
 door. As he did so, steps were heard 
 ascending the stairs, and a knock came 
 at the door. The old body-servant 
 opened it. A man, wearing the livery 
 of the governor, appeared, holding in 
 his hand a letter. 
 
 "For his lordship, "he said. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE TWO LETTERS. 
 
 RUTHVEN mechanically opened the 
 letter, glancing at it with little interest. 
 As he read, however, his expression 
 grew more gloomy. Having finished it. 
 he placed it upon the table, muttering 
 
 "Impossible!" 
 
 Fergus glanced at his master, hesi 
 tated, then returned a step, and said : 
 
 "Will your lordship send a reply by 
 the servant ? " 
 
 Ruthven raised his head. 
 
 "No yes let him wait a few mo 
 ments." 
 
 Fergus communicated this order to 
 the governor s servant, who closed the 
 door, and descended the stairs. 
 
 " Fergus ! " said Ruthven, without 
 raising his eyes. 
 
 " My lord ! " 
 
 " That same fate we were talking of 
 has taken a new form." 
 
 "A new form, my lord ? " 
 
 "The form of his excellency the gov 
 ernor." 
 
 Fergus nodded ; nothing ever seemed 
 to astonish him. 
 
 " Listen! " said his master, in a cold, 
 careless voice. 
 
 And, taking the letter from the table, 
 he read : 
 
THE TWO LETTERS. 
 
 21 
 
 "MY DEAE LOKD: I have the honor 
 to say that I have received your note of 
 yesterday, informing me of your desire 
 to return to Scotland, but I trust tis not 
 essential to your plans, or required by 
 circumstances, that this departure should 
 be so very sudden. Twill subject me, I 
 fear, to serious inconvenience, as I high 
 ly appreciate your services, my lord, 
 and should with difficulty supply your 
 place. 
 
 "Your lordship will observe that I 
 plead for a temporary change in your 
 determination, both officially an4 as a 
 personal friend. 
 
 " Receive, my lord, ." 
 
 "You see," said Lord Ruthven, stop 
 ping suddenly, and throwing down the 
 letter. 
 
 " Yes, my lord. And what will be 
 your reply ? My own movements will 
 depend thereon." 
 
 " I shall not change my decision." 
 
 "Your lordship will go, all the 
 same ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Fergus went toward the door. 
 
 " Wait an instant and take my reply," 
 said Lord Ruthven. "These strange 
 serving-men sink their eyes before me, 
 but look pryingly at my poor pale face, 
 Fergus, when my eyes are turned from 
 them. I would be served by none but 
 yourself." 
 
 And, drawing his chair to the table, 
 Lord Ruthven took up a pen, and began 
 to write. 
 
 He had written but two or three 
 lines, when steps again ascended the 
 stairs without, and a second knock was 
 heard at the door. 
 
 Fergus went and opened it. A ser 
 vant belonging to the tavern stood be 
 fore him, a letter in his hand. 
 
 u This was left for Lord "Ruthven," 
 said the man. 
 
 " By whom ? " said Fergus. 
 
 "By young Mr. Innis." 
 
 At that name Lord Ruthven quickly 
 raised his head. 
 
 " Mr. Innis ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes, my lord," said the man. 
 
 " When was this note brought give 
 it me ! " 
 
 The man was about to approach, but 
 Fergus intercepted him. 
 
 "No one waits on his lordship but 
 myself," he said. 
 
 Placing the letter on the silver waiter, 
 he handed it to Lord Ruthven, who took 
 it hurriedly, and tore it open with visi 
 ble agitation. The letter contained these 
 lines : 
 
 " For Lord RutJixen. 
 
 " MY LOED : You have twice, with 
 great courtesy, expressed your good- 
 wishes, in bidding me farewell it is I 
 who go from Williamsburg the first, now : 
 and I can do no less than reciprocate 
 your lordship s obliging sentiments, and 
 express the hope that you may enjoy 
 health and happiness, whether in Vir 
 ginia or in Scotland. 
 
 " Having terminated my business at 
 the capital in a briefer space of time 
 than I supposed I should do, I am just 
 getting into the saddle to return to the 
 mountains. Should your lordship ever 
 find it suit your convenience, a visit to 
 my little cottage there would greatly 
 please Your lordship s 
 
 " Very obedient servant, 
 
 "EDMUND IXNIS." 
 
 Lord Ruthven drew a long breath, 
 and then turned to the servant who had 
 brought the letter. 
 
 "Who left this?" he said. 
 
 "Mr. Innis himself, my lord. He 
 was riding by with young Mr. Gary." 
 
 "On a journey?" 
 
 "Yes, my lord." 
 
 Lord Ruthven looked at the letter 
 glanced then at the governor s tore up 
 what he had written, and said to Fergus 
 in a low tone : 
 
22 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 " As there is no further danger, you 
 need not ride to-day." 
 
 Fergus bowed. 
 
 As he left the room, he muttered in 
 Gaelic as before : 
 
 "It is fated!" 
 
 An hour afterward, his excellency 
 the governor received a note from Lord 
 Ruthven, saying that, in order not to sub 
 ject his excellency to inconvenience, he 
 would abandon for the present his in 
 tended voyage, which nevertheless might 
 be rendered necessary at any moment. 
 
 Having dispatched this reply, Lord 
 Ruthven shut himself up, locked his 
 door, and, drawing from a secret pocket 
 in his breast a book, began to write in it. 
 
 " Fatality that is strong ! " he said 
 in a low tone, " but the will of a man 
 is th at nothing? I have willed naught 
 shall move me ! " 
 
 IX. 
 
 Df WHICH THE HISTORY PASSES TO THE 
 MOUNTAINS. 
 
 THE current of the narrative bears 
 us now from "Williamsburg toward the 
 mountains. 
 
 It was there that the singular drama 
 we essay to unfold before the reader 
 was to find its stage, or at least to play 
 its chief scenes ; and, by accompanying 
 him who is the main personage, we shall 
 witness what occurred. 
 
 The note for Lord Ruthven had been 
 delivered at the door of the Raleigh by 
 Edmund Innis, as he passed, on horse 
 back, along Gloucester Street, directing 
 his course toward the Blue Ridge. Be 
 side him rode a young gentleman, with 
 pale-blue eyes, chestnut curls, and laugh 
 ing lips. 
 
 Philip, or Phil Gary, as everybody 
 called him, was about the age of Innis, 
 that is to say, twenty-two or three, 
 graceful, vigorous, and active in every 
 
 movement, clad in a velvet hunting-suit, 
 with innumerable pockets ; and from his 
 cocked hat floated a handsome feather. 
 It would be impossible to imagine any 
 thing more joyous, gallant, and redolent 
 of youth, than his smile. Life brimmed 
 for him, with gayety, enjoyment, and the 
 charming zest which accompanies the 
 first years of manhood very plainly, the 
 inexorable ennui which lies at the 
 foundation of human life, as says Bos- 
 suet, had never touched him with its 
 chilling finger. Jest, laughter, merri 
 ment, overflowed in him; you would have 
 said that this young human being was 
 glad that he was alive. 
 
 Beside Innis, somewhat sad and 
 thoughtful, Phil Gary resembled a sun 
 beam plunging through foliage into some 
 shadowy nook ; he sang, laughed, rallied 
 his companion, looking on all sides with 
 his roving glance, and turning all he saw 
 into comedy. 
 
 " Come, old fellow ! " he exclaimed, 
 " what s the matter ? Laugh, I say ! " 
 
 u At what, Phil ? " said Innis, smil 
 ing. 
 
 " At every thing, or nothing. What s 
 the use of sighing ? " 
 
 "I am not sighing." 
 
 "Well, you are thinking that s 
 equally bad." 
 
 " Don t you ever think? " 
 
 " Never ! I sing." 
 
 And Phil Gary burst forth into a 
 song which made the forest, through 
 which they were passing, echo again. 
 
 " Very good ! " he said when he had 
 finished his song; "I know what you are 
 thinking of." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " I mean what person." 
 
 " Tell me." 
 
 " Of Honoria." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said Innis, coloring ; 
 " why should I waste my time in in 
 what you mean? And yet, Phil I 
 might retort and say that you were 
 thinking of her elder sister ? " 
 
THE HISTORY PASSES TO THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 23 
 
 " Wrong ! I never indulge in that 
 folly." 
 
 " Then my fair cousin Lou and your 
 self have quarrelled." 
 
 " Not in the least. All the quarrel 
 ling is done by the old lady my vener 
 able mamma in the coach yonder." 
 " Look ; she is calling you." 
 In fact, there was seen in front a 
 large family chariot, drawn by four 
 horses ; and from the window waved a 
 white handkerchief. Mr. Phil Gary 
 obeyed this summons, and, putting spur 
 to his horse, was soon beside the coach, 
 which was occupied by an elderly lady 
 in black silk. 
 
 "Philip, my dear," said the elderly 
 lady, drawing down a large pair of 
 glasses until they rested upon her nose, 
 and gazing over them. 
 " Well, mamma." 
 
 " Did you write in my name to Mrs. 
 Byrd to say that we should stop at 
 Westover?" 
 
 " Yes, my respected mamma." 
 " In time ? " 
 
 "Full time; you see there are some 
 young ladies there on a visit ; and as I 
 am in pursuit of a wife " 
 
 " Nonsense, Philip ! why will you 
 run on in that absurd manner? " 
 
 " Absurd, my dear madam ? I think 
 tis the most intelligent thing I could 
 do." 
 
 The scapegrace turned his head as he 
 spoke and winked at Innis, who had 
 ridden up. 
 
 " Why think of marriage for a dozen 
 years to come ? " 
 
 " Behold," cried Mr. Phil Gary, " the 
 most unreasonable of her sex ! May I 
 request to be informed of my age, my 
 dear madam ? " 
 
 "You are twenty-three in Novem 
 ber." 
 
 "And the age of my papa when he 
 married my mamma ? " 
 
 "There, there, Philip let us not 
 speak so lightly I was wrong perhaps, 
 
 but you are my only stay now ; you must 
 remember that, my dear." 
 
 The young man became for a moment 
 serious, and said : 
 
 "My dear mother, there is no danger 
 of my leaving you. A wife ! what do 
 I want with a wife ? Rest easy on that 
 score." 
 
 After which assurance, he rode on 
 with Innis, in advance of the coach, 
 which, heavily laden with huge trunks 
 went creaking on its way. 
 
 I know nothing more delightful than 
 a horseback journey through the varie 
 gated forest, in the brilliant, breezy 
 autumn, when youth and health give a 
 zest to existence, and the wind in the 
 foliage whispers its mysterious secrets. 
 Then the fresh breeze laughs in riper 
 age it sighs. To be young is the secret ! 
 to ride then through the splendid, 
 many-colored forest, the cream of earth 
 ly enjoyment. 
 
 I should like to pause at " Westover," 
 where the travellers were received with 
 warm hospitality. But these old in 
 teriors interest few persons to - day. 
 " Westover," the home once of Colonel 
 William Byrd, the haunt of starry-eyed 
 maidens, passes, as on a moving canvas, 
 and our party continue their way. They 
 halted again at " Belvidere," on the site 
 of the present city of Richmond, where 
 they were lulled to sleep by the sweet 
 murmur of the falls in the river then 
 they stopped at " Dungeonness " the 
 home of Mr. Randolph in Goochland 
 then a long day s journey brought them 
 in sight of "Elmwood," the mansion of 
 Mrs. Gary. 
 
 On the horizon were seen "Blen 
 heim," "Carysbrook," and other ancient 
 mansions; and, sparkling like a fallen 
 star, with a last beam of the sun which 
 fell upon its windows, " Rivanna " crown 
 ing its lofty hill and dominating the 
 whole region. 
 
 This enchanting land of field and 
 forest, through which ran sparkling like 
 
24 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 threads of silver the Rivanna and its 
 affluents, was bounded in the west by 
 the deep-blue mountain, extending from 
 north to south like a long surge of the 
 ocean. Above it spread the purple flush 
 of sunset; against this exquisite back 
 ground every azure crest stood out in 
 clear relief; and a flock of birds moving 
 on slow wings amid the gray clouds, 
 sunk down toward the fairy-land of sun 
 set. 
 
 Innis gazed from the portico of " Elm- 
 wood " at this beautiful scene slowly 
 turned his eyes toward the lofty hill 
 crowned by " Rivanna " and mur 
 mured with a happy smile : 
 
 " I shall see her soon ! " 
 
 X. 
 
 HONORIA BRAND. 
 
 INNIS yielded to the importunities of 
 Phil Gary, and spent the night at Elm- 
 wood ; but at sunrise was again in the 
 saddle, and on his way to "Rivanna," 
 where his friend promised soon to join 
 him. 
 
 The variegated foliage was fresh, 
 dewy, and sonorous with the " caw caw " 
 of the crows. That familiar sound 
 struck on the ear of Innis with delight, 
 and he went on at a gallop, full of joy, 
 reaching finally the summit of a hill 
 within half a mile of the old country- 
 house. There he checked his horse, and 
 looked for some moments with admira 
 tion on the prospect. To the loft were 
 circling hills, abrupt, heavily clothed 
 with evergreens, and cut by the foaming 
 current of a mountain-stream, above 
 which towered mighty masses of rock 
 full of wild and picturesque beauty. In 
 front and to the right the ground trended 
 off into charming slopes, dotted with 
 oaks and ash-trees, and a rustic bridge 
 was thrown across the stream below. 
 On a commanding eminence beyond, 
 standing proudly amid the great oaks of 
 
 the extensive grounds, was "Rivanna," 
 with its white portico, broad wings, 
 stacks of chimneys, and long rows of 
 quarters, the whole lit up by the gold 
 of sunrise. 
 
 Innis stopped for a few moments only. 
 Something besides the landscape evident 
 ly attracted him. He put spur to his 
 horse, galloped down the hill, crossed 
 the bridge, and passed through a tall 
 gate, with ornamental capitals on the 
 posts, into the grounds of the mansion. 
 Suddenly he drew rein and uttered a joy 
 ous exclamation. 
 
 Within twenty paces of him stood a 
 young lady, leaning against the trunk of 
 one of the great oaks, looking toward 
 him, blushing a little, and smiling. 
 
 Innis threw himself from the saddle 
 rather than dismounted, and, hastening 
 toward the young lady, exclaimed 
 "Honoria!" 
 
 She came toward him with her fresh 
 cheeks just tinted with roses, pushing 
 back some brown curls from her fore 
 head, and holding out a small hand. 
 
 " I am very glad you have come back, 
 Edmund," she said, simply. 
 
 " And I am happy for the first time 
 since I left you, Honoria." 
 
 There was something ardent, earnest, 
 and moving, in the voice of the speaker. 
 His companion did not blush, but a 
 quick light filled the great soft eyes, and 
 an exquisite expression of happiness, at 
 once trustful and timid, came to her lips. 
 The sunrise fell upon her as she stood 
 thus, and seemed to caress her. She was 
 not more than eighteen, with a slender 
 figure, which swayed naturally as she 
 moved on her little feet, and a complexion 
 all lilies and roses. What was better 
 than the lilies and roses, the white neck 
 bending like a swan s, and the whole 
 physique of this gracious creature, was 
 the modesty of her glance and smile a 
 certain winning sweetness whixjh said, 
 " I am pure," as the snow says, " I am 
 white." 
 
BIRTHS, DEATHS, AND MARRIAGES. 
 
 25 
 
 Her hand lay for a moment in that of 
 Edmund Innis, and then was withdrawn, 
 J>ut without affectation or mock prudery. 
 
 As they walked up the hill, Innis 
 leading his horse by the bridle, the feel 
 ings of the youth were translated in his 
 glances, which dwelt upon the fresh face 
 beside him with an expression which left 
 nothing in doubt. Eager, tender, their 
 light veiled, as it were, by happiness, the 
 eyes of the youth betrayed his secret. 
 
 "When did you leave Williams- 
 burg?" 
 
 " Three days ago." 
 
 " You came alone ? " 
 
 " With our friends of Elm wood." 
 
 " That must have made the journey 
 pleasant." 
 
 "Very pleasant." 
 
 Does the reader wish to have record 
 ed any more of this thrilling conversa 
 tion? I spare him. Why should not 
 youth and love play their parts unseen ? 
 Why repeat the commonplaces under 
 which the heart beats ? The words ut 
 tered are nothing the aim of each is to 
 hear the other s voice. So on this morn 
 ing, full of sunshine, foliage, freshness, 
 and charm, the young man and the girl 
 walked beside each other, exchanging 
 nothings, which were better than wit. 
 
 A short walk beneath the great oaks, 
 over a path gradually ascending, brought 
 them in front of the long porches of the 
 great mansion. 
 
 Innis entered, Honoria ran to an 
 nounce his arrival to her mother, and 
 the young man went into the library. 
 
 Before him sat, in a great arm-chair, 
 Colonel Brand. 
 
 XI. 
 
 BIETH8, DEATHS, AND MARRIAGES. 
 
 OF "Rivanna" and its owner it is 
 necessary to say a few words before pro 
 ceeding further in this narrative. 
 
 The house had been built by Colonel 
 
 Seaton, a prominent gentleman of the 
 colony, who, attracted by the beauty and 
 fertility of the Piedmont country, had 
 purchased a great estate here, sent to Eng 
 land for workmen and materials, and 
 erected this fine mansion, at the then ex- 
 tremest limits of civilization. 
 
 It is the hard fate of the rich to have 
 some nail in the shoe. Colonel Seaton s 
 nail was the want of children. The 
 great house was dreary without them ; 
 and when one day he was informed that 
 his brother and his sister had died, leav 
 ing each a little girl without a home, he 
 went and brought the children to Ri 
 vanna, adopted them as his own, and, on 
 the death of his wife some years after 
 ward, gave his whole attention to the 
 task of rearing them as joint heiresses of 
 his estate. 
 
 The elder of the two cousins was his 
 favorite in spite of her high-spirited and 
 somewhat restive character. But the 
 moment came when this affection sus 
 tained a heavy blow. The young girl 
 married Mr. Edmund Innis, an amiable 
 and honorable but thriftless gentleman 
 of the neighborhood ; and Colonel Sea- 
 ton, who had opposed the alliance in 
 every manner possible, made his niece a 
 low bow, and informed her that thence 
 forth they were to be strangers. 
 
 The separation soon became more 
 complete still. Colonel Seaton died. 
 When his will was opened it was found 
 that he had left the great estate of Ri 
 vanna to his younger niece, and to the 
 eldest nothing. 
 
 The younger was thus a great heiress, 
 and suitors promptly appeared. None, 
 however, pleased the young lady, and, 
 weary of the wilderness, she went to 
 spend the winter in Williams!) urg. 
 
 There her fate met her. Mr. Brand, 
 of an ancient family and a great estate, 
 paid his addresses. He was handsome, 
 he was courtly, he had made the grand 
 tour, he threw his money about in the 
 grandest style ; and, until his marriage 
 
26 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 with the young lady, which in due time 
 took place, it was not discovered that 
 the splendid suitor was bankrupt; his 
 luxury and seeming affluence a hollow 
 shell, covering hopeless debt. His 
 wealthy marriage, however, rescued him 
 from ruin ; his old associates lost sight 
 of him ; he had become a staid and im 
 posing personage the worshipful Colo 
 nel Brand, of Rivanna. 
 
 Years passed, and two daughters were 
 born to Colonel Brand ; when this his 
 tory opens they were approaching wom 
 anhood. Meanwhile, the elder cousin, 
 Mrs. Innis, gradually saw poverty closing 
 in upon her. Her husband was a gentle 
 man of the highest character, but be 
 longed to that class of persons with 
 whom every thing fails. Some men 
 have only to touch lead to turn it to 
 gold. Mr. Innis had only to touch gold 
 to turn it into lead. He had possessed a 
 considerable property as he advanced 
 in life it dwindled. In ten years more, 
 he would have been thrown homeless on 
 the world, when, fortunately or unfor 
 tunately, he died, leaving his widow 
 with an only son, and in possession of 
 but a small remnant of the once ample 
 estate of the Innises. 
 
 What is it that a mother does when 
 her husband dies, leaving her with one 
 darling child only ? She almost always 
 spoils the child : and Mrs. Innis did all 
 in her power to spoil Edmund. She did 
 not succeed. There was something in 
 the boy too proud, intelligent, and noble, 
 to be warped ; and, when his mother 
 died, in his eighteenth year, clasping him 
 with her last remains of strength to her 
 poor heart, she left him simple, sweet- 
 tempered, and unselfish. 
 
 The hard hand of loneliness thus 
 came to press upon the boy, as he 
 touched the threshold of manhood. Im 
 mured in his little house, resembling 
 rather a hunting-lodge than a dwelling, 
 in a gash of the mountain, he saw far 
 beneath him in the plain, "Rivanna," 
 
 " Carysbrook," " Castlehill," and the 
 happy homes of happy families, while 
 one or two old servants, who would not 
 desert him, were the only human beings 
 near him, and a few books were his 
 only other company. Then a new re 
 source suddenly presented itself. 
 
 The cousins his mother and Lady 
 Brand, as the wife of the lordly colonel 
 was colloquially called, in accordance 
 with a usage not uncommon in colo 
 nial Virginia had had no intercourse. 
 This, it must be said, was the fault of 
 Mrs. Innis, who, proud, sensitive, and 
 high-spirited, would respond to no over 
 tures, and resolutely declined intercourse 
 with those who had spoken ill, she be 
 lieved, of her husband. Death had come 
 now to heal this breach. The sod had 
 scarce closed over the poor lady, when 
 Lady Brand came in her coach up the 
 mountain-road entered the little house 
 went up to Edmund, who was about 
 to receive her with a bow, and, clasping 
 her arms around him, kissed him, and 
 said, with tears in her eyes : 
 
 " My poor child, you must not stay 
 here in your solitary home. You are 
 my blood, and I love you very much, as 
 I loved dear Anna. You must love me 
 a little in return." 
 
 Thereat the boy melted, and sobbed 
 in the good lady s arms. 
 
 An hour afterward they were at "Ri 
 vanna," and Edmund saw two young 
 ladies of twelve and fourteen come tow 
 ard him, offering their lips in accord 
 ance with instructions to their cousin. 
 
 Thenceforth the life of Innis changed. 
 A large part of his time was spent at 
 Rivanna ; and, in course of years, he 
 found it wellnigh impossible to remain 
 absent. The girl of twelve became the 
 maiden of fifteen, then the young lady 
 of eighteen ; and Innis passionately loved 
 her. Grave, calm, and serene in man 
 ner, the youth possessed strong impulses 
 and ardent aspirations. Solitude grew 
 distasteful, books wearied him Honoria 
 
BIRTHS, DEATHS, AND MARRIAGES. 
 
 27 
 
 was ever before his eyes ; and, mounting 
 his thorough-bred, one of the few luxu 
 ries left him, he would go to Rivanna, 
 spend whole days, and drink deeper and 
 deeper draughts of that most intoxicating 
 of beverages first love ! 
 
 Nothing hitherto had come to mar 
 his happiness. Lady Brand, whom he 
 called " aunt," received him always with 
 the tenderest affection ; Lou, the elder 
 of the two girls, was his warm friend, 
 and even the stiff colonel made him 
 stately bows, and overwhelmed him with 
 distinguished consideration for the colo 
 nel was given to "deportment." 
 
 Of Honoria s feelings, the narrative 
 will present a fuller view than is here 
 possible. A few words more will con 
 vey a correct conception of Innis s situa 
 tion and plans when our history com 
 mences. 
 
 He was twenty -three passionately 
 in love with his cousin, the daughter of 
 a gentleman of large wealth poor, and 
 doing nothing. At that thought the 
 very soul of Innis revolted within him. 
 He thought with bitterness of his prob 
 able future of visiting Rivanna thus, 
 year after year, in the character of a 
 "poor relation" of one day seeing 
 Honoria give her hand to some glit 
 tering youth, forgetting him ; and of 
 growing old, uncared for, and forgotten 
 in his lonely lodge, buried in its lugubri 
 ous pines. That thought had come day 
 after day to cut Innis like a sharp blade 
 to the very heart. His once ruddy cheek 
 grew pale with bitter meditation. With 
 the prejudice of race, at that time preva 
 lent, he shrank from trade he had no 
 means to enter the professions what 
 was left him but to mope and dream, 
 growing gray and sombre in his sombre 
 dwelling bending lower year by year 
 beneath the inexorable weight which 
 bows the strongest shoulders toward the 
 tomb ? 
 
 These thoughts preyed upon him, as 
 the worm preys on the bud, and his 
 
 cheeks grew so pale that Lady Brand 
 said one day : 
 
 " You are pining, Edmund ; what is 
 the reason ? " 
 
 " I am twenty-three, and am doing 
 nothing, aunt." 
 
 " Well, why remain idle ? " 
 
 " What can I do ? " 
 
 "Make yourself the first counsellor 
 in the colony you have the intellect." 
 
 Innis felt his pulse throb. Then his 
 head sunk. 
 
 "I cannot, aunt. I have no means to 
 study." 
 
 Lady Brand smiled. 
 
 " Listen, Edmund : my connection, 
 Mr. Wythe, at William sburg, wishes a 
 young gentleman in his office ; he is 
 growing old, and requires assistance in 
 transcribing his law -papers. He will 
 receive you into his house as one of the 
 family gladly, in return for your services, 
 and instruct you in law besides " 
 
 11 Me, aunt?" 
 
 " I say you, my child, because he of 
 fers to do so in this letter." 
 
 She looked at him with her kind 
 eyes and smile, holding toward him the 
 letter. 
 
 " Why should I not scheme to set my 
 boy up in the world, like other people ? " 
 
 Innis had his arms around her, ere 
 she had finished, and kissed her. 
 
 " Dear aunt ! you are very good to 
 me!" 
 
 " Don t thank me for only doing my 
 duty, Edmund. And now, I think it 
 best that you should go and see Mr. 
 Wythe." 
 
 " I will set out to-morrow, aunt. Oh, 
 I assure you, I am not disposed to de 
 lay." 
 
 " I will give you an early breakfast, 
 then, my son ; and may God guide you ! " 
 
 On the very next day Innis was, ac 
 cordingly, on his way to Williamsburg, 
 which he reached in due time. The ven 
 erable Mr. Wythe greeted him cordially. 
 It was arranged that he should come to 
 
28 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 live in his office on the first of the ensu 
 ing January, and Innis returned, as the 
 reader has seen. 
 
 TVhat befell him in Williamsburg has 
 been recorded ; what occurred on his re 
 turn will now be related. 
 
 XII. 
 
 AT EIV ANITA. 
 
 COLONEL BRAND was seated in his 
 large arm-chair of carved oak, with Span 
 ish-leather covering a tall and portly in 
 dividual, ruddy of face from high living, 
 with gray side-whiskers, and formal air, 
 and clad in imposing costume. His face 
 and bearing said : " I am the lord of the 
 manor ; you common people will be good 
 enough to bow down to me! " Pie even 
 held the number of the Virginia Gazette 
 which he was reading with a stately air, 
 as of a superior mortal, who performed 
 an act of condescension in perusing what 
 common people had written. 
 
 Innis entered, and, approaching, 
 bowed to the colonel, who rose slowly 
 for it was a part of his social philoso 
 phy never to omit any form of courtesy 
 and grandly held out two fingers. In 
 nis took them ; the colonel submitted to 
 the ceremony without responding in any 
 manner to the pressure bestowed upon 
 the two digits ; and then came, in stiff 
 and formal tones : 
 
 "You have just returned from the 
 capital, I believe?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Innis, taking the 
 seat which the colonel indicated with a 
 stately wave of the hand. 
 "Hum! " 
 
 The colonel cleared his throat in a 
 formal manner, and resumed his seat. 
 
 " Perhaps you bring some intelligence 
 of interest," he said, raising his chin, 
 and slowly passing his jewelled hand be 
 neath that portion of his person. 
 
 "Scarcely any thing, sir," replied In 
 nis; " my stay, as you know, was brief." 
 
 Colonel Brand made an inclination 
 with his head, as though to protest 
 against being supposed to remember, or 
 be aware of, a fact so very unimportant 
 as the duration of the young man s ab 
 sence. 
 
 " His excellency is well, I trust ? " 
 " I believe so, sir." 
 " You saw him ? " 
 
 "I did not, sir, except -when he was 
 passing to his coach one day." 
 
 "I have the honor to enjoy his lord 
 ship s acquaintance. You saw none of 
 the council or his excellency s suite? " 
 
 " Yes, sir I chanced to make the ac 
 quaintance of Lord Ruthven, his secre 
 tary." 
 
 " Lord Ruth ven ?" 
 "Yes, sir; a nobleman from Scot 
 land, I believe." 
 
 The colonel seemed suddenly inter 
 ested. 
 
 " A gentleman of let me see hum ! 
 from sixty-five to seventy ? " 
 
 " Scarce as old as forty, I think, sir." 
 " Then tis not my Lord Ruthvcn of 
 Perthshire." 
 
 " You knew his lordship, sir? " 
 " Well indeed hum ! I may speak 
 of his lordship as my personal friend, 
 and I possess and highly value a portrait 
 of him which I have his own gift." 
 
 " The Lord Ruthven of his excellen 
 cy s suite may be the elder nobleman s 
 son." 
 
 " True ; what is his personal appear 
 ance ? " 
 
 " Very pale, with black hair and eyes, 
 and of grave demeanor." 
 
 " The same ; no doubt tis the son of 
 the elder lord, who may have died re 
 cently." 
 
 Innis looked around for the portrait 
 of the elder Lord Ruthven ; it was no 
 where to be seen. 
 
 Colonel Brand seemed to have dis 
 missed the subject. "With imposing grav 
 ity he began : 
 
 "The intelligence from England, I 
 
AT RIVANNA. 
 
 29 
 
 perceive, sir hum ! " when, unfortu 
 nately for his stately discourse, the 
 breakfast-bell rang ; and, rising, the colo 
 nel approached the door, and, moving 
 slightly aside, waved his hand for Innis 
 to precede him. 
 
 " After you, sir," said the youth, 
 courteously. 
 
 " I beg you will proceed, sir," said 
 the colonel, with stately condescension. 
 
 Innis smiled and obeyed. They en 
 tered the breakfast-room, and a tall, 
 elderly lady, very graceful and attractive 
 still, came from behind the urn, and, put 
 ting her arms around the youth, kissed 
 him affectionately. 
 
 Then Miss Lou Brand, tall like her 
 mother, with dancing, hazel eyes, a su 
 perb complexion, dazzling teeth between 
 rosy lips, and an air of gayety, mischief, 
 and abandon, came and greeted him 
 warmly. Honoria entered and took her 
 place, and breakfast proceeded. 
 
 " Where is Meta, aunt ? " said Innis 
 to Lady Brand. 
 
 " I have no idea, Edmund ; not mak 
 ing her toilet, for she is an earlier riser 
 than any one in the household." 
 
 " I fancied I saw her at one of the 
 windows as I came up the hill." 
 
 A species of inarticulate murmur was 
 heard behind the youth ; he turned quick 
 ly. On the threshold of the apartment 
 stood a singular figure. 
 
 The new-comer was a girl, apparent 
 ly about fifteen, of very extraordinary 
 beauty, but with something wild and 
 elfish in her appearance. She wore a 
 dress of the most brilliant and variegated 
 colors, and superb dark hair fell in huge 
 masses of curls upon both shoulders. 
 Her eyes were dark, subtile, and penetrat 
 ing, and were fixed intently upon Innis. 
 
 He rose quickly, and went and held 
 out his hand, with a smile, saying : 
 
 "How do you do, Meta?" 
 
 The girl coldly refused the hand, and, 
 without uttering a sound, went to her 
 place at the table. 
 
 " Something has offended Meta," said 
 Lady Brand, in a low tone. " Do not 
 take any notice of her, Edmund ; it is 
 the best way." 
 
 The youth resumed his seat ; break 
 fast went upon its way ; the stately lord 
 of the manor rose and returned to the 
 library ; and an hour afterward Innis 
 was seated in his aunt s chamber, inform 
 ing her of the fortunate results of his 
 journey. He had made every arrange 
 ment to enter Mr. Wythe s office on the 
 first of January. 
 
 " Heaven be thanked that you have 
 been so fortunate, my son ! " said the 
 worthy lady, busily knitting in her great 
 chair ; for, like a good Virginia housewife, 
 she would never remain idle. " ISTow your 
 career in life is open to you. By assidu 
 ous study you may become, not only 
 prosperous but distinguished ; and your 
 old aunt will be as happy as yourself." 
 
 " Dear aunt," said the youth, warm 
 ly, " how good you are to me ! One 
 would really suppose that I was some 
 body." 
 
 " You are of our blood, and that is 
 very good blood, too, Edmund." 
 
 " But I am very poor." 
 
 " That is of all human things the 
 least important to a young man it is a 
 spur to exertion." 
 
 " But, in case I were to fall in love 
 aunt ? " 
 
 " Do not do so yet, Edmund. There 
 is time enough for that, as my friend 
 Mrs. Gary is always telling Phil." 
 
 Innis sighed. 
 
 " I suppose you are right, aunt ; but, 
 in case I were to find my affections en 
 gaged to love some one then poverty 
 would be a serious bar, I fear." 
 
 "Why should it, if you are energetic 
 and make your way? Two sorts of 
 wealth exist in this world, Edmund 
 property and intellect. If your intellect 
 brings you revenue, is it not as valuable 
 as landed estate, which can do no more ? " 
 
 " The land is much more certain, 
 
30 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 aunt ; but we are wandering very far. 
 You see I am quite fortunate now, and, 
 thanks to you, have something to look 
 forward to. Let me tell you of my ad 
 ventures." 
 
 And Innis related the incidents con 
 nected with Lord Ruthven, suppressing, 
 however, as he had promised, all allu 
 sion to the singular words of the noble 
 man. 
 
 " That was unfortunate, Edmund, but 
 in this world we must not regret too 
 strongly what we cannot help. You 
 had no intention to injure Lord Ruth 
 ven, and, fortunately, he has recovered. 
 These accidents are sometimes truly un 
 happy. Meta, you know, owes her loss 
 of reason to a similar fall." 
 14 Is it possible, aunt ? " 
 44 Did you not know it ? " 
 44 Strangely enough, I did not." 
 41 We rarely allude to it, and never in 
 her presence, as it agitates her frightful 
 ly. Meta, you know, is the only daughter 
 of a cousin of my uncle, Colonel Seaton. 
 Her father and mother are both dead, 
 and \ve have only done our duty in tak 
 ing the poor orphan to our arms. She 
 came to us in her present condition- 
 dumb and bereft of sense. When about 
 ten years of age, she one day mounted a 
 spirited young horse ; the animal ran 
 away and threw her to the ground, and 
 in fulling her head struck a sharp stone, 
 which, it is supposed, drove a portion of 
 bone in upon her brain. When she re 
 covered from her fall the poor child had 
 lost her reason. Truly, the ways of 
 Providence are past finding out. And 
 now don t let me detain you, Edmund. 
 Old people must not monopolize young 
 people ; and yonder comes Philip Gary, 
 a great rattle-trap, but a young man for 
 whom I have much regard. Come back 
 during the evening I like to see as much 
 of my boy as I can. You know we must 
 soon part." 
 
 XIII. 
 
 THE PORTKAIT. 
 
 REPLYING- to this speech of the good 
 lady by an affectionate glance, Innis 
 rose, left the chamber, and went tow 
 ard the staircase leading to the lower 
 floor. 
 
 As he did so, he perceived that the 
 door of a small apartment, the private 
 dressing-room of Colonel Brand, which 
 few persons ever entered, was half open. 
 Glancing idly through the opening, he 
 found his attention suddenly arrested by 
 a portrait on the opposite wall. 
 
 This portrait was the most perfect, 
 the most astonishing likeness of the Lord 
 Ruthven of Williamsburg : the pale face, 
 with its black hair and eyes, seemed 
 starting from the canvas, and about to 
 speak to him. 
 
 Innis advanced a step, and looked 
 long and intently at the picture. 
 
 44 The very face ! " he said. 
 
 And, returning to Lady Brand s cham 
 ber, he said : 
 
 44 Aunt, whose portrait hangs in the 
 dressing-room ? " 
 
 4; That with the white face and black 
 locks, Edmund?" 
 
 44 Yes, aunt." 
 
 44 Tis the picture of Lord Ruthven, 
 of Scotland, a former friend of Colonel 
 Brand s." 
 
 44 Strange that I never before saw it." 
 
 44 And yet the explanation is simple, 
 my son. The portrait originally hung in 
 the hall down-stairs, but the face gave 
 me a chill." 
 
 44 A chill ? " 
 
 44 It seemed to haunt me, with its 
 deep, dark, melancholy eyes its ghostly 
 stare. So I begged Colonel Brand to re 
 move it ; he complied with my request, 
 and it hangs now, you see, in his private 
 apartment." 
 
 Innis nodded. 
 
 44 It has had a strange effect upon me 
 too, aunt. The resemblance is striking 
 
META. 
 
 31 
 
 to the Lord Ruthven I met with in Wil- 
 Harnsburg." 
 
 "Ah, indeed?" 
 
 " Yes aunt the same haunting ex 
 pression in the eyes of the portrait is 
 reproduced in the eyes of the son." 
 
 " The son ? " 
 
 "Doubtless, my Williamsburg ac 
 quaintance is a son of the elder lord." 
 
 "Yes, yes that explains the like 
 ness. These resemblances of father and 
 son are sometimes truly extraordinary. 
 I remember, when young Mr. Harrison 
 came to see us, I was so much astonished 
 by his likeness to his father " 
 
 And Lady Brand plunged into a 
 story, all about young Mr. Harrison, his 
 father, who had once been a very inti 
 mate friend of hers, and other persons 
 connected with them. 
 
 We shall not inflict the good lady s 
 reminiscences upon the reader. When 
 the narrative was concluded, Innis rose, 
 left the apartment, stopped again in 
 front of Colonel Brand s dressing-room, 
 to look, at the portrait, and then went 
 down the stairs, murmuring: 
 
 " I could swear that this was my 
 Lord Ruthven or his ghost! " 
 
 XIV. 
 
 META. 
 
 INNIS found his friend Phil Gary up 
 on the portico, engaged in a word-com 
 bat with his intimate enemy, Miss Lou 
 Brand, between whom and himself ex 
 isted relations of permanent hostility 
 or very great liking it was difficult to 
 say which. 
 
 They certainly struck fire, like steel 
 and flint, whenever they met ; but then 
 they apparently could not remain away 
 from each other ; gravitated as it were 
 together ; and were much too aggressive 
 and provoking to be indifferent. 
 
 That excellent class of persons who 
 take charge of the affairs of their neigh 
 
 borhoods, said that Miss Lou Brand was 
 extremely fond of Mr. Phil Gary, but 
 had confidentially announced, in the 
 secrecy of female friendship, that she in 
 tended to "give him a lesson." Mr. Phil 
 Gary, on the other hand, was said to bo 
 aware of this dire resolve on the part 
 of his enemy, and to shape his course 
 with great skill in accordance therewith 
 proceeding in his attentions just far 
 enough to provoke and tantalize Miss 
 Brand, but carefully refraining, with 
 covert enjoyment of the joke, from an 
 avowal. Such were the relations of the 
 young people circumstances would 
 doubtless determine the result ; mean 
 while, they laughed at each other, held 
 each other up to ridicule, and invariably- 
 sought out each other in society. 
 
 Innis smiled as he passed them, and, 
 inviting his friend to come and see him, 
 mounted his horse. 
 
 "Remember the party on Wednes 
 day! " Miss Lou called out. 
 
 "The party?" said Innis. 
 
 " Haven t you heard of it ? We ex 
 pect to have half a dozen girls ; they 
 will stay for a week, and we intend to 
 turn night into day ! it will be delight 
 ful!" 
 
 " Turning night into day? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ! why not ? Day is so 
 stupid." 
 
 " And then the fairer portion of 
 creation look so much better by lamp 
 light," said Mr. Gary, meekly. 
 
 The young lady turned upon him 
 instantly. 
 
 "Why should not girls turn night into 
 day, if they fancy ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " echoed Mr. Phil Gary 
 " they do nothing." 
 
 " They sew, sir ! and that is better 
 than passing the time in idleness, or 
 eternally hunting, hunting, as is the 
 practice of some people." 
 
 A Do you really sew ? " said Mr. Gary, 
 with interest. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; as your lordship is aware, 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 we are the weaker species of vessels, 
 and" 
 
 " Yes, yes, I had lost sight of that," 
 interrupted Mr. Phil Gary ; " you there 
 fore sew, and am I wrong in supposing 
 that you occasionally talk ? " 
 
 " Wearisome ! " 
 
 And, turning her back on Mr. Gary, 
 Miss Brand returned Innis s bow, and 
 said : 
 
 "Be sure to come on Wednesday, 
 and stay for a week at least, Edmund. 
 We intend to have a charming time, and 
 to eat the dumb-cake" 
 
 "What is that, cousin?" 
 
 "A secret." 
 
 A smothered laugh behind the young 
 lady excited her sudden indignation. 
 
 "I don t believe there is any secret," 
 said Phil Gary, with much frankness; 
 " women never keep secrets." 
 
 What followed this renewal of the 
 assault, Innis did not observe; he left 
 the foes in the midst of their alterca 
 tion, and rode down the hill. As he 
 went along slowly, his lips wore a faint 
 smile, and his face was a little flushed. 
 He was thinking of Honoria. In his 
 absence, she had grown dearer far to 
 him than before. Now, he would see 
 her again for a few weeks then he 
 would leave her ; time, change, vicissi 
 tude, would work their will on each. 
 When should he see her again, if he ever 
 saw her ? 
 
 The young man was going along, 
 buried in these thoughts, his eyes fixed 
 upon the ground, when suddenly his 
 horse shied so violently that he was 
 nearly unseated. 
 
 The origin of this fright on the part 
 of the animal was the occurrence of a 
 very singular incident. From the great 
 oak, beneath which he had been passing, 
 had suddenly fallen, within five paces, 
 the figure of the girl Meta. A sort of 
 rustic bower in this great, wide-armed- 
 tree, was indeed a favorite haunt of the 
 elf -like maiden; her singular agility 
 
 enabled her to mount without difficulty 
 to her hiding-place ; and here, cradled 
 in foliage, she would spend hour after 
 hour, gazing at the sky, the passing 
 clouds, listening to the twitter of the 
 birds amid the leaves, or baring her 
 brow to the cooling breeze. As Innis 
 passed, she had swung from a drooping 
 bough, falling as lightly as a cat to the 
 turf beneath, and now stood looking at 
 him with her singularly-piercing eyes 
 framed in the masses of black curls 
 descending to and nearly covering her 
 shoulders. 
 
 The expression of the beautiful face 
 was strange. Anger, regret, tenderness 
 all passed in turn over the telltale 
 countenance, which at certain moments 
 reflected what was passing in Meta s 
 breast so plainly that words were un 
 necessary. Words, indeed, the girl had 
 none. Bereft alike of speech and reason, 
 this poor girl was nearly cut off by her 
 misfortune from all the life around her. 
 She had succeeded, however, in making 
 for herself a species of language of signs 
 and gestures Innis understood in a 
 measure these signs and, as the girl 
 now began to gesticulate with singular 
 energy, he understood that she was ex 
 pressing regret for her cold reception of 
 him upon his arrival. 
 
 Innis looked at the young face, filled 
 with its conflicting emotions, and an ex 
 pression of pitying kindness came to his 
 own. 
 
 " It was nothing, Meta," he said ; " I 
 was a little surprised, tis true. I am 
 not hurt, however, and will not even 
 ask you why you thus received me. I 
 am sure of your affection for me, and 
 you know my affection for you." 
 
 The head sank quickly, and tears 
 came to the girl s eyes. She uttered 
 some inarticulate sounds, blushed, trem 
 bled, then with a quick movement seized 
 the young man s hand and kissed it. 
 
 A few moments afterward she had 
 disappeared, running with inconceivable 
 
TWO PICTURES. 
 
 33 
 
 rapidity into the deepest shades of the 
 park. 
 
 Innis looked after her, shook his head 
 with a pitying sigh, and rode on. 
 
 XV. 
 
 TWO PICTUEES. 
 
 A BIDE of a few miles brought Innis 
 to his little hunting-lodge, perched on a 
 knoll in a gash of the mountain, and 
 overshadowed hy haughty pines. 
 
 An old man-servant, bowed down 
 with age, came with a pleasant smile to 
 greet him, and take his horse. Some 
 kind words, indicative of affection on 
 the part of each for the other, were ex 
 changed ; and Innis entered the little 
 dwelling, where a bright fire burned 
 upon the hearth, sat down, opened a 
 book, and appeared to be reading. In a 
 few moments the book sank on his knee, 
 his eyes were fixed upon the fire, and his 
 thoughts flew far away from his little 
 mountain-lodge to the lowland and Ho- 
 noria. 
 
 He approached now a crisis in his life, 
 when, perhaps, a few months would de 
 cide his future. Could he make some 
 thing of himself, or was he doomed to 
 vegetate thus forever in obscurity ? No ! 
 He would not rust away thus, his fresh 
 years fading to the yellow leaf alone, 
 unknown, a mere atom, and even of less 
 importance than an atom in the universe. 
 
 "No," he said, finally, gazing around 
 him at the small apartment, with its plain, 
 almost rude appurtenances, which the 
 firelight fell upon. " No, I cannot live 
 here forever, with no one to love me, a 
 mere nobody in the world. I will study, 
 work, make something of myself. I 
 may succeed as others have succeeded 
 rise in the profession of the law three 
 or four years hence I may go to the 
 House of Burgesses she will then be 
 scarcely more than twenty and " 
 
 With this "and" he stopped. A 
 
 blush covered the youth s cheeks, and 
 his head sank. Falling into reverie 
 again, he fixed his eyes upon the fire, 
 and remained silent. Was his imagina 
 tion painting some brilliant future the 
 picture of himself, prominent, wealthy, 
 honored, and married to Honoria ? 
 
 "In three or four years," he mur 
 mured" that is not so long then then 
 who knows ? " 
 
 The old, old story ! the tale that is 
 told of all the generations of humanity ! 
 
 And at that very moment, Ilonoria, 
 leaning her forehead on her hand, and 
 looking out into the fine October night, 
 was thinking of him. He was her young 
 hero the beloved of her fresh young 
 heart. To Edmund Innis all her thoughts 
 flowed, and her meditations were filled 
 with bitter pleasure a species of deli 
 cious pain. 
 
 For Honoria, too, realized that the 
 hour approached when her relations with 
 Innis must undergo a change. What is 
 it that one day suddenly tells the maiden 
 of seventeen that the youth who has 
 hitherto been to her but a cousin and 
 favorite playmate, has become a lover? 
 Then the old world of cousinship is dead, 
 the new world of first love appears, all 
 flowers, and sunshine, where the happy 
 breezes whisper their exquisite secrets. 
 It was plain to Honoria, as she sat sunk 
 in reverie, with blushing cheeks, that 
 Edmund was beginning to love her. 
 Ilis glance had revealed all, and she must 
 take care how she treated him hence 
 forth. 
 
 She did not love him ! Oh ! no, no! 
 and the fact seemed very sorrowful, 
 for Honoria uttered a piteous sigh. She 
 loved him, of course, as her cousin, dear 
 ly ves , very dearly and why should 
 she not? It was natural. lie was so 
 kind and generous and noble ! So free 
 from any thing mean or little. This was 
 the origin of her liking. The fact that 
 he was extremely handsome, the most 
 graceful and elegant of all the gentlemen 
 
34 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 of her acquaintance tins had no weight 
 with her, not the least! She loved him 
 yes ! she did love him as her cousin 
 for his goodness of heart ; and she 
 must he cold, indeed, not to do so but 
 that was all ! He was simply a favor 
 ite cousin, and he was falling in love 
 with her ! 
 
 What should she do ? Permit him to 
 deceive himself, perhaps, and grow un 
 happy? Oh, no! If she loved him as 
 her friend and cousin, she should show it 
 now by refraining from her former marks 
 of affection, and discouraging him on 
 the threshold. Yes, that was her bound- 
 en duty she would resolutely perform 
 it ; and, having come to this resolution, 
 Honoria sighed profoundly. 
 
 All at once a quick blush rushed to 
 her cheeks, and tears overflowed her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Edmund would never be so unjust," 
 she murmured. 
 
 The quick thought had come to her 
 that the young man might attribute her 
 sudden coolness to the difference in point 
 of wealth to his poverty. His poverty ! 
 As if that could make any difference 
 with her! She loved him a thousand 
 times more for his poverty. The noblest 
 men of history had been proud to be 
 poor ; and had found in high thoughts, 
 the affections of the he.irt, and honora 
 ble toil, the noblest source of happiness. 
 Edmund Innis might be poor in worldly 
 goods, but he was rich in all else in 
 truth, honor, grace, sweetness, whatever 
 best became a gentleman ! His very 
 worn and discolored coat became him 
 better than the silks and velvets of 
 others. His hat might be frayed and 
 old, but when he bowed before a lady it 
 was like a prince s coronet. And even 
 his poverty was only a fancy. Why 
 was not his small house as desirable as 
 "Blenheim " or " Rivanna? " Why think 
 that splendor and imposing luxury are 
 desirable in this world ? It was very 
 pretty, this little lodge, perched on its 
 
 knoll beneath the great pines. The 
 proudest girl in all Virginia might be 
 happy to live there with Edmund! 
 
 A quick, guilty blush came to the 
 cheeks of the girl. Her reverie had led 
 her to a point where suddenly she re 
 coiled. 
 
 " No, no ! " she murmured ; " I did 
 not mean that ! I was dreaming day 
 dreams fancies I am very foolish. Ed 
 mund is nothing to me ; and my pride, 
 perhaps, makes me think I am aught to 
 him. I hope I am not 
 
 A piteous sigh whispered through the 
 words. 
 
 " I am mistaken, I suppose ; and even 
 if poor fellow ! how could I bear it his 
 distress? But the young girls ,jn Wil- 
 liamsburg are very beautiful, they say. 
 If he loves me, I hope he will soon find 
 one who will make him forget me. That 
 would make me very, very happy ! " 
 
 And leaning her forehead on the win 
 dow-sill, Honoria uttered a low sob. 
 
 The old, old story! The tale that is 
 told of all the generations of humanity ! 
 
 XYI. 
 
 TWO HEARTS. 
 
 FEOM his lonely mountain - lodge, 
 where no sound disturbed the silence 
 but the low murmur of the great pines, 
 Innis passed to the stately halls of " Ri 
 vanna," where a party of youths and 
 maidens filled the days and nights with 
 uproar, revelry, and laughter. 
 
 He was warmly welcomed by the 
 young ladies and the gallants, assembled 
 at the hospitable mansion then he 
 looked for Honoria. 
 
 The young lady was not visible. The 
 result of that sorrowful reverie, which 
 we have partially described, had been 
 that Honoria had resolved not to encour 
 age the youth ; that is, to receive him, 
 if she received him at all, with some 
 thing less than ordinary politeness ; and, 
 
TWO HEARTS. 
 
 35 
 
 by way of inaugurating this auspicious 
 programme, she did not -leave her apart 
 ment, although rshe saw him plainly as 
 he came up the hill. 
 
 Innis acted with decision or he was 
 fortunate. Having spoken to his friends, 
 he went straight to Lady Brand s cham 
 ber, and thore he found Honoria. 
 
 As he entered, the girl s face flushed, 
 and her lip quivered. Then she sup 
 pressed these evidences of emotion; 
 raised her head with stately politeness, 
 and bowed to him with common cour 
 tesy nothing more. 
 
 This reception struck Tnnis like a 
 blow. He became crimson, bowed low, 
 and then stood in an attitude almost 
 haughty before the girl, not uttering a 
 word. 
 
 Lady Brand looked at them in per 
 fect bewilderment. 
 
 "Why, what is the matter with you, 
 Honoria; and with you, Edmund? " she 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " Nothing, mamma," said Honoria, 
 in a trembling voice. 
 
 "Nothing, aunt," repeated Innis. 
 
 " But something is the matter," con 
 tinued Lady Brand. " I insist upon an 
 explanation. These misunderstandings 
 are perfectly absurd; why do not people 
 go and have an explanation at once, 
 when they fall out ? What is it, Hono 
 ria?" 
 
 " Don t ask me, mamma ! " exclaimed 
 Honoria, suppressing with the utmost 
 difficulty a burst of tears. " I have no 
 explanation to make ; no fault to find 
 with anybody ! " 
 
 And, rising quickly, she hurried from 
 the apartment. 
 
 "What is the matter, Edmund?" 
 asked Lady Brand, profoundly mystified. 
 
 " I do not know, aunt," said Innis, 
 calmly; "you know that young ladies 
 are subject to nervous fancies Honoria 
 will soon recover; I think I shall go 
 down now, and pay my respects to the 
 company." 
 
 He turned away as he spoke, de 
 scended to the drawing-room, and, retir 
 ing to a shaded recess, leaned upon the 
 window-sill, and surrendered himself to 
 bitter meditation. 
 
 He was thus engaged when he heard 
 a step at the door of the apartment, and 
 the ear of the lover told him that it was 
 Honoria s. A moment afterward, he 
 heard her gay voice as she addressed the 
 gentlemen ; there was no agitation what 
 ever in its tones : Innis had to deal with 
 a woman perfect in all the lessons of her 
 sex. 
 
 He did not turn, until, as the party 
 of youths and young ladies were going 
 to stroll on the lawn, Phil Gary cried 
 out: 
 
 "Wake up there, old fellow, and 
 come and walk ! " 
 
 Innis shook his head. 
 
 " That will never do, Mr. Innis ! " 
 exclaimed an impulsive young lady, the 
 " romp " of the party ; " come this mo 
 ment and walk with me, sir ! " 
 
 Refusal was no longer possible. With 
 an internal opinion of the damsel which 
 would by no means have flattered her 
 amour-propre, he rose, offered his arm, 
 and, a moment afterward, the "romp" 
 had seized the arm of Honoria, dragging 
 both Innis and the latter forth beneath 
 the great oaks. 
 
 Much injustice is done the class of 
 young ladies called "romps; " what they 
 lack in ceremony they make up often in 
 warmth of heart. This one saw that 
 Innis had no eyes for any one but Hono 
 ria; she brought them together; then 
 she heard some one call her, or pre 
 tended to hear, and quietly retired, smil 
 ing sweetly upon the young man, who 
 was thus left with Honoria. 
 
 For some moments it seemed that 
 this good fortune would have no results. 
 Innis found himself walking beside a 
 maiden who blushed a little, but exhibit 
 ed no other indication of emotion ; one 
 who was determined to converse upon 
 
36 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 the subject of the weather, and explain 
 nothing. 
 
 For nearly an hour he tried vainly 
 to direct the conversation to this topic 
 the alteration in the young lady s de 
 meanor. She incessantly evaded the 
 subject; foiled him at every turn; and 
 preserved her self-possession. 
 
 Iimis stopped, raised his eyes from 
 the ground upon which they had been 
 fixed, and for a moment gazed with a 
 long and searching look upon the 
 girl. 
 
 "So be it, Honoria," he said, with 
 sorrowful composure, and an accent both 
 of grief and pride ; " my pains, I see, are 
 thrown away. You avoid uttering the 
 few simple words I wish to hear. You 
 are changed to me." 
 
 He could not suppress a species of 
 groan. It was hard to feel hope leaving 
 him. 
 
 " I thought you had some affection 
 for me, once. Had you not ? But we 
 will not speak of that. Do not reply. 
 You had this affection, and are altered 
 to me, refusing to explain why ; or you 
 had none, and do not feign. So be it, 
 once more. You shall not be annoyed 
 by my wretched importunity by this 
 love yes, love ! which wellnigh un 
 mans me. Oh, it is hard ! very hard 
 to Your gay company shall not be 
 made gloomy by my miserable face. I 
 will go in an hour I shall leave Rivanna 
 and forever ! " 
 
 She raised her head with a startled 
 look, and gazed at him. Her cheeks 
 were pale, and her eyes swam in sudden 
 tears. 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! " she exclaimed, im 
 pulsively, " you must not go ! " 
 
 A guilty blush instantly drove away 
 the pallor of her cheeks. 
 
 kk That is to say I mean " 
 
 There the low voice died away, and 
 a sob issued from the trembling lips. A 
 moment had reversed every thing. It 
 was Honoria who pleaded Innis who 
 
 was calm. His pride had come to his 
 
 assistance. 
 
 " You are cold to me, or angry with 
 me," he said, in a firm voice ; " what 
 course therefore remains for me, but 
 to" 
 
 "No, no not cold not angry!" 
 She placed her handkerchief to her eyes, 
 and murmured: " But it is best that we 
 should not " The words ended in an 
 other sob. 
 
 "Should not what?" exclaimed the 
 youth, seizing her hand ; " speak, Hono 
 ria ! What mystery is this ? You can trust 
 me, can you not ? You loved me a lit 
 tle, once did you not as your poor 
 cousin, at least ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes ! Heaven is my witness 
 faithfully and I act now from affec 
 tion for you ! " 
 
 The words were uttered in a broken 
 and trembling voice. Honoria leaned 
 against the trunk of the oak, beneath 
 which they stood apart from the gay 
 groups, and her whole frame was con 
 vulsed. 
 
 Innis pressed the hand which he still 
 held, with vehemence, and exclaimed : 
 
 " Speak, Honoria ! what means this ? 
 You act thus from affection f " 
 
 "Oh, yes!" 
 
 " That prompts you to treat me thus 
 coldly ? " 
 
 "Yes! " 
 
 The youth was silent for a moment, 
 lost in wonder; then his face grew sud 
 denly pale, and an expression of intense 
 bitterness came to his lips. He dropped 
 the hand of the girl. 
 
 "I now understand !" he said, rais 
 ing his head with cold pride. 
 
 " You understand ? " 
 
 "Yes," he said; "yes, there is no 
 longer any mystery to solve, Honoria. 
 You are a woman one of the best of 
 them but, after all, you are a woman." 
 
 He looked at her coldly and mourn 
 fully. 
 
 " You have reflected upon the differ- 
 
TWO HEARTS. 
 
 ence of our conditions, 1 " he went on; 
 " you have realized how broad a gulf 
 separates the poor young man, obscure, 
 and alone in the world, where he is 
 nothing, from the beautiful young heiress 
 whom all conspire to flatter " 
 
 "Edmund!" she exclaimed, wildly, 
 " oh, you must not, shall not " 
 
 " Alas ! " he said, with the same 
 proud sorrow in voice and countenance, 
 " it is true too true ! I can understand 
 that good-breeding prompts you to deny 
 the charge ; it is possible, even, that you 
 are unwilling to wound your poor cousin 
 your friend and playmate who has 
 loved you so long and faithfully ! " 
 
 " Edmund, Edmund ! " she exclaimed, 
 "this is ungenerous cruel, terrible in 
 justice ! " 
 
 He shook his head slowly. 
 
 "I would not be cruel alas! I can 
 not. It is the woful truth, which I 
 have the courage to tell you, because I 
 am about to leave you, and my heart is 
 breaking ! You have found at last, my 
 poor darling let me call you so, it is the 
 first time and the last time you have 
 found that the present cannot be like the 
 past, because the world has its claims 
 upon you. You were Honoria once 
 now you find that you are Miss Brand of 
 Rivanna, and must be governed by your 
 station and, what right have I to blame 
 you? I am so wretched, that I could 
 not have the heart to inflict upon my 
 worst enemy the agony I feel ; but I 
 have no anger now. I shall go back to 
 my poor house yonder, and endeavor to 
 forget you try to remember you only 
 to pray Heaven to bless you ; but now, 
 before we part, I will say what has been 
 my feeling for months, for years. I love 
 you, Honoria! I love you, neither as 
 friend nor cousin, but with man s love 
 for woman! I love you! Oh! that 
 does not express my thought ! The very 
 ground your feet pressed has been dear 
 to me. Your glove, your handkerchief, 
 the simplest object you have touched, 
 
 has been precious to me. I have loved 
 you ! loved you day and night waking 
 and in dreams in my joy and my sor 
 row you were my only solace ! You 
 took the place of father, mother, sister, 
 and brother ; I was a poor, lonely orphan, 
 but your love was enough. You were 
 my all the light of my poor life, the 
 pride and joy of a heart that centred 
 all in you ! I lived for you I would 
 have died for you! That is my last 
 word farewell! " 
 
 He held out his hand, but suddenly the 
 girl tottered ; her head fell languidly tow 
 ard one shoulder ; and, had not Innis sup 
 ported her, she would have fallen. Over 
 come by the long and passionate conflict, 
 the poor heart taxed beyond its strength, 
 Honoria had fainted. 
 
 Innis looked around no one was 
 near, to render assistance. Within 
 twenty paces, a little stream, gushing 
 from a rock, ran between grassy banks. 
 Innis bore the girl to the stream, and a 
 handful of the cool water speedily re 
 vived her. 
 
 As she opened her eyes, he withdrew 
 his arm, but suddenly she clung to him. 
 
 " Oh no, no ! do not leave me ! " she 
 exclaimed. "Oh, do not go, Edmund! 
 I too have loved you loved you 
 dearly!" 
 
 And, as though the avowal had ex 
 hausted her strength, Honoria s head 
 sank on his breast ; she- hid lu-r blushing 
 cheeks, and shook with a vague, delicious 
 tremor in her true-love s arms. 
 
 When she looked up at him, the 
 young face was full of tears and blushes, 
 but a smile shone there, like April sun 
 shine. 
 
 The wind laughed above them, in the 
 mighty oak ; the little stream ran glee 
 fully between its grassy margins ; the 
 birds sang for them ; the white clouds 
 floated they were young, they hnvd, 
 and were triumphant over fate; for, 
 whatever the hard hours bring, two 
 hearts that love are the victors. 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 
 
 THE two fond hearts thus beat to 
 gether ; each pressed to each but, alas ! 
 it was more than probable that a stern 
 hand, that of no less a personage than 
 the resolute Colonel Brand, would thrust 
 them asunder. 
 
 Innis felt a chill invade his heart. 
 What possibility could there be of gain 
 ing the colonel s consent to his union with 
 Honoria? She was his favorite daugh 
 ter, his darling and pride; she would 
 inherit from him princely possessions ; 
 would he ever permit her to unite her 
 fortunes to those of the poor youth, 
 when she might command the homage 
 of the proudest and wealthiest in the 
 land ? 
 
 These questions came to the youthful 
 heart, still trembling and agitated from 
 the sudden weight of happiness, and 
 Innis had an additional source of fore 
 boding. Would not his course be at 
 tributed to the basest motives nay, 
 would not Colonel Brand meet him on 
 the very threshold of Rivanna, with an 
 insult with the charge that he had dis 
 honorably taken advantage of the free 
 dom accorded him by the family, to win 
 the affection of the young and beautiful 
 heiress ? The face of the youth blushed 
 at the very idea of such an accusation. 
 What would be the result? Insult- 
 quarrel bitterness beyond words ; and, 
 as he pondered thus, he looked at Hono 
 ria. 
 
 There was no doubt in her face; 
 naught but unshrinking, unhesitating 
 love. Where the youth trembled, she, 
 the " weaker vessel," was firm ; love had 
 wrought this mystery. 
 
 " My poor darling," said Innis, look 
 ing at the girl with inexpressible pride 
 and tenderness, " I fear this day is the 
 beginning of much suffering for you, 
 but I love you so dearly ! " 
 
 She inclined her head sidewise until 
 
 it touched his shoulder. Then she 
 looked up into his eyes, and said, smil 
 ing: 
 
 " You ought to know that that is 
 enough to console me for all, Edmund ! " 
 
 An hour afterward, Honoria had 
 told her mother all. The good lady 
 shook her head sadly. 
 
 "My poor, poor child," she said, 
 drawing her daughter to her heart, " I 
 feared this, and yet had not resolution 
 enough to interfere between this affec 
 tion on your part and Edmund s. He 
 is all that the noblest woman could wish, 
 and, were I able to control your fate, I 
 should not hesitate ; but I am powerless. 
 You know your father s pride, and, I 
 must add, worldliness. He has re 
 solved, I fear, that you shall make a 
 grand match ; and Edmund is so poor 
 this terrible poverty ! " 
 
 "It is nothing, mamma!" said Ho 
 noria, with a blush and a smile. Her 
 mother smiled in reply, but it was rather 
 a sad smile. 
 
 "It is every thing with Colonel 
 Brand or much, at least but let us 
 hope for the best. You say that Ed 
 mund would not permit you to bind 
 yourself. That is like him, and time 
 may change all. He may make his mark 
 in the colony, and that may reconcile 
 your father to the arrangement. 1 think, 
 now, that Edmund had better absent 
 himself for a short time." 
 
 "Yes, indeed, mamma; I have al 
 ready given him his orders," replied 
 Honoria, laughing. 
 
 Do not laugh at her laughter, reader. 
 She was a mere child, and so happy. 
 
 Innis left Rivanna on the same even 
 ing, and the place seemed dark to Hono 
 ria. For the first time, she felt how 
 dearly, how absorbingly she loved him. 
 
 Such had been the events of a single 
 day in the life of Honoria Brand. She 
 was happy beyond words; her young 
 life was flooded all at once with sun 
 shine ; and the future seemed to contain 
 
HOW THEY DREW LOTS WHICH SHOULD EAT THE DUMB-CAKE. 
 
 39 
 
 no cloud which could overshadow her 
 existence. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 HOW T1IEY DEEW LOTS WHICH SHOULD 
 EAT THE DUMB-CAKE. 
 
 THE Virginians have been noted al 
 ways for their devotion to the pleasures 
 of social intercourse their love of com 
 pany, festivities, of whatever lifts from the 
 heart the inexorable weight of care, or 
 dissipates the wearying preoccupation 
 of affairs. To enjoy while life lasts, and 
 catch the perfume of the blossom such 
 is the philosophy of this race of English 
 people living under brighter skies and 
 warmer sunshine than the skies and sun 
 shine of that "nest of swans," as Shake 
 speare calls Old England. To laugh, to 
 dance, to drive dull care away such has 
 always been the habit of the country 
 society of Virginia; and at Rivanna, in 
 the old times of which I write, the days 
 and nights were one round of gayety. 
 The flying hours were sent upon their 
 way with joyous laughter with music, 
 games, rides to the mountain, and that 
 most popular of all divertisements, love- 
 making. 
 
 All day the merry revel went on, and 
 when night came the great mansion blazed 
 with lights the negro violinists tuned 
 their instruments, the halls resounded, 
 and the little beauties and their cavaliers 
 bowed low in the stately minuet, or flew 
 through the mazes of the Virginia reel, 
 until the hands of the great shadowy- 
 looking clock behind the hall-door pointed 
 to midnight. 
 
 The evening came at last preceding 
 the day upon which it was determined 
 that the party should break up. The 
 company seemed to have grown weary 
 of dancing, of games, of jest and laughter. 
 As a new entertainment, they had re 
 course to " ghost-stories ; " and, the lights 
 having been put out, they grouped them 
 selves upon chairs, settees, cushions, and 
 
 the floor, listening in awe-struck silence 
 to the low whisper of the story-teller of 
 the moment. 
 
 The spectacle was striking. Through 
 the tall windows the pallid moonlight 
 streamed into the large apartment, pro 
 jecting fantastic shadows on the carpet ; 
 the silken dresses of the young girls 
 shimmered in the weird light, and the 
 darker costumes of their male companions 
 assumed a lugubrious and funereal ap 
 pearance, the figures but half denned in 
 the gloom. 
 
 At last the ghost-story, related in a 
 low, awe-struck whisper, was over, and 
 the group drew a long breath. A second 
 and a third narration followed the 
 mournful splendor of the moonlight 
 seemed to deepen the shadow of the 
 great oak without, through whose leaves 
 a wind swept, waved upon the floor, 
 making all turn their heads quickly and 
 when suddenly the great clock struck, 
 with its clangorous, metallic sound, in 
 the darkness, something like a shiver 
 ran through every frame. 
 
 The last story ended, and a deep 
 silence followed. It was broken by Lou 
 Brand, who, essaying to laugh, but failing 
 lamentably, said: 
 
 " Well, girls, there is but one thing 
 more for us to do, and that is, to eat 
 the dumb-cake to-night." 
 
 "Yes, yes! " came from the rest. 
 
 " Who will venture ? " continued the 
 young lady. "It is said to be a fearful 
 ordeal, and mamma tells of a young lady, 
 a friend of hers once, who saw a sight 
 so dreadful that she went distracted." 
 
 Exclamations of terror and curiosity 
 greeted these words. 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 The young lady shook her head. 
 
 "You may laugh at me," she replied, 
 " for saying so, but these ghost-stories 
 have made me nervous. I tried to make 
 a jest just now, and failed. I cannot tell 
 you mamma s story I could not sleep 
 j after it. And I think, upon the whole, 
 
40 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 that it would be as well not to eat 
 the dumb-cake to-night." 
 
 But this proposition was received 
 with murmurs. 
 
 " No harm can result from it," said 
 one. 
 
 " I will venture," said another. 
 
 " And I." 
 
 " And I," said a third and fourth. 
 
 " Well," said the young lady, " if you 
 are resolved, I will not dissuade you. But, 
 as there are so many candidates, you must 
 draw lots." 
 
 This was readily agreed to, and, pro 
 curing a wheat-straw, the young lady 
 divided it into a number of pieces of 
 equal length, with the exception of one, 
 which was very short, and grasped them 
 in her hand, the protruding ends exactly 
 coinciding. 
 
 " Form a circle on the floor, now," 
 she said, " and I will stand in the centre, 
 and each can draw." 
 
 About half a dozen of the young girls 
 promptly obeyed, and the protestations 
 of her companions induced Honoria, very 
 much against her will, to become one of 
 the group. 
 
 " Each draw one straw, now," said 
 Lou Brand ; " the girl who draws the 
 shortest will be the one." 
 
 The ceremony was performed in sol 
 emn silence. Each in turn drew. 
 
 " Now hold up your hands." 
 
 This was done. 
 
 " You have drawn the short straw, 
 Honoria," said Lou Brand to her sister, 
 " and you must go through the ordeal." 
 
 41 Oh, I cannot ! " exclaimed Honoria. 
 
 But this was protested against by all ; 
 and Honoria found herself doomed to eat 
 the dumb-cake. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 TERROR. 
 
 THE singular rite styled eating the 
 dumb-cake was one of those superstitious 
 
 ceremonies which, whether derived from 
 half - civilized and credulous African 
 nurses, or having their origin far back 
 beyond memory, had taken fast hold up 
 on the imaginations of the young at this 
 period. 
 
 The origin of the name is difficult to 
 determine, especially as no cake of any 
 description was eaten. Was the name 
 metaphorical, and did it signify that those 
 who performed the ceremony saw sights 
 which sealed their lips, rendering them 
 dumb as to the mystery ? 
 
 It is certain, at least, that there was 
 something sombre and mysterious about 
 the rite a knowledge of which was 
 carefully concealed from all but the fe 
 male sex ; and the preparations for it 
 were weird and fantastic. 
 
 First, the maiden selected to perform 
 the ceremony was to leave all her com 
 panions and await the hour of eleven at 
 night. Then she was to take a bucket, 
 proceed silently and alone to the mystic 
 spot where three streams met, fill the 
 bucket, and then gain with it the cham 
 ber selected for the mysterious ceremony. 
 All was to be performed without assist 
 ance. No other human being must be 
 near. Having reached her chamber, she 
 was to deposit the bucket on the floor, 
 doff her garments, and, when ready to 
 retire, dip the sleeve of the garment 
 which she had worn nearest her person 
 in the water, and place it upon a chair. 
 
 These ceremonies, it was supposed, 
 would consume nearly an hour, and mid 
 night would be near when they were 
 finished. The neophyte was then to 
 stand perfectly motionless and silent, 
 awaiting the stroke of midnight. The 
 strokes were to be counted in silence 
 from " one " to " twelve." At the stroke 
 of twelve the maiden was to look over 
 her shoulder into a mirror placed for the 
 purpose and the result would be, that 
 she would see her future husband ! 
 
 It will now be understood why Ho 
 noria was reluctant to join the group. 
 
TERROR. 
 
 and had exclaimed, "Oh, I cannot!" 
 when the lot fell to her ; and why, in both 
 cases, she permitted herself to be over 
 ruled. She wished and she did not wish 
 to see her " future husband " for these 
 two words conjured up the form of Ed 
 mund Innis. Superstitious, like all at 
 that epoch, she had a lurking belief in 
 the mysterious ceremony, and shrunk 
 from attempting thus to read that fu 
 ture which must bring her joy or misery 
 in connection with Innis. 
 
 She had yielded, however, ashamed 
 of herself, it may be, or saying, " It is 
 nothing." "When the whole party soon 
 afterward retired to their respective 
 apartments, Honoria went to her own, 
 where on this night no companion was 
 to share her couch, and resolutely pre 
 pared for the mysterious ordeal. 
 
 An unexpected obstacle suddenly 
 presented itself. The night, which had 
 been hitherto fair, had gradually become 
 over-clouded ; in the distance was heard 
 the low muttering of thunder ; and from 
 moment to moment sullen flashes of far 
 lightning divided the night. 
 
 u If I go, I must go now, and I have 
 promised," murmured the girl. 
 
 It was not far that she must go to 
 procure the mystic water. In a dell, 
 overshadowed by great trees, a few hun 
 dred yards from the house, three small 
 rivulets, tributaries of the Rivanna, min 
 gled their waters within a few feet of 
 each other ; and toward this spot, hold 
 ing in her hand the bucket, Honoria now 
 hastened. 
 
 The night had become darker and 
 darker, the heavens more and more ob 
 scured by the huge masses of inky 
 clouds, which were divided at every in 
 stant by vivid lightnings. These daz 
 zling serpents, appearing and vanishing 
 as suddenly, were followed by the hoarse 
 roar of thunder; and, terrified by this 
 uproar of the elements, Honoria hastened 
 on as rapidly as possible, to reach the 
 desired point. As she did so, terror 
 
 gradually took possession of her. Her 
 pulse beat feverishly, and her quick 
 breathing indicated that she was nearly 
 overcome by fright. 
 
 But her word was given, and her 
 character for resolution at stake. She 
 must go on, and she did so pale, terri 
 fied, stumbling as she ran. The shadowy 
 boughs above her seemed to reach down 
 spectral hands to grasp her and bear her 
 away. The bushes took the shape of 
 something weird and fearful lying in 
 wait for her. "When, suddenly, an owl 
 uttered his ghostly laughter near, she 
 shrunk, and nearly fainted from terror. 
 
 How she had strength to proceed she 
 could never explain, but she resolutely 
 went on, reached the spot, filled the 
 bucket, and hurried back toward the 
 hall, panting, tottering, dizzy, and stum 
 bling as she ran from the fiery lightning, 
 whose red finger seemed to be feeling for 
 her in the darkness. 
 
 Her will supported her, nevertheless, 
 and at last her foot struck the sill of the 
 side-door by which she intended to gain 
 her chamber. Here her strength gave 
 way, and she sank down, nearly over 
 come by nervous agitation. 
 
 A few moments, however, sufficed for 
 the recovery of her strength, and, raising 
 the bucket once more, she mounted pain 
 fully with the heavy weight to her cham 
 ber. 
 
 There all was still, and nothing was 
 heard but the low sound of the fire, 
 which, in anticipation of the coolness 
 of the autumn night, had been kindled 
 some hours before in the great fireplace. 
 The wood had been nearly all consumed 
 a few brands only were left, which 
 had fallen from the andirons, and around 
 these the flames, about to expire, were 
 licking with their snake-like tongues. 
 
 Without, the storm raged with vio 
 lence, and the ghastly glare of the moon, 
 seen from time to time, as the ebon 
 clouds drifted away before the wind, 
 only made the night more lugubrious. 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 "Oh, I cannot, I cannot! " exclaimed 
 the girl, looking around her with a shud 
 der. " I am not well, I am nervous 
 sick" 
 
 She went toward the fire, as though 
 that were something cheerful and friend 
 ly ; and, seating herself in a great arm 
 chair, endeavored to regain her calm 
 ness. 
 
 XX. 
 
 THE DTJMB-OAKE. 
 
 Ix spite of every effort made by Ho- 
 noria, she found it impossible to recover 
 her calmness. It is probable that the 
 prolonged loss of rest, incident upon the 
 festivities of the many preceding nights, 
 had predisposed her to nervous agitation ; 
 but, whatever may have been the cause, 
 she \vas now laboring under very great 
 excitement, and shrunk, trembling, at 
 every sound. 
 
 The strange rite she was about to 
 perform came to add the finishing touch 
 to her agitation. 
 
 There was the bucket, filled with 
 the mysterious water from the weird 
 locality where the three streams met; 
 she looked sidewise at it, with a sudden 
 quaking, as though it were some fright 
 ful and repellent monster, some hideous 
 thing. This was to aid her in in what? 
 In seeing the figure of her future hus 
 band ! 
 
 At that thought, a quick blush came 
 to the beautiful young face, driving away 
 for an instant the expression of terror. 
 It was the name Edmund that rose to 
 her lips, and brought the crimson to her 
 cheeks. Could any other person than 
 Edmund ever sustain toward her that 
 most sacred relation? Was it within the 
 bounds of possibility that any one but 
 Edmund could be her husband? At 
 the very thought, the pale cheeks flushed, 
 and she exclaimed in a low tone, " I 
 would rather die ! " 
 
 Her own voice made her start, and 
 
 she looked round fearfully. Every ob 
 ject seemed to have assumed a new 
 character, becoming threatening or lugu 
 brious. The shadows of the curtains 
 on the wall resembled dark hands 
 raised to strike her ; the great oak with 
 out was a spectre peering in through her 
 casement; the half-hideous, half-gro 
 tesque heads on the tops of the tall and 
 irons seemed grinning at her terror and 
 mocking her. 
 
 The nervous agitation of the young 
 lady had now attained almost its high 
 est point. The storm roared with a fury 
 more appalling than before. The shad 
 ows assumed more threatening shapes. 
 At every sound, Honoria started, shud 
 dering and gazing around her with af 
 frighted eyes. This excitement grew at 
 last so powerful that she scarcely dared 
 to move. With a trembling frame and 
 colorless cheeks she listened in an agony 
 of terror, and once she wellnigh uttered 
 a stream, for a low, painful breathing 
 seemed to issue from the great white 
 bed, which, with spectral curtains drawn 
 together like a shroud, alternately ap 
 peared and vanished as the dying fire 
 light leaped aloft or disappeared. 
 
 The low breathing had scarcely 
 ceased, when another source of agitation 
 presented itself. Above the fireplace 
 hung that portrait of the elder Lord 
 Ruthven, Colonel Brand s friend, and 
 the picture had changed its quarter from 
 the colonel s dressing-room by a singular 
 chance, which will be explained in the 
 progress of the narrative. As llonoria 
 gazed now at the dark, melancholy face, 
 it seemed alive. The shadowy eyes 
 were fixed upon her with terrifying in 
 tensity. She looked away, but they 
 seemed to draw her, and there again was 
 the dark, lugubrious gaze, full of myste 
 rious meaning. Then the brows seemed 
 to contract with a frown the lips to 
 assume an ominous and threatening ex 
 pression the portrait to move, and the 
 figure to be about to step from the can- 
 
AT THREE IX THE MORNING. 
 
 43 
 
 vas and extend its shadowy hand tow 
 ard her. 
 
 Honoria rose to her feet, trembling 
 and shuddering. Her terror had reached 
 its climax. She felt that it was neces 
 sary to dissipate the fearful atmosphere 
 around her, or she would fall fainting 
 upon the floor. The thought of call 
 ing fbr assistance occurred to her, but 
 the storm was too violent to admit of 
 her being heard. Then she would be 
 come the laughing-stock of all was she 
 not overcome simply by foolish ner 
 vousness? No, she would not shrink. 
 
 "I am no longer a child," she mur 
 mured ; " I must prove myself a woman, 
 for his sake if not for my own! " 
 
 She knelt and prayed, trembling, but 
 firm in will. 
 
 Then partly disrobing herself, the 
 young lady dipped the sleeve of the 
 snowy garment, worn next her person, 
 in the bucket, placed it with a tremulous 
 hand upon a chair, and went toward the 
 mirror. 
 
 At the same moment the great clock 
 in the hall below began to strike mid 
 night. 
 
 Pale, trembling, with bare feet, hair 
 falling upon her shoulders, and resem 
 bling rather a ghost than a human being, 
 the young lady counted the strokes one 
 after another, shuddering more and 
 more as the number increased, and ap 
 proached the terrible " twelve," denot 
 ing midnight. 
 
 Had she not been so completely mas 
 tered by terror, she might have seen 
 two burning eyes watching her from be 
 hind the shroud -like curtains of the 
 great bed. 
 
 But she saw nothing ; her eyes were 
 half closed, and fixed upon the floor ; 
 one hand was placed upon her heart, to 
 still its terrible throbbing. 
 
 Suddenly the clock struck twelve : a 
 fearful shudder convulsed the frame of 
 Honoria; and, turning quickly, she 
 looked into the mirror. 
 
 XXL 
 
 AT THEEE IN THE MORNING. 
 
 THE occurrences of this terrible night 
 afterward became the topic of conver 
 sation far and wide in the region around 
 Rivanna; and the point of most interest 
 seemed to be the exact hour of the night 
 at which the singular event if there 
 were such took place. 
 
 It was remembered that the party in 
 the drawing-room separated at about 
 eleven the object having been to afford 
 Honoria time to make her preparations, 
 procure the water from the stream, and 
 be in readiness at midnight for the ordeal 
 of the dumb-cake. That she did make 
 every preparation, and, in spite of the 
 storm, reach the point where the three 
 streams met, and return with the bucket 
 of water, was soon ascertained the 
 bucket was there, and one of the maids 
 had seen her pass through the grounds. 
 She had regained the house, it was as 
 certained, some time before midnight ; 
 and certainly had time to arrange her 
 night toilet, to perform the ceremony of 
 dipping the sleeve of her garment in the 
 water, and was ready to look into the 
 mirror at the moment when the great 
 clock in the hall below struck twelve. 
 
 And yet the horrible incidents of the 
 night must have taken place a con 
 siderable time after midnight perhaps 
 as late as one in the morning. There 
 was no means, it is true, of accurately 
 ascertaining this fact that is to say, of 
 fixing the precise hour; but the young 
 ladies of the party were confident that 
 they had listened for sounds from Hono- 
 ria s room at midnight; were equally 
 certain that they had heard nothing ; and 
 they had asserted that it was a consider 
 able time after midnight, and just as 
 they were retiring, when the piercing 
 shriek which startled them was heard 
 issuing from Honoria s apartment ! 
 
 The shriek was followed by a heavy 
 fall. The whole party of young ladies, 
 
44 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 clad in their white night-dresses, ran, in 
 undisguised alarm, to the chamber, and 
 there a piteous sight met their eyes. Ho- 
 noria was stretched upon the floor in 
 sensible, and, when they raised her, her 
 companions gave a quick shudder; she 
 hung upon their arms so inert and life 
 less, that they thought her dead. Re 
 storatives were quickly applied, and 
 water dashed in the young girl s face, to 
 arouse her ; but, for a long time, these 
 remedies had no effect. Meanwhile, 
 Lady Brand had been sent for, and hur 
 ried to the chamber. As she ran to her 
 child, calling to her in agonized tones, a 
 faint color came to Honoria s cheeks ; she 
 opened her eyes, gazed vacantly around 
 her, and then, clutching rather than sim 
 ply embracing her mother, cried in a 
 trembling and broken voice: 
 
 " O mother ! protect me ! do not 
 leave me ! protect me from that horror 
 on my shoulder ! " 
 
 As she spoke, she closed her eyes, 
 and with a frightful shudder clung to her 
 mother, as though for protection. 
 
 She was borne to bed immediately, 
 and Lady Brand requested the young 
 ladies to retire, and leave her to tend her 
 daughter. This they did with reluc 
 tance; but the apartment was soon va 
 cated by all but Honoria, Lady Brand, 
 and her eldest daughter. 
 
 " Honoria has had some terrible 
 shock Heaven knows what ! " said Lady 
 Brand, supporting the trembling form 
 of the half-inanimate girl in her arms on 
 the bed. "What it was can be ascer 
 tained afterward; what is necessary no\v 
 is a physician." 
 
 "Oh, yes, yes, mamma!" exclaimed 
 her daughter, pale, and in tears. 
 
 " Do not disturb Colonel Brand; he 
 will be of no service. Send Cato he is 
 trusty on the best horse in the stables, 
 for Dr. Bond." 
 
 The young lady hurried to arouse 
 Cato, who was soon in the saddle. 
 
 An hour afterward, Dr. Bond ar 
 
 rived an elderly, solemn-looking gen 
 tleman, who "hummed" between his 
 phrases, looked profound, and rounded 
 his periods with sonorous scientific 
 terms. He prescribed some trifle for 
 Honoria, assuring Lady Brand that the 
 young girl was "simply laboring under 
 a slight nervous disorder, partaking of 
 the character of, but not to be accurate 
 ly designated, at least at the present 
 moment, as hysteria; something had 
 doubtless disagreed with her, and subse 
 quent agitation on some subject, or, in 
 fact, on no subject, would amply account 
 for a slight attack which need occasion 
 no alarm no alarm whatever, I assure 
 you, my dear madam." 
 
 On the afternoon of the next day, 
 Honoria, who had passed the forenoon in 
 a condition of half-consciousness only, 
 began to grow animated, and had a mag 
 nificent color. 
 
 "Look, doctor," said Lady Brand 
 to Dr. Bond. "I think my daughter s 
 appearance indicates an access of fe 
 ver." 
 
 " Hum ! " said Dr. Bond, clearing his 
 throat with extreme dignity, " it may be 
 that there is a slight hum inclination 
 to as you say, madam fever." 
 
 And, with a profound air, the doctor 
 felt the young girl s pulse. 
 
 "I know it is fever," said Lady Brand, 
 brusquely, and turning to Colonel Brand, 
 who was seated, still and solemn, in the 
 chamber, she exchanged a few words 
 with him in a low tone, after which she 
 left the apartment. 
 
 Descending the staircase rapidly, 
 Lady Brand was just passing through 
 the hall, when suddenly she found her 
 self face to face with a pale young man, 
 whose white lips said : 
 
 "What is the matter with Ilonoria, 
 aunt ? " 
 
 Lady Brand seized his hand, and ex 
 claimed : 
 
 u I will tell you, when you return, 
 Edmund. I intended to send Cato, but 
 
AT THREE IN THE MORNING. 
 
 45 
 
 you will not return without him, if you 
 have to drag him." 
 
 " Drag him ! drag whom ? " 
 
 " Dr. Vandyke." 
 
 Innis gazed with startled eyes at 
 Lady Brand. 
 
 " Yes, Dr. Vandyke ! " she repeated ; 
 "he must come at once, and see my 
 child ; this stupid Dr. Bond will let her 
 die" 
 
 " Die ! good Heavens ! of what ? " 
 
 " Of brain-fever." 
 
 As she was speaking, Lady Brand 
 had hastened toward a desk in a corner 
 of the hall, which contained pen, ink, 
 and paper. Taking a sheet, she wrote 
 upon it : 
 
 "You said once that if I ever needed 
 you, you would come, travelling night 
 and day, if necessary. I need you now." 
 
 Signing and directing this note, she 
 gave it to Innis. 
 
 " Bring the doctor back with you, 
 my son, and as soon as possible," she 
 said ; " I have an instinct in diseases, and 
 this of Honoria s is going to be critical." 
 
 Innis scarcely waited to hear the 
 sentence finished. His thorough-bred, 
 fresh and in fine condition, stood at the 
 door ; he was in the saddle in a minute, 
 and disappeared at full gallop in the 
 direction of Williamsburg. 
 
 It seemed to Lady Brand a century 
 since the departure of Innis, and she 
 counted the hours, day and night, with 
 feverish impatience holding the hot 
 face of Honoria in her bosom giving 
 her cooling draughts striving to combat 
 the disease until the arrival of the per 
 son for whom she had sent. 
 
 Dr. Bond had taken up his residence 
 at the hall, and still rounded his periods 
 with serene dignity, drank the colonel s 
 wine, and declared the case of Miss 
 Brand one which would readily yield 
 to treatment, unless another and more 
 threatening phase was superinduced up 
 on the present, which his diagnosis told 
 him was 
 
 The voice droned on, and Lady 
 Brand did not even seem to hear it. It 
 was three in the morning, and she held 
 the hot hand of the girl, listening. 
 
 All at once she turned her head 
 quickly. 
 
 " He has come ! " she said. 
 
 " To whom, madam, may I ask, do 
 you hum refer?" said Dr. Bond. 
 
 Lady Brand was already at the door, 
 a lamp in her hand; steps traversed the 
 hall, and then mounted. 
 
 "Well," said a vibrating and metallic 
 voice, " how is she ? " 
 
 And Dr. Vandyke came and grasped 
 the hand of Lady Brand; his long, gray 
 hair streaming around his face, in which 
 burned two piercing eyes ; his long over 
 coat covered with dust ; his pipe-stem 
 legs, lost in huge riding-boots, clattering 
 as he walked. 
 
 "How is Honoria?" 
 
 "She is ill." 
 
 "Worse?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 This dialogue terminated with a nod 
 from Dr. Vandyke, who went into the 
 chamber, and up to the bed. 
 
 Dr. Bond was standing there in an 
 attitude of much dignity. An expres 
 sion of some surprise, and even hauteur, 
 mingled with the dignity. 
 
 " Hum," he said, "I have the honor 
 of seeing Dr. " 
 
 " Vandyke, at your service. How is 
 Miss Brand ? " 
 
 This question was delivered with 
 business-like brevity, and the tone of it 
 contrasted strongly with that of Dr. 
 Bond. 
 
 The latter cleared his throat, and 
 commenced an imposing sentence; but 
 Dr. Vandyke, measuring his professional 
 brother at one glance, proceeded uncere 
 moniously to form his own opinion of 
 the sufferer s condition. 
 
 Lady Brand was at his side. After 
 some moments 1 silence : 
 
 "Well, doctor? " she said, anxiously. 
 
46 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke said, briefly : 
 
 " Well, madam ? " 
 
 That was all ; he did not look at the 
 lady. 
 
 " What do you think of Honoria? " 
 
 " She has brain-fever." 
 
 " The attack is dangerous ? " 
 
 " Hum will you permit me, madam 
 if I might venture to express an 
 opinion," said Dr. Bond, with some hau 
 teur, " Miss Brand has already improved 
 under my treatment, and I do not re 
 gard her case as critical in its character." 
 
 Lady Brand bowed hurriedly, but 
 looked at Dr. Vandyke. This look was 
 unmistakable. 
 
 " You desire my opinion of Miss 
 Brand s condition, madam ? " he said. 
 
 " Yes, doctor." 
 
 He looked at her with, a singular, 
 wistful glance, and muttered : 
 
 "You were always strong; superior 
 in brain and nerve to any woman I ever 
 knew " 
 
 " Doctor ! " 
 
 Lady Brand had begun to tremble 
 from head to foot. 
 
 "Speak, and speak plainly!" she 
 said. 
 
 " Tt is best. There is no more for me 
 to learn of this case. The crisis will 
 take place in three days. Honoria will 
 then be convalescent, or do you think 
 you can stand the truth ? " 
 
 "Yes yes! Speak." 
 
 " She will be dead ! " 
 
 A low groan from the door-way came 
 like an echo to the words. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke looked round his 
 steady gaze passing from the white face 
 of Lady Brand to the face of him who 
 had uttered the groan. 
 
 It was Innis who, leaning upon the 
 frame of the door, and gazing with eyes 
 wet with tears upon the sick girl, had 
 summed up as it were in this expres 
 sion of anguish the despair under which 
 it seemed to him his heart would 
 break. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 THE CRISIS. 
 
 THREE days nearly, hour for hour, 
 passed. During this time, Dr. Vandyke 
 scarcely left for an instant the bedside 
 of Honoria, scafcely tasted food, and 
 concentrated every faculty of his pow 
 erful brain upon the wellnigh hopeless 
 task of snatching the sick girl from the 
 hand of Death stretched forth to clutch 
 her. There was something sublime in 
 this gigantic struggle of the eccentric 
 dwarf, in his outre costume, with the su 
 preme enemy of humanity. The conflict 
 was breast to breast; science and the 
 spirit of death wrestled over the wasted 
 body ; and at last the decisive moment 
 came. 
 
 It was an hour or two past midnight. 
 The three days fixed by Dr. Vandyke, as 
 the term of the struggle when the crisis 
 would arrive, were about to expire. 
 
 Honoria, wasted away to a phantom 
 nearly, lay, or rather tossed to and fro, 
 burnt up by the fearful fever which was 
 preying upon all the sources of her life. 
 
 In the group near the fireplace stood 
 Colonel Brand, still, and overawed by the 
 terrible spectacle ; Lady Brand, pale, but 
 with red rings around her eyes; her 
 elder daughter, faint and sobbing; and 
 Dr. Bond, who had lingered with unpro 
 fessional persistence, preserving still his 
 air of offended dignity, but sullenly bend 
 ing before the imperious will of Dr. Van 
 dyke, who, standing at the head of the 
 bed, watched the girl with an intensity 
 which indicated the profound anxiety 
 concealed beneath his collected expres 
 sion. 
 
 All felt that this man, in the long 
 overcoat, with the elfin gray locks, was 
 the master, and left all to him. The only 
 sound which disturbed the silence from 
 moment to moment was the brief, vibrat 
 ing voice, demanding " Ice ! " " More 
 ice ! " The burning temples seeming to 
 melt it as soon as it was applied. The 
 
THE CRISIS. 
 
 sick girl, with head thrown back, eyes 
 closed or wandering, lips full of physical 
 agony, and cruelly wasted already in face 
 and form, was wrestling with the enemy 
 of Life Death, the pitiless, the inexora 
 ble. 
 
 All at once the nmtterings of agony 
 gave place to words : 
 
 " The breathing ! the breathing ! there 
 in the bed ! " exclaimed Honoria. 
 
 As she uttered the words, she threw 
 herself violently to the opposite side of 
 the bed, and said in a scream almost : 
 
 "The dagger! the weight upon my 
 shoulders ! that horror ! " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke went quickly to Lady 
 Brand, and uttered a few words. 
 
 His communication must have been a 
 request that all but the girl s mother and 
 himself should leave the apartment, as 
 Lady Brand spoke, in a low tone to her 
 husband, and all but herself and the phy 
 sician went out of the chamber. 
 
 " There is something terrible under 
 all this," said Dr. Vandyke, in a low 
 tone, to the lady ; " the case is mental- 
 physical remedies are of little avail." 
 
 " doctor, can nothing be done ? " 
 
 " Something physical rcsthesia is 
 practicable; but " 
 
 " Help ! help ! " cried the girl, raising 
 her hands as though to repulse some fear 
 ful object. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke pressed the bandage con 
 taining ice to her forehead, and with the 
 other hand forced her to receive between 
 her lips some drops of an anodyne. 
 
 " In ten minutes all will be decided," 
 he muttered. 
 
 As he spoke, the girl fell back uttering 
 a low moan, and then lay motionless. 
 Her labored breathing only indicated 
 life. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke stood holding her pulse, 
 and watching her with the eyes of a 
 hawk. Some minutes passed thus ; then 
 the fiery flush on the patient s face faded 
 almost imperceptibly into a less crimson 
 tint, the least observable moisture ap 
 
 peared upon the forehead at the roots of 
 the hair ; and through the iron frame of 
 the physician a tremor passed. 
 
 " The pulse is moderating ! " he said, 
 in a low voice ; " wait ! " 
 
 And drawing from its fob a large 
 watch, he counted, fixing his eyes upon 
 the dial. 
 
 A minute passed in dead silence. 
 
 " Ninety ! " rang out sonorous, from 
 the lips of the physician ; and, turning to 
 Lady Brand, he added : 
 
 " Your daughter is saved ! " 
 
 An hour afterward there was no lon 
 ger the least doubt of the patient s condi 
 tion. She was sleeping almost sweetly 
 her brow bathed in perspiration, which 
 Lady Brand, scarce able to suppress her 
 sobs of joy, from time to time wiped 
 away with a handkerchief. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke was down-stairs eating 
 voraciously, and oblivious apparently of 
 the stately colonel and the dignified Dr. 
 Bond, who were seated at the same table, 
 drinking wine. 
 
 "May I ahem have the pleasure, 
 sir " 
 
 And Dr. Bond, from whose oracular 
 lips issued these words, filled his glass, 
 and pushed the bottle to Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 " I never drink wine," came in a spe 
 cies of snap from that personage. 
 
 Dr. Bond drew back with hauteur. 
 
 "Unfits a physician for his business," 
 said Dr. Vandyke, " and I don t want it. 
 When I am hungry I eat." 
 
 "Obviously, sir," was the remotely 
 satirical reply of Dr. Bond. 
 
 "Rode all day and all night to ar 
 rive," said Dr. Vandyke, with his mouth 
 full. 
 
 " And ahem you think that Miss 
 Brand-" 
 
 " I never think ! " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke uttered the words with 
 extreme curtness, and went on eating. 
 
 " At least, sir," responded Dr. Bond, 
 with lofty politeness, " you have formed 
 
48 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 some theory ahem of Miss Brand s 
 case?" 
 
 "Theory?" " 
 
 " Theory I said, sir." 
 
 " No, I have formed no theory. I 
 can see with my eyes. Miss Brand has 
 brain-fever." 
 
 "I was also aware of that fact, sir," 
 said Dr. Bond, with immense politeness ; 
 " brain-fever, attributable to loss of rest, 
 dissipation, and exposure." 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Do I ahem understand you, sir, 
 to say " 
 
 " I don t know what you understand. 
 Miss Brand has brain-fever produced by 
 other causes." 
 
 "What causes? " 
 
 "I decline to discuss the subject." 
 
 Dr. Bond rose with dignity. 
 
 " If I am to be insulted in this house, 
 Colonel Brand, I will no longer intrude. 
 It seems that I am not only not to be 
 consulted, but my natural inquiries 
 questions obviously drawn forth by the 
 case, sir are to be treated with indig 
 nity ! " 
 
 " I never answer questions, and I un 
 derstand this case," said Dr. Vandyke, 
 pushing back his plate. " I am sent for 
 by Lady Brand, and I treat the case." 
 
 A servant came at this moment to 
 summon Dr. Vandyke to the sick-room, 
 and he went thither at once, leaving Dr. 
 Bond in such extreme wrath that he 
 soon afterward left Kivanna in dis 
 gust. 
 
 Honoria was still sleeping, and the 
 healthful moisture still bathed her brow. 
 
 "I am so anxious, doctor," said the 
 poor mother, in a whisper, " that I wish 
 you to remain with me. I disturbed you 
 in" 
 
 " No, I had finished ; was undergoing 
 a stupid interrogation from my brother 
 Bond, who is an ass." 
 
 He felt the pulse of the girl, and 
 said: 
 
 " All is going on well, and the force 
 
 of the fever is spent. In three days the 
 body will begin to resume its normal 
 functions ; the mind remains." 
 
 " The mind, doctor ? " 
 
 " The mind ; that will be the real 
 struggle. Listen to me a moment." 
 
 And the physician drew Lady Brand 
 toward the window. 
 
 " I am perfectly familiar with this 
 type," he said; "it is simple the pa 
 tient gets well or dies quickly all that 
 is touch-and-go. What follows it is more 
 terrible. I will not bewilder you with 
 scientific terms. In brief words, Hono- 
 ria s attack will be followed by perma 
 nent melancholy, hysteria, and worse, 
 unless a peculiar course is pursued in her 
 case. I will write to-day, delegating my 
 business in the capital to an associate, 
 and remain here " 
 
 " Oh, thanks thanks ! " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke looked at Lady Brand 
 with a peculiar expression. When he 
 spoke his voice was no longer cold and 
 vibrating. 
 
 " I want no thanks," he said. " Peo 
 ple call me eccentric. Well, one of my 
 eccentricities is to regard the daughter 
 of the woman I once loved as my own. 
 You were my only well, what people 
 call their romance! I should have been 
 happy had you married me, and you less 
 happy but enough of this. Let me fin 
 ish. In five days from this time Honoria 
 will have recovered in a great degree from 
 her fever, and then we must combat the 
 mental malady which will suroly super 
 vene. I will instruct you when and how 
 to make your inquiries. This will be of 
 importance. That very dignified dunder 
 head down-stairs thinks the attack pro 
 duced by loss of rest, which is pure non 
 sense. It is the result of terror of a 
 breathing heard in that bed on the night 
 of her seizure of something which 
 sprung or fell upon her shoulders of, I 
 know not what, and yet I will know ! " 
 
 " Is it possible, doctor ! " 
 
 " Of that and that alone. Let us, for 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE AND LADY BRAND. 
 
 the present, however, combat the physi 
 cal malady the mental must wait." 
 
 The doctor went and sat down, as he 
 spoke, in the great, high-backed arm 
 chair, upon which Honoria had placed 
 the garment dipped in the mystic water. 
 As he did so, he glanced quickly toward 
 the mirror beyond, as though impressed 
 by some sudden idea connected with the 
 relative positions of the two objects. His 
 present aim, however, seemed to be to 
 snatch a little sleep. 
 
 " I have not closed my eyes for forty- 
 eight hours, and am a little fatigued," 
 he said. " This is an excellent bed if 
 you will permit, madam I never snore ! " 
 
 And, closing his eyes, the doctor fell 
 asleep almost instantly his fantastic 
 legs, ending in huge feet and buckled 
 shoes, stretched out straight before him ; 
 his arms folded across his broad chest, 
 and his face nearly concealed by the 
 long, gray locks of his hair. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 DE. VANDYKE AND LADY BRAND. 
 
 TEN days after the scenes just de 
 scribed, Lady Brand and Dr. Vandyke 
 were seated alone in the library at a late 
 hour of the night, engaged in earnest 
 conversation. 
 
 Colonel Brand had retired some time 
 before, and no sound was heard through 
 out the great mansion, save the ticking 
 of the tall clock in its corner in the hall, 
 and the sighing of the autumn wind in 
 the trees without. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke was half-buried in a 
 large arm-chair, whose yielding cushions 
 made him resemble more than ever a cut 
 off giant ; and his pipe-stem legs were 
 supported on a velvet footstool, in the 
 full light of the wax-candles in silver can 
 delabra the light, soft but clear, bring 
 ing out in grand relief the enormous feet 
 in their huge buckled shoes. The gray 
 hair was pushed back for once from his 
 
 forehead ; his eyes were animated ; he 
 seemed to concentrate all the faculties of 
 tiis mind upon the communication being 
 made to him by Lady Brand, who, seated 
 opposite him, spoke in a rapid and some 
 what agitated voice, rising erect occa 
 sionally in her seat, and then leaning 
 back again. 
 
 " I have obeyed your instructions," 
 she said. " This evening Honoria was 
 so composed that I ventured to question 
 her upon the occurrences of that unfor 
 tunate night." 
 
 " Ah ! " came in a low voice from Dr. 
 Vandyke. 
 
 " I was most anxious to do so," con 
 tinued Lady Brand, " for what you pre 
 dicted has duly come to pass. My child 
 is nearly well of her mere physical dis 
 ease, but the terrible melancholy and 
 nervous prostration, which you foretold, 
 have come to torture me and fill me with 
 foreboding. She starts at the least noise ; 
 never smiles, or seems at rest even ; 
 there is a constant tendency to shudder 
 observable in her; and once or twice at 
 the least trifle the movement of a shad 
 ow my suddenly rising from my chair 
 she has half screamed." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke said, quickly : 
 
 " A shadow ? rising from your 
 chair ? " 
 
 a Yes, the shadow of any object 
 thrown upon the curtains or wall by 
 the firelight the lights are often put 
 out, to avoid the glare." 
 
 " Ah ! shadows, then, affright her. 
 Hum ! well. And rising from your 
 chair? What chair?" 
 
 " The large one, in which I sit when 
 not at the bedside." 
 
 " The invalid - chair, with a high 
 back?" 
 
 < k Yes." 
 
 " It remains in its former position? " 
 
 " Yes ; tis really too heavy to be 
 moved easily, and stands, you know, fac 
 ing the fire, with the back to the bu 
 reau." 
 
50 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 "Upon which is the mirror, is it 
 not?" 
 
 " Yes, doctor ; but pray what impor 
 tance can attach to" 
 
 " I will return to that point. Shad 
 ows ! rising from the chair! hum! 
 Will you be good enough to continue, 
 madam? You this evening questioned 
 Honoria : tell me in detail what you have 
 discovered." 
 
 " I shall be able to do so in a few 
 words. The subject seemed to agitate 
 her fearfully, and nothing but your ex 
 press injunction could have induced me 
 to press my questions." 
 
 "Right; but my injunctions were 
 necessary. The mental disease has su 
 pervened. The physical has yielded to 
 treatment; the mental must be treated, 
 too, unless you wish a corpse in your 
 house. What does the child say? " 
 
 " I will tell you succinctly the result 
 of the conversation ; that is, all that I 
 discovered. You know what preceded 
 the attack, and caused it. The young 
 ladies on a visit to us determined to per 
 form the superstitious ceremony of eat 
 ing the dumb-cake, as it is called of 
 looking into a mirror to see their future 
 husbands all absurd, but an old pastime 
 and Honoria was chosen to undergo 
 the ordeal. She acquiesced with great 
 reluctance, but was persuaded to com 
 ply, and courageously went through the 
 ceremony of going in person for a bucket 
 of water to the spot where three streams 
 met, and bearing it to her chamber. It 
 is probable that this agitated her, as the 
 night was dark, and a fearful storm was 
 in progress. She went, however, to the 
 point, a few hundred yards from the 
 house, returned hastily, and, at nearly 
 midnight, gained her chamber." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke listened with absorbed 
 attention. 
 
 "Well," he said, briefly. 
 
 "Having reached her apartment, 
 Honoria proceeded to perform the other 
 ceremonies dictated by this absurd super 
 
 stition, of removing the under-garment 
 next to her body, and dipping one of its 
 sleeves into the bucket." 
 
 "Yes," said Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 " During the performance of all this 
 I mean during the process of undress 
 ing, and preparing to retire Honoria 
 declares that her agitation was very 
 great. It is probable that loss of rest, 
 arising from the late hours kept during 
 the visit of her young guests, may have 
 predisposed her nerves to be thus affect 
 ed ; but it is possible that the storm had 
 been chiefly instrumental in exciting her. 
 Whatever the cause may have been, it is 
 plain, from her statement, that her agi 
 tation was excessive, and that every ob 
 ject around her assumed a threatening 
 and terrifying character. The curtains 
 of the bed took the shape, she declares, 
 of a shroud ; the shadows were terrify 
 ing, and a low breathing issued from the 
 bed, behind which something, she knew 
 not what, seemed to be moving." 
 
 " Something? you say something 
 is vague," said Dr. Vandyke ; " did Ho 
 noria describe in any manner this some 
 thing?" 
 
 " She could not. I laughed, of course 
 told her twas nothing had she seen 
 any thing? to which her agitated re 
 sponse was, that she had seen nothing at 
 all, but saw the curtains move, and heard 
 the breathing." 
 
 "The breathing? Ah! the breath 
 ing! " said Dr. Vandyke, in a low voice ; 
 "this is so persistently alluded to, first 
 in delirium, now in a lucid condition of 
 mind well, decidedly, I begin to think 
 but continue, madam. Honoria heard 
 this low breathing from the bed whose 
 curtains were shroud-like started at the 
 shadows aught more? " 
 
 "But one circumstance, preceding the 
 real terror of the night, which occurred 
 an hour later." 
 
 " That is to say, at about one in the 
 morning?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE AND LADY BRAND. 
 
 51 
 
 "And this circumstance, coming at 
 twelve, to add its effect to the breathing 
 and the shadows?" 
 
 "It was more singular than agitating. 
 I should have enumerated, among the 
 causes of Honoria s agitation, the strange 
 idea that a portrait hanging over the 
 fireplace followed her with its eyes, en 
 joyed her terror, and, at last, stretched 
 out its hand to seize her." 
 
 " The poor child must indeed have 
 labored under nervous excitement. What 
 portrait was it? I did not note it." 
 
 "That of Lord Ruthven father, I 
 believe, of the young nobleman now in 
 Williamsburg." 
 
 " Ah! How does it chance that this 
 portrait is here? " 
 
 "Lord Ruthven the elder was a 
 friend of Colonel Brand s, and presented 
 him, after the European fashion, with 
 his picture." 
 
 "Well; but twas singular that it 
 should adorn your daughter s chamber, 
 was it not ?" 
 
 " That is not the least strange inci 
 dent. Another portrait hung there un 
 til within a day or two of the time of 
 this unhappy incident a portrait of my 
 grandfather, the elder Colonel Seaton. 
 By some means the cord attaching the 
 picture to the hook in the. wall broke, 
 from age and moths, perchance; the 
 picture fell the fall broke the frame to 
 pieces, and thus the portrait could not 
 conveniently be reining in its former 
 position." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke nodded. 
 
 " So you replaced it with another? " 
 
 "Yes, the space on the wall covered 
 by the picture was clearly defined from 
 the rest of the wall, and unsightly. I 
 therefore removed from Colonel Brand s 
 dressing - room the portrait of Lord 
 Ruthven, and hung it in the place of the 
 former." 
 
 " Well ; and this picture was one of 
 the sources of Honoria s terror?" 
 
 "Yes, it seemed to follow her with 
 
 its eyes, and attempt to seize her ; and, 
 added to her other causes of agitation, 
 this nearly unstrung her nerves." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " She rose to her feet, from the chair 
 on which she sat, and, kneeling before 
 which, she had performed her devo 
 tions." 
 
 "The great chair?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Continue, madam." 
 
 "And then it was that, having per 
 formed the ceremony of dipping the 
 sleeve of her under-garment in the buck 
 et, she turned to the mirror, just as the 
 clock struck midnight, to see her future 
 husband." 
 
 "Ah! and she saw ?" 
 
 "The portrait of Lord Ruthven." 
 
 "The portrait!" 
 
 "Yes, doctor. It hung above the 
 fireplace; and the mirror, you know, 
 stands against the opposite wall, the bed 
 being on the right as you go toward it, 
 and the large double window on the left." 
 
 "Yes, yes!" 
 
 "Thus, in looking into the mirror, 
 Honoria saw the reflection of the portrait 
 behind her." 
 
 "Simple and absurd! So the dead 
 Lord Ruthven was to be her future 
 husband, since twas him she saw in the 
 magic mirror?" 
 
 Dr. Vandyke uttered a grunt. 
 
 " We will talk of this at another 
 time," he said. " It is unimportant now. 
 This did not cause Honoria to shriek and 
 faint?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! It simply made her more 
 nervous, but the reflection of the object 
 in the mirror was obviously so natural 
 that it impressed her instantly." 
 
 " Her next proceeding ? " 
 
 " She retired quickly to the great 
 | bed, from which the breathing was no 
 longer heard; and it was about an hour 
 afterward, when she had been asleep for 
 a brief space of time, that the horror of 
 the night came." 
 
52 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke made a slight move 
 ment with his head, and said : 
 
 " We come now to the point of most 
 importance in the case. What was this 
 horror? Relate, as minutely as possible, 
 what occurred." 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 THE HOKROE. 
 
 LADY BRAND paused for some mo 
 ments, and seemed to labor under very 
 great agitation. 
 
 " My poor child ! " she said, at length. 
 " Doctor, you can scarcely conceive how 
 dangerously excited she grew while re 
 lating the last and most terrible events 
 of this horrible night. She became as 
 white as a corpse, her voice was almost 
 hollow in its accent; and, O doctor, 
 doctor ! there was something in the ex- 
 pivssion of her eyes which I did not 
 like I feared" 
 
 " Yes. and justly. Your daughter 
 has narrowly escaped death from brain- 
 fever: what I aim at now is to prevent 
 what is worse than death insanity." 
 
 Lady Brand sobbed for some mo 
 ments, but recovered her self-command 
 at length, and said, firmly : 
 
 "I shall giv r e you the exact substance 
 of Honoria s statement, doctor a state 
 ment made in broken words, as I held 
 her in my arms. She shook with ner 
 vous excitement ; but there is something 
 in being near a mother s heart which 
 calms a child, I think, and gives assur 
 ance of safety. Honoria seemed to feel 
 this, and, spite of her frightful agitation, 
 went through with her narrative up to 
 the moment when she fainted and fell." 
 
 " In front of the mirror? " 
 
 "Yes, doctor." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke knit his brows, and 
 seemed to be concentrating all the facul 
 ties of his mind upon one single idea. 
 
 "Allow me to ask you one or two 
 questions before you proceed," he said. 
 
 The lady inclined her head and lis 
 tened. 
 
 " Has any change been made in the 
 position of the furniture ? " 
 
 "In Honoria s chamber, you mean? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "None at all. Everything remains 
 in the same position which it formerly 
 occupied." 
 
 " Good ! that simplifies matters. Now, 
 madam, let us see. Entering the chamber 
 by the single door for there is but one 
 door, I believe ? " 
 
 "But one," said Lady Brand, indi 
 cating, by the expression of her coun 
 tenance, the surprise which she felt at 
 this apparently irrelevant question. The 
 doctor perceived this expression, and 
 said: 
 
 " I will indicate later the object of 
 these interrogatories. In entering your 
 daughter s apartment you have, immedi 
 ately upon your right, the fireplace ; in 
 front of it the large arm-chair, facing the 
 fire; against the opposite wall the toilet- 
 table and mirror; on the left of the 
 mirror a double window ; on the right 
 the great bed. Is that all, madam ? " 
 
 "With the exception of the ordinary 
 number of chairs, stools, the carpet, and 
 an old linen-chest." 
 
 "A chest? In what part of the 
 room is this chest?" 
 
 " In the corner beyond the fireplace. 
 But it is not used now ; the key has been 
 lost, and the chest has not been opened, 
 I think, for twenty years." 
 
 " Hum ! I care nothing, however, for 
 the chest ; and I have in my mind now a 
 picture of the theatre of this strange 
 drama. A fireplace, with a portrait 
 above it a great chair in front a mirror 
 against the opposite wall a window, a 
 bed, and in this bed Honoria asleep at 
 half an hour or an hour past midnight. 
 What then occurred, madam ? something 
 frightful, I fear, and any scientific pro 
 pensity to sneer or jest dies in rne at the 
 thought of Honoria. This child has seen, 
 
THE HORROR. 
 
 53 
 
 or believes she has seen, something ter 
 rible some object such as the grave 
 gives up when the cerements of the dead 
 are torn away speak, now, and tell me 
 what this horror was ! " 
 
 "I shall proceed to do so," said Lady 
 Brand, in a low and nervous voice. " I 
 have scarce recovered from the shock of 
 the narrative, and recall every particu 
 lar." 
 
 " Good," said Dr. Vandyke, fixing his 
 penetrating eyes on the face of the lady ; 
 "it is precisely these particular details 
 which I wish to ascertain. I know that 
 Honoria saw something was assailed 
 by something, or that she fancied as 
 much and that she shrieked and fainted. 
 "What I wish now to know is the hour 
 of the night, the position she occupied 
 at the moment all and especially what 
 seems trifling and unimportant." 
 
 "You shall know all, doctor, and in 
 as brief terms as possible. Honoria de 
 clares that she retired at a few minutes 
 past midnight, and lay awake for some 
 time, the victim of nervous agitation. 
 The breathing which had so much alarmed 
 her was no longer heard, and the portrait 
 was thrown into shadow now ; but it 
 was some time before she could compose 
 herself sufficiently to sleep. Finally, 
 however, exhaustion brought on slumber, 
 or rather a species of half-consciousness, 
 and she either saw or dreamed that she 
 saw a gigantic and shadowy arm in the 
 hand a dagger and this arm rose and 
 fell three times, striking the weapon into 
 the white garment which Honoria had 
 placed upon the chair." 
 
 "Well," said Dr. Vandyke, coolly, 
 "what next?" 
 
 " The occurrence was so real or the 
 vision so vivid that Honoria declares 
 she must have fainted. When she opened 
 her eyes in a few minutes, as she sup 
 poses the apartment was darker than 
 before, and the storm which had raged 
 up to this time was dying away. All 
 was still, except the far mutter of thunder 
 
 and the low hissing of the expiring fire. 
 It must then have been nearly one in the 
 morning, and Honoria felt a new access 
 of terror at the thought that she alone, 
 in all probability, was awake in the house. 
 By degrees, however, this terror moderat 
 ed ; she began to reason with herself upon 
 the occurrences of the night. Might that 
 all have been the result of her fancy 
 the product of a diseased imagination 
 starting at the simplest noises? The 
 breathing might have been the sighing 
 of the wind in the great oak without 
 the arm striking at the garment a mere 
 effect of light and shadow the strange 
 expression of the portrait undoubtedly a 
 fantasy. Honoria, doctor, is of a very 
 delicate and sensitive organization, but 
 then she is a girl of excellent sense too ; 
 and this process of reasoning upon her 
 fears gradually restored her self-possession 
 and in some degree quieted her nerves." 
 
 The doctor nodded. 
 
 " I know the class to which she be 
 longs," he said, "the nervous-sanguine- 
 lymphatic. Proceed, madam." 
 
 " Honoria reached at last, doctor, 
 a degree of composure which induced 
 her to resolve upon discovering whether 
 there were any grounds for what ap 
 peared to her to be an absurd fancy, if 
 not a dream to ascertain, in a word, 
 whether the garment or the chair were 
 not injured. If the weapon in the hand 
 of the shadow had been a real weapon 
 and had pierced the garment, there must 
 be some hole or rent to show where the 
 point had entered ; if there were none, 
 tli en it was a dream. This resolution she 
 proceeded to carry out. She rose from 
 bed, stole in her bare feet to the spot 
 where the garment hung, raised it in the 
 glimmering half-light from the dying fire, 
 ;ui(l was about to examine it, when there 
 suddenly fell to the floor, with a ringing 
 clash, an antique poniard ! " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke shook his head. 
 
 " The case is worse than I had sup 
 posed," he muttered. 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 Lady Brand continued, with white 
 cheeks now, and a tremor in her voice : 
 
 " The worst of all, the most terrifying 
 event of all was yet to come ! " she said, 
 almost in a whisper. 
 
 The doctor bent forward this time 
 with a fixed and piercing look which 
 indicated that even his ever-firm nerves 
 began to be affected by the strange recital. 
 
 " That is not all, then but I had for 
 gotten ! the horror the weight upon 
 the shoulders ! " 
 
 " You recall the delirious raving of 
 my child, I see ! " said Lady Brand, 
 trembling. "A few words more will 
 tell you all. When the weapon fell, or 
 when Ilonoria thought it fell, she recoiled 
 from the chair, turning her head from it, 
 and covering her face, when suddenly, 
 she declares, some horrible thing or 
 being leaped or fell upon her shoulders 
 clutched her, and, crouching like a cat, 
 gibbered and tore at her with its teeth ! " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke had grown a little pale, 
 and shook his head ominously. 
 
 " What next ? " he said, in a low voice. 
 
 " It was then that Honoria uttered 
 the piercing shriek which attracted her 
 companions to her chamber, and fell 
 fainting upon the floor. After this she 
 remembers nothing." 
 
 " One word before you finish, madam," 
 and Dr. Vandyke knit his brows. " You 
 say that Honoria recoiled from the 
 chair, turning away her head ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Then her back was to the large 
 chair?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Her face to the mirror ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Did she look into the mirror if so, 
 what did she see, or fancy she saw ? " 
 
 " I was about to tell you," said Lady 
 Brand, in the same awe-struck whisper. 
 "The apartment was nearly in total 
 darkness, but Honoria s quick glance 
 toward the mirror showed her a shadowy, 
 crouching thing upon her back a name 
 
 less something of no defined shape then, 
 paralyzed by this final terror, she lost 
 consciousness and fell heavily to the 
 floor." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke remained for some mo 
 ments buried in gloomy meditation. He 
 then raised his head, and uttered a deep 
 sigh. 
 
 " Nothing, of course, was found when 
 the young ladies went to the chamber? " 
 he said. 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " The garment was on the chair still ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " There were no rents in it ? " 
 
 "None." 
 
 " No dagger on the floor ? " 
 
 " None." 
 
 "And Honoria was alone the cham 
 ber had no other occupant ? " 
 
 " I know that there was no one else 
 in the apartment; I reached it almost 
 as soon as the girls, and, thinking that a 
 dog or something else beneath the bed 
 there is no other place of concealment 
 had frightened Honoria, instituted an im 
 mediate search." 
 
 "And there was nothing? " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " The room has no closet? " 
 
 " None, doctor." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke reflected again, preserv 
 ing the same melancholy silence. 
 
 "And this is all, madam ? " 
 
 " All, doctor." 
 
 " You have omitted nothing ? " 
 
 " Nothing whatever that I can recall." 
 
 The doctor uttered something like a 
 groan. 
 
 " God help us! " he muttered. 
 
 " doctor, what do you mean ? " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke looked at the lady with 
 eyes full of pity. 
 
 "I mean, madam," he said, solemnly, 
 " that the inscrutable Power which rules 
 this world and all the worlds has seen 
 fit to visit you with a great misfortune." 
 
 " O doctor, doctor ! speak ! tell 
 me!" 
 
TREATMENT. 
 
 55 
 
 " You are strong, and should know. 
 Honoris lias dormant in her mental or 
 ganization, and in process of develop 
 ment at this moment insanity." 
 
 Lady Brand sobbed hopelessly, cover 
 ing her pale face with her hands. 
 
 "And is there no cure? " she said, in 
 a broken voice. 
 
 " Perhaps," said Dr. Vandyke. " The 
 case is a strange one, madam you see I 
 waste no time in commonplace consola 
 tion, in soothing expressions. Your 
 lady friends will furnish that I am the 
 physician, and this time the physician 
 not only of the body but the mind. I 
 have cured the body nearly the mind 
 remains ; and to cure that will be more 
 difficult. I shall nevertheless do all in 
 rny power, leaving the rest to that all- 
 wise and all-merciful Being disregarded 
 or not believed in by fools and savants, 
 but in whom I believe ; to whom I look, 
 as the first great cause, the arbiter of 
 all." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke rose as he spoke. 
 
 "To-morrow, madam," he said, "I 
 shall make my diagnosis fully, and com 
 mence my treatment." 
 
 XXV. 
 
 TREATMENT. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke came down-stairs 
 on the next morning, he found Lady 
 Brand in the library, and requested her 
 to walk upon the lawn and converse 
 with him for a few moments. 
 
 The lady rose quickly, drying with 
 her handkerchief some tears that were 
 in her eyes, and the two persons walked 
 out beneath the great oaks and disap 
 peared. 
 
 They did not return for an hour. As 
 they came back toward the house, it was 
 obvious, from the expression of Dr. Van 
 dyke s countenance, that the result of 
 the colloquy had been such as to afford 
 him extreme satisfaction. The melan 
 
 choly air which had characterized him 
 on the preceding evening had disap 
 peared ; his demeanor was animated, 
 and he murmured: 
 
 " I know, or think I know ! Now, 
 to find if my knowledge will prove of 
 any avail 1 " 
 
 On the same evening, he went to 
 Honoria s chamber with Lady Brand. 
 The girl lay still and quiet in her great 
 white bed, her eyes dreamy and full of 
 apathy. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke uttered a cheerful laugh. 
 " Well, my dear child," he said, as he 
 approached her, "the roses are coming 
 back to their native soil your cheeks." 
 
 Honoria raised her great eyes, set 
 like stars in the wasted face, and looked 
 at the speaker in a dreamy way. Then 
 she tried to smile, but closed her eyes as 
 though the effort overcame her. 
 
 " I have never seen anybody get well 
 so quickly," said Dr. Vandyke, in a 
 cheery voice. 
 
 Honoria made no reply. 
 
 " You have been quite sick, my 
 child," continued the doctor, in his hearty 
 tone, " and we have all felt much solici 
 tude ; but nothing in this world is un 
 alloyed not even unhappiness. Sick 
 ness has its comforts ; one of these is 
 the sympathy of our friends, and every 
 body has been to see you. Those who 
 could not be admitted, have left mes 
 sages, and my young friend Edmund In- 
 nis commissioned me " 
 
 The pale face suddenly flushed, and 
 the great eyes opened. At that name, 
 some of the apathy disappeared. 
 
 " His message is, that you must soon 
 get well, and 
 
 The doctor bent down and added : 
 
 " He says you are his sunshine, and 
 that lie cannot live in darkness." 
 
 It is to be hoped that this flat false 
 hood was blotted from the book of the 
 recording angel. It caused Iloiioria to 
 look up eagerly, and brought back to her 
 face something almost like animation. 
 
56 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke saw his advantage, and 
 pressed it. 
 
 " Well, little Miss Sunshine," he said, 
 laughing, "I hope you will begin to 
 shine down-stairs very soon now, and, 
 when I return to visit this respectable 
 family, I expect to find you tripping 
 over the lawn, or dancing gavottes and 
 reels to the music of the fiddle." 
 
 Honoria shook her head. 
 
 " You are not going away, doctor ? " 
 she said. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And leave me ? " 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "I am not well," she said, wearily. 
 
 " You will be in a week." 
 
 " No, no ! " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke gazed at her with his 
 subtile and penetrating glance, and from 
 the quiet change in his expression it was 
 evident that he had made up his mind to 
 act promptly and with vigor. 
 
 "Why do you indulge this melan 
 choly mood, my dear child," he said, 
 " you are rapidly recovering. You sleep 
 well, do you not ? " 
 
 " Yes," came in a hesitating voice. 
 
 " No fancies, and imaginary sounds, I 
 suppose no low breathing ha! ha! 
 from behind your bed? " 
 
 Honoria shuddered, closing her eyes. 
 
 " That was the most absurd and 
 laughable idea imaginable," said Dr. 
 Vandyke ; " or at least to be frightened 
 by it. A breathing ! why, there it is 
 now ! " 
 
 Ilonoria half started up. 
 
 " O doctor ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 "What is it? I ll find!" 
 
 And, raising the counterpane, the 
 astute Dr. Vandyke drew forth a small 
 spaniel, the pet of Lou Brand, who 
 had placed the dog there while Honoria 
 was asleep, in compliance with the re 
 quest of the physician. 
 
 Tli at personage burst into a hearty 
 laugh. 
 
 " Well, after all, you were right, my 
 
 dear!" he said, "there was a frightful 
 low breathing Carlo, to wit." 
 
 It could be seen at a glance that this 
 prosaic and commonplace explanation 
 of one source of her nocturnal terror 
 had made a profound impression upon 
 Ilonoria. She did not speak, but her 
 eyes spoke volumes. 
 
 " This habit that dogs have of creep 
 ing under beds to sleep or protect them 
 selves from flies, is one of the greatest 
 objections to making household pets of 
 them," said the doctor. 
 
 And, turning to Carlo, he added, 
 laughing : 
 
 " Come, my interesting young friend, 
 will you be good enough to entertain us 
 by your peculiar wheeze, attributable 
 doubtless to dog-asthma ? " 
 
 As though in response to these 
 words, Carlo, who had stretched himself 
 upon the floor, uttered a low, asthmatic 
 sound, as though he experienced a diffi 
 culty in breathing. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke looked sidewise at Ho 
 noria. She was silent, but he saw that 
 her mind had received the impression 
 which he aimed to produce. 
 
 " Go out now, if you please, -Mr. 
 Carlo," he said, "and play in the sun 
 shine. There is a superb amount of it 
 to-day. And, by-the-by, madam," he 
 continued, addressing Lady Brand, " is 
 there not too much light in this cham 
 ber ? It may be painful to your daugh 
 ter s eyes." 
 
 Lady Brand went to close the blinds. 
 
 "But no," said Dr. Vandyke, " tis 
 better, perhaps more cheerful ; and 
 these shadows moving to and fro on the 
 wall are cool and refreshing. What sin 
 gular shapes they take ! the bough of 
 the great oak yonder resembles an arm 
 grasping a dagger, and, if a good strong 
 wind were to arise, I can fancy that the 
 shadow, especially by moonlight, would 
 appear fearful would become, in fancy, 
 a gigantic arm and poniard raised to 
 strike." 
 
TREATMENT. 
 
 Honoria started again. She was gaz 
 ing at Dr. Vandyke, with her whole soul 
 in her eyes. 
 
 " What are you looking at, my dear 
 child ? " he said, cheerfully. " You really 
 make me afraid with your intense gaze ! 
 Tis as bad as the look of the old fellow 
 up yonder, who has been staring me out 
 of countenance since my entrance. Look 
 at him ! " 
 
 And, taking a broomstick, Dr. Van 
 dyke got up on a chair, thrust the stick 
 into Lord Kuthven s face, and assumed 
 the persuasive attitude of a public lec 
 turer upon science, with accompanying 
 diagrams. 
 
 "Behold the queer conformation of 
 the human eye, so well depicted here ! " 
 he said, poking the portrait in the eye 
 with a movement so awkward that it was 
 wellnigh impossible not to laugh. " It 
 seems to follow you speak to you go 
 to the right or left, it still looks at you 
 stares at you : this absurd, painted, hu 
 man eye! Really, madam," he said to 
 Lady Brand, " I would take this grum 
 and disagreeable fellow out. Did you 
 say the wall was disfigured behind 
 it?" 
 
 He suddenly thrust the picture to one 
 side and showed the wall. 
 
 " See, it is nothing ; remove it, mad 
 am, or each time you enter this room you 
 will have this old Sir Blunderbuss follow 
 ing you with his eyes." 
 
 " I will remove it to-day, doctor, as 
 you suggest." 
 
 " Oh, tis not so important. For my 
 self, all the pictures in the world may 
 stare at me. Shut your stupid eyes, my 
 dear Sir Blunderbuss ! " 
 
 And administering a final poke with 
 the broomstick into the face of the pict 
 ure, Dr. Vandyke descended, laughing, to 
 the floor. 
 
 As he did so, he glanced furflvely at 
 Honoria. She was smiling, either at 
 the absurd antics of the peculiar person 
 age, or with a sense of relief from old 
 
 fears connected with the portrait, thus 
 turned completely into ridicule. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke prepared for the final 
 scene of his acting. Suddenly he mount 
 ed into the great high-backed chair 
 standing in front of the fireplace, leaned 
 his arms on the huge back, rested his 
 enormous head, with its long, elfin gray 
 locks, upon the folded arms, and grinned 
 amiably. His expression was so ludicrous 
 indeed that Honoria uttered a slight 
 laugh. 
 
 A quick glance from Dr. Vandyke 
 toward Lady Brand seemed to warn her 
 that her aid in the performance was 
 now required. She moved to the space 
 between the chair and the mirror, and 
 turned toward the latter, when, with the 
 agility of a cat, Dr. Vandyke bounded 
 over the back of the great chair, and lit 
 upon her shoulder. 
 
 Honoria uttered a scream, and cried : 
 
 " O doctor ! The frightful thing ! 
 the horror ! " 
 
 " The nonsense and tomfoolery, my 
 dear child," said Dr. Vandyke, with a 
 laugh, and lighting on his feet ; " call 
 things by their right names, and let us 
 have done with absurdities." 
 
 Honoria was looking at him witli an 
 imated eyes. A sudden revulsion seemed 
 to have taken place in her feelings a 
 change in her mental condition. There 
 was no longer in her eyes that vacant 
 and apathetic expression which had 
 made the heart of the experienced phy 
 sician sink within him a natural and 
 healthful light began to animate her 
 glance ; the medicine for the mind was 
 having its effect, like the medicine for 
 the body. 
 
 No sooner had Dr. Vandyke descried 
 this longed-for alteration in Honoria, than 
 he said to Lady Brand : 
 
 "I will go and write some letters 
 now, madam, and I think Honoria had 
 best sleep a little. Place the bell beside 
 her hand, and show me where I may 
 write." 
 
58 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 Lady Brand quietly obeyed, and went, 
 toward the door. Dr. Vandyke followed 
 her, but suddenly turned. 
 
 "I had nearly forgotten you, my 
 gruin friend," he said to the portrait of 
 Lord Ruthven. 
 
 And, mounting with agility upon a 
 chair, he placed one foot upon an abut 
 ment of the mantel-piece, and uncere 
 moniously pulled down the fearful por 
 trait, which he tucked under his arm and 
 bore from the apartment. 
 
 As soon as the door was closed, Dr. 
 Vandyke s face assumed its habitual ex 
 pression of coolness, and, taking a large 
 handkerchief from his coat-pocket, he 
 wiped his forehead. 
 
 "Acting fatigues!" he said; "but 
 the end is reached or nearly." 
 
 " Yes, yes, doctor ! " 
 
 He deposited the picture in a corner, 
 and gave it a kick. 
 
 " I would put that rubbish in the gar 
 ret, madam," he said, " and hang above 
 Honoriu s fireplace a flower-piece or 
 cheerful landscape. All depends now 
 upon trifles. Let her reflect, and allow 
 my medicine to work. To-morrow I 
 hope to finish the cure." 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 THE MYSTERY. 
 
 WHEN Dr. Vandyke entered Honoria s 
 chamber, on the next morning, his coun 
 tenance wore the same cheerful and ani 
 mated expression. 
 
 " Well, my dear," he said, " any more 
 shadows breathings, etc., etc. ? " 
 
 A last remnant of nervous agitation 
 passed through the frame of the young 
 lady, but she replied in a sweet and seri 
 ous tone : 
 
 " Oh, no ! I hope these fancies have 
 left me" 
 
 " Ah, ah ! you call them fancies, do 
 you ? That shows that you are cured." 
 
 " They must have been fancies, doc 
 tor ; and yet that strange thing " 
 
 The old shudder came back, and Ho 
 noria s eyes assumed an expression which 
 induced Dr. Vandyke to exclaim : 
 
 " Come, come ! every thing in order. 
 I will come to that 1 " 
 
 "Come to it, doctor?" 
 
 " Yes, my dear, I propose to deliver 
 a brief lecture this morning upon natural 
 phenomena, with the effect produced by 
 them upon the human mind. The term 
 lecture may fright you, but be tranquil. 
 I aim only to explain a circumstance or 
 two. It will be best that you should 
 have this explanation." 
 
 "Yes, doctor." 
 
 " And you feel, I hope, that affection 
 as well as professional duty prompts it ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, indeed ! Something in 
 your face tells me that you have for me 
 that you really love me ! " 
 
 " My face interprets my heart, Hono- 
 ria," said the eccentric physician, with a 
 quick flush ; and, taking in his own the 
 thin, white hand of the girl, he said, 
 earnestly : 
 
 " I loved your mother once, Honoria 
 I mean, was her suitor ; and what bet 
 ter means could I adopt, to prove the sin 
 cerity of my love, than to cure her child ? 
 I have effected this cure, or nearly ef 
 fected it you see that I speak to you 
 as a rational being, which you were not 
 yesterday morning." 
 
 Honoria sobbed. 
 
 "I fear I was not, doctor. Those 
 terrible sights and sounds " 
 
 " Stop, Ilonoria ! No more nervous 
 tremors no more shuddering. Listen 
 to me, and the last remains of your fright 
 will disappear." 
 
 The girl raised her head and gazed at 
 him with deep earnestness. 
 
 "Let us divide the phenomena, or 
 supposed phenomena, into four parts," 
 said Dr. Vandyke, coolly. " You hear a 
 low breathing from the bed in your 
 chamber; the eyes of a picture make 
 
THE MYSTERY. 
 
 59 
 
 you afraid ; a shadow.y dagger strikes at 
 your night - dress ; and some nameless 
 thing leaps on your shoulders. Is that 
 all?" 
 
 " Yes, doctor," was the reply, in a 
 low and nervous voice. 
 
 " Well, now, for elucidation of these 
 terrible phenomena," said the physician. 
 " You repaired to your chamber on the 
 night of the performance of this absurd 
 dumb-cake ceremony, in a high state 
 of nervous excitement, consequent upon 
 terror at the storm through which you 
 had passed, and superstitious fear. Well, 
 the first thing you hear is a mysterious 
 breathing from your bed then a pict 
 ure stares at you then an arm wields a 
 poniard. Let us stop there for the pres 
 ent, and let me ask you if you now 
 doubt the real character of those phe 
 nomena ? The breathing from the bed 
 was the wind, or a dog, or a cat, or 
 nothing! The eyes of the portrait 
 looked at you, as the eyes of all good 
 portraits look at all persons, whatever 
 position is taken up, either to the right, 
 to the left, or in front. Lastly, the gi 
 gantic and frightful arm, grasping the 
 dagger, seen when you were half asleep, 
 and half conscious, was simply the 
 shadow of that bough of the oak yon 
 der through the window, which shadow 
 was cast by the moon, and waved, as 
 the bough waved, in a manner so pecul 
 iarly terrifying that it produced brain- 
 fever. So far you understand, do you 
 not, rny child ? " 
 
 "Yes, doctor," came in a low tone 
 from Honoria, "but " 
 
 " The horror ! the frightful, nameless 
 something the nightmare, bugbear, call 
 it what you will! " 
 
 The doctor burst out laughing, in 
 spite of Honoria s quick shudder. 
 
 " That was the only real part of the 
 whole phenomena," said Dr. Vandyke, 
 coolly. " The thing, or individual, rather, 
 who leaped from that chair, as you saw 
 me leap, was Meta ! " 
 
 Honoria half rose, exclaiming : 
 
 "Meta! doctor?" 
 
 " Meta," was the calm response, " who 
 had hidden herself in this apartment to 
 frighten you during the ordeal of the 
 dumb-cake who may or may not have 
 uttered the low breathing from the bed 
 who certainly did spring upon your 
 shoulders." 
 
 " O doctor ! is it possible ? It can 
 not be that Meta could have been so 
 cruel" 
 
 "Meta is a lunatic, or nearly so," 
 was the calm reply, " and lunatics are 
 both cunning and malevolent." 
 
 " But what motive could she have ? " 
 
 " To frighten you ? " 
 
 " Yes, doctor." 
 
 " Hatred arising from jealousy." 
 
 "Jealousy!" 
 
 Honoria gazed at Dr. Vandyke, as 
 she uttered this word, with profound 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Yes, my child," said the physician. 
 " Listen. As soon as I entered this 
 house, and ascertained the causes of your 
 condition, I concentrated my whole mind 
 upon the question who was it that 
 frightened you not what? A human 
 being must have caused you to fall with 
 that piercing shriek; and the mystery 
 was what human being? No servant 
 would have dared no young lady friend 
 have been so cruel. Thus the irresistible 
 conclusion was, that some idiot, or other 
 weak-minded person, must have been 
 guilty of this act, and there was such a 
 person in the family. So far, the chain 
 of reasoning was perfect; but what 
 motive could exist for the act of this 
 girl, who was supposed to love you? 
 Even with idiots there is a motive, and 
 I questioned Lady Brand, the servants, 
 and all, so closely that I discovered what 
 I wished to know." 
 
 "The motive O doctor what could 
 it have been? Jealousy? Jealousy of 
 mef" 
 
 " Precisely," said Dr. Vandyke ; 
 
60 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 "Meta happens to have fallen in love 
 with a young gentleman named Edmund 
 Innis ; she knows that he loves you 
 there, the words are uttered! she over 
 heard, in the drawing-room, the whole 
 discussion in regard to the dumb-cake, 
 and she hid in this chamber behind the 
 bed watched you in your sleep con 
 cealed herself in this chair saw you 
 rise leaped on your shoulders gibber 
 ing as insane persons do, and, when you 
 shrieked and fell, escaped from the apart 
 ment." 
 
 Honoria drew a long breath, and for 
 some moments remained silent ; at last 
 she murmured : 
 
 " How do you know this, doctor? " 
 
 "From Edmund Innis, who is able 
 to communicate by signs with the girl, 
 and extracted the confession from her." 
 
 Honoria covered her face with her 
 hands. She was quietly weeping. 
 
 "It was cruel in Meta," she mur 
 mured. "I thought she loved me too 
 much to " 
 
 "To love young Master Edmund 
 more?" said the doctor, with a smile. 
 " No, Honoria ; that passion exceeds in 
 force all others is as strong in Meta 
 as in Edmund Innis, only he loves 
 you. 1 
 
 Honoria s face was covered with 
 blushes, but a happy smile shone through 
 her tears. 
 
 " At last ! " said Dr. Vandyke, rising. 
 " You are now well, my dear Honoria ! 
 let me call you dear. I call few so! 
 You are well in body and mind, in heart 
 as in brain. God watch over you, my 
 child, and guard you from all danger, 
 and give you this honest gentleman, 
 Edmund Innis, to be your faithful hus 
 band ! That is rny prayer, Honoria, the 
 prayer of the old dried-up physician who 
 loved once a human being your mother. 
 Farewell now, Honoria! " 
 
 And, stooping, the eccentric person 
 age touched the girl s brow with his 
 lips, left the apartment, and on the same 
 
 evening set out on his return to the 
 capital. 
 
 His patient was cured. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 BEFOKE THE ASSEMBLY. 
 
 SINCE the scenes which we have just 
 described more than three months had 
 passed. It was the depth of winter, and 
 the city of Williamsburg, the capital of 
 Virginia, residence of the viceroy, and 
 centre of fashion for the time, was in all 
 its glory. 
 
 Before a mirror, in an upper apart 
 ment of a house near the governor s 
 " palace," as it was called, Honoria was 
 standing one evening, busily arranging, in 
 multitudinous braids and plaits, the dark 
 locks of Meta, who half reclined, with a 
 delighted expression of countenance, in 
 a velvet arm-chair, gazing at herself in 
 the low-swung mirror. 
 
 Honoria, who stood behind the dark 
 little beauty at her work, was clad in her 
 dressing-gown ; her hair was in disor 
 dered curls upon her shoulders, and her 
 toilet was yet to be made. At a window 
 near stood her sister Lou, in magnificent 
 ball-costume all lace, satin, jewels, and 
 powder erect, superb, turning her head 
 from moment to moment to gaze at the 
 pair in front of the mirror, and beating 
 an impatient tattoo upon the window- 
 pane. 
 
 The last words of Dr. Vandyke to 
 Lady Brand, on leaving " Rivannn," af 
 ter Honoria s convalescence, had been : 
 
 " Madam, if you wish your daughter 
 to regain her roses and lose the mortal 
 pallor you see in her cheeks, take her 
 away from Rivanna. Give her gayety, 
 change of scene, distraction of some 
 kind : what she now requires is forget- 
 fulness." 
 
 Lady Brand had repeated these words 
 to her husband, and that gentleman had 
 responded chin elevated, hand passing 
 
BEFORE THE ASSEMBLY. 
 
 61 
 
 slowly and with dignity between his col 
 lar and his neck : 
 
 " Hum ! ha ! gayety, distraction, 
 change of scene? Well, madam, that 
 comports with my own views. I have 
 affairs of some importance to transact at 
 Williamsburg, and design going thither. 
 You and the young ladies may accom 
 pany me, and make a protracted stay if 
 you desire to do so." 
 
 The affairs of importance were imagi 
 nary. Colonel Brand had long promised 
 himself the luxury of exhibiting the 
 beauty of his daughters in the viceregal 
 capital ; and, greatly alarmed by the 
 now unmistakable attachment between 
 Innis and Honoria, he had already de 
 termined to remove the young lady to 
 new scenes, and, if possible, effect a 
 match between her and some wealthy 
 young scion of the seaboard. Dr. Van 
 dyke s advice, therefore, coincided with 
 his own views. No time was lost in 
 making arrangements for spending the 
 winter with his family in Williamsburg, 
 whither Lady Brand decided to go. A 
 house was procured and furnished ; every 
 article of comfort and luxury sent down ; 
 and, in due time, the old, lumbering 
 chariot, drawn by its four horses, landed 
 the colonel and his family at their " town 
 mansion " in the capital. 
 
 On the evening when we present the 
 young ladies to the reader they were 
 preparing for their first formal ball or 
 " assembly " to take place at the palace 
 of his excellency. Or, rather, Miss Lou 
 Brand had made her preparations, while 
 Honoria, busy with Meta, had not begun 
 her own. 
 
 " For Heaven s sake, Honoria, make 
 haste and have done with Meta ! " ex 
 claimed Miss Lou Brand, at last, out of 
 all patience. u The chariot will be at 
 the door in half an hour, and you ll not 
 be dressed. 1 
 
 "That is time enough, sister," said 
 Honoria, with her habitual smile, full of 
 sweetness, and a little sadness. 
 
 " Time enough ! Who ever heard of 
 a young lady dressing for a ball in thirty 
 minutes? Your hair alone will take an 
 hour ! " 
 
 " If I choose to spend an hour arrang 
 ing it, sister ; but I shall not." 
 
 " But, begin begin ! " 
 
 " Meta s hair is nearly done." 
 
 " Why in the world did you not leave 
 it to one of the maids ? " 
 
 " Meta wished me to arrange it, sis 
 ter, and you know how obstinate the 
 poor child is when she takes a fancy." 
 
 " Yes, I do hateful little creature ! " 
 said Miss Lou Brand, with emphasis. 
 
 " We must make allowance for her 
 infirmity, sister. She is very unfortunate, 
 and has few pleasures. Something I 
 know not what has made her attach 
 great importance to this ball to her ap 
 pearance " 
 
 " Something ! " exclaimed the elder 
 beauty, with a satirical but not ill-na 
 tured laugh ; Lou Brand was incapable 
 of ill-nature. " Something ! you know 
 very well what that something is : Ed 
 mund Innis will be there, and Meta is 
 in love with his lordship, Mr. Wythe s 
 worshipful law-student ! " 
 
 Honoria blushed, and Meta, as though 
 she knew when Innis s name was pro 
 nounced, by the very movement of any 
 one s lips in uttering his name, riveted 
 her eyes with a dark and angry expres 
 sion upon the elder young lady, who 
 thereupon burst into a ringing laugh. 
 
 " The world is full of finesse, secret 
 motives, and things sans Us cartes ! " she 
 cried. " Women, even girls like Meta, 
 are eternally scheming! But, come, 
 come, Honora ! I won t tell you that you 
 too are blushing ha, ha ! but I do tell 
 you that, unless you commence your toi 
 let, you ll not be at the ball." 
 
 " There, there, sister, I ve done," said 
 Honoria, hurriedly. "At least, Meta, 
 poor thing, is pleased ; and, it is so good 
 to make people happy, sister! I ll get 
 ready in a moment." 
 
62 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 And this remarkable young lady, who 
 had forgotten her own hair, to fix a poor 
 girl s, began energetically dressing. 
 
 " No ! " exclaimed Lou Brand, reso 
 lutely, "you shan t throw your things 
 on in that way, Honoria ! If you don t 
 know it, I ll tell you, that you are going to 
 .be the belle of the assembly the centre 
 of all eyes ; and I don t intend to have 
 those hateful old dowagers in turbans, 
 ranged, like sunflowers and hollyhocks 
 gone to seed, along the wall, nodding 
 and tittering behind their fans, and chat 
 tering to each other, and whispering: 
 Just see Miss Honoria Brand, the beau 
 ty ! Did you ever see so frightful a toi 
 let ? No ! " 
 
 And, sweeping toward Honoria, the 
 energetic beauty threw down her pearl 
 fan, took possession of her sister, and 
 busily began dressing her hair, which, 
 under the plastic fingers, soon rose in an 
 exquisite tower of curls, brilliant, pow 
 dered, and interwoven with pearls. 
 
 " Now your hair is something like ! 
 Where is your white satin ? " 
 
 To this abrupt question Honoria re 
 plied, rather timidly : 
 
 " I thought of wearing my blue silk, 
 sister." 
 
 " Your blue silk ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " Did anybody ever hear of such an 
 idea ? You are utterly absurd, Honoria I 
 at the governor s assembly ! " 
 
 " That does not impress me greatly ; 
 and you know I am not a bride, sister." 
 
 "You never will be, either, at this 
 rate, madam ! Your blue silk I You pos 
 itively shall not ! " 
 
 " Well, have it your way, sister : the 
 white satin let it be." 
 
 A maid quickly laid out the gorgeous 
 costume upon a bed ; the young lady s 
 toilet was finished, and her sister, re 
 treating a step, looked at her, with head 
 sidewise, admiringly. Then she rushed 
 at her, rearranged a curl, retied a bow 
 of ribbon, slightly drew a fold of lace 
 
 across one of the snowy shoulders, and 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " You really are a beauty, Honoria ; 
 and will have everybody looking at yon ! " 
 
 Honoria blushed and smiled. What 
 woman could listen to such an observa 
 tion coldly ? She gazed at herself in the 
 glass, and then, as the thought came to 
 her " He will see me," her cheeks grew 
 crimson. In a corner of the chamber, 
 Meta, with her strange, crouching atti 
 tude, was watching her. Miss Lou 
 Brand, who seemed to understand every 
 thing and everybody, turned and looked 
 at her, and quickly ran to her, and seized 
 her arm. 
 
 " Go on, you little wretch, and get 
 into the coach I hear it at the door ! " 
 she exclaimed. 
 
 With which, Miss Lou Brand hustled 
 Meta out of the room, and shut the 
 door. 
 
 " Now I feel more at my ease ! " she 
 exclaimed. " That hateful creature was 
 standing there, glowering at you, dear, 
 and thinking that Edmund Innis would 
 see her, too ! What a goose ! He has 
 no eyes for any one but you ! And now 
 stop blushing, and come on. Your blue 
 silk? Absurd! The white satin! And 
 you shall marry him, and be happy, and 
 wear white as a bride yet, dear ! and I 
 mean to dance at your wedding and let 
 myself be kissed, too, by my brother 
 Edmund ! " 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 THE ASSEMBLY. 
 
 ALL Williamsburg was in commotion. 
 Through the frosty air of the clear win 
 ter night flashed chariots drawn by four- 
 in-hands ; gallant young beaux mounted 
 upon prancing thorough-breds followed, 
 and the capital was all joy, merriment, 
 and uproar. 
 
 Colonel Brand had selected the most 
 opportune season for his visit to the city, 
 and on this night the carnival culmi- 
 
THE ASSEMBLY. 
 
 63 
 
 nated. Hitherto the days had been full 
 of pleasure and enjoyment ; balls, races, 
 tea - driiikings, riding - excursions, and 
 card-parties, had been the order of the 
 day ; but these were all thrown in the 
 shade by the coming " assembly." 
 
 Colonel Brand s chariot stopped be 
 fore the great gate of the governor s 
 palace, in front of which a crowd of 
 motley character had assembled to look 
 at the richly-dressed beauties, as they 
 descended from their vehicles; and up 
 the broad walk, edged with Scottish lin 
 dens, from which were suspended colored 
 lanterns to light the guests, the colonel 
 and his family advanced, and entered the 
 broad door. 
 
 In the large apartment, adorned with 
 full-length portraits of the kjng and 
 queeii, the crowd was already great, and 
 it would be difficult to convey an idea 
 of the brilliance of the spectacle. Silk, 
 velvet, lace, and jewels, caught and threw 
 back in dazzling splendor the light of 
 the great chandeliers overhead, and the 
 stately gentlemen and smiling beauties 
 of an epoch famed for such, were min 
 gled in one great crowd, rich-colored as 
 the dream of some grand painter. So 
 norous music rang ; the buzz of conver 
 sation mingled with it; and in the centre 
 of the apartment his smiling excellency 
 the royal governor received and bowed 
 low to his guests with his well-known 
 urbanity and elegance. 
 
 lie was leaning on the arm of his 
 confidential secretary, Lord Ruthven, 
 who, pale, clad in a rich but sombre cos 
 tume, and with his black hair only slight 
 ly powdered, surveyed the company 
 with courteous but stately attention. 
 Despite obvious efforts, however, Ruth 
 ven scarcely smiled ; something plainly 
 bore heavily on this man s heart. In 
 fact, the melancholy young nobleman 
 had never ceased to be haunted by his 
 possessing thought, his mysterious dread. 
 Remaining in Virginia only at the ex 
 press and repeated request of the gov 
 
 ernor, he had never lost the apprehen 
 sion which rendered his life miserable; 
 and, on this evening, resembled, in his 
 black costume, with his dark eyes set 
 in his pale face, a veritable "death s 
 head at the feast." 
 
 Suddenly the governor felt a convul 
 sive pressure upon his arm ; and Lord 
 Ruthven, who had grown as pale as a 
 corpse, whispered in a low voice in his 
 ear: 
 
 "Who is she, my lord?" 
 
 The governor turned and looked at 
 the speaker. His eyes were distended, 
 and his finger indicated a young lady 
 who had just entered. 
 
 "What ails you, Ruthven?" the 
 governor said, in great astonishment. 
 
 "Who is she?" repeated Ruthven, 
 in the same tone. 
 
 The governor followed the direction 
 of the trembling finger, and said : 
 
 " The young lady in white satin, with 
 pearls in her hair? " 
 
 "Yes, my lord." 
 
 "Miss Brand the daughter of my 
 friend Colonel Brand. Your solitary 
 way of living alone accounts for your 
 ignorance, my dear Ruthven." 
 
 " Brand ! Brand ! " murmured Ruth- 
 ven, in a voice almost inaudible ; " my 
 father had a friend a Colonel Brand." 
 
 " Tis the same ; and Miss Brand is a 
 beauty, is she not? Nay, there are two 
 beauties in the family. See! that toll 
 damsel is also a daughter of the colonel. 
 They are approaching. Here they are. 
 Let me present you." 
 
 "No! no!" exclaimed the young 
 nobleman, almost fiercely, " not for the 
 universe never! that is I mean 
 pardon me, my lord, I am not well to 
 night and another time " 
 
 The governor had not time to think 
 of these singular words, or even to look 
 at the speaker. Colonel Brand was 
 within a few feet of him, accompanied 
 by the Indies of his family, and it was 
 utterly impossible for Ruthven to retire 
 
64 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 without obvious and gross discourtesy. 
 With one hand, the governor, in fact, 
 detained him, the other hand grasped 
 Colonel Brand s, and the host cordially 
 welcomed his guest, and was presented 
 to the ladies. 
 
 Ruthven was on the point of tearing 
 himself away ; his agitation was fright 
 ful, and he seemed to have lost all self- 
 control. In the midst, however, of the 
 sort of vertigo which had seized upon 
 him, lie heard the governor say: 
 
 " Miss Brand, may I have the honor 
 of presenting my friend Lord Ruth 
 ven ? " 
 
 The young nobleman bowed low, 
 raised his hand to his breast, as though a 
 sudden pain assailed him, uttered some 
 hurried words, and, in spite of every ef 
 fort of the governor to detain him, retired 
 from the spot, and sought to leave the 
 apartment. This, however, was no 
 easy task. The crowd had become so 
 dense that to make way through it was 
 almost impossible. He found the way 
 barred on every hand, could only move 
 to and fro, borne like a leaf on the waves 
 of silk and velvet, and a sudden move 
 ment of the mass almost made him lose 
 his balance. In regaining it, he placed 
 his foot on a young lady s train ; the 
 young lady moved at the same instant, 
 and the consequence was that the satin 
 train was rent nearly in twain. 
 
 The instincts of the gentleman 
 triumphed over the cruel agony of the 
 individual, and Lord Ruthven, bowing 
 low, exclaimed : 
 
 " A thousand pardons, madam, for 
 my awkwardness ! " 
 
 "It is nothing, sir! do not annoy 
 yourself the crowd is so great " 
 
 And the beautiful eyes of Honoria 
 were fixed upon Lorcl Ruthven s face a 
 smile upon the bright lips. As she 
 looked at him, his own sombre glance 
 met the young lady s, and he shuddered. 
 
 Honoria had gathered up the torn 
 skirt, thrown it over her snowy arm, 
 
 and now repeated, in her frank and sim 
 ple voice : 
 
 " It is impossible to avoid these ac 
 cidents, I assure you, my lord, in such 
 crowded rooms, and this will not incon 
 venience me at all." 
 
 " But in dancing there is a minu 
 et" 
 
 The words were forced from the lips 
 by a tremendous effort. Honoria did 
 not seem to observe the fact ; her little 
 red-heeled slipper was beating time de 
 lightedly to the stately music. 
 
 " Oh, I shall dance, I assure you, in 
 spite of it." 
 
 The die was cast. It was a fatal, 
 necessity, in accordance with the eti 
 quette of the time, that Lord Ruthven 
 should solicit the young lady s hand for 
 the minuet. He did so in a voice which 
 those who knew him would have scarce 
 recognized as his own. Honoria made 
 him a little courtesy of delighted assent, 
 and in a moment they were dancing to 
 gether in the stately menuet de la cour. 
 It was fortunate that nearly all eyes were 
 fixed upon the little "Brand beauty," as 
 Honoria began to be called ; upon her fair 
 face full of happy smiles bent toward her 
 bosom in the low courtesy the slender 
 figure moving with exquisite grace the 
 beautiful eyes, dancing with youthful 
 joy beneath the piled-up curls, the pow 
 der, and the interwoven pearls. The 
 figure of the girl was sunshine incarnate 
 the figure of Ruthven in his dark 
 dress, shadow. Innis, looking at them 
 from a corner of the apartment for he 
 had returned to Williamsburg even after 
 Colonel Brand s arrival, and was one of 
 the guests on this night Innis, gazing 
 at them, not without some trouble in his 
 frank face, felt a sort of shudder, in 
 presence of the funereal partner of his 
 idol. 
 
 The stately minuet bowed itself 
 through its splendid evolutions, and came 
 to an end. Lord Ruthven stopped sud 
 denly ; remained as motionless as a fig- 
 
THE ASSEMBLY. 
 
 05 
 
 lire of black marble for an instant, then, 
 with a visible tremor of his nerves, of 
 fered Honoria his arm, and was lost 
 again in the crowd. 
 
 " The music of his excellency is ad 
 mirable you are fond of dancing Miss 
 Brand?" 
 
 His voice had the same forced tones 
 tones almost convulsive. 
 
 "Very fond, my lord," said Honoria, 
 wondering at the evident agitation of 
 her companion. 
 
 " And the gavotte the reel the lat 
 ter, I think, is our own Scottish reel ? " 
 
 " We call it the Virginia reel already, 
 and it is even a greater favorite than the 
 minuet." 
 
 " It is natural that the ladies of Vir 
 ginia then should prefer their own dance, 
 Miss Brand. And you are a native of 
 Virginia, I believe ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, my lord." 
 
 " You have never visited England 
 Scotland I mean the Old World? " 
 
 He looked at her with singular in 
 tensity as he spoke, and seemed to await 
 her reply with very extraordinary agita 
 tion. 
 
 " I have never been out of Virginia 
 in my life, sir," said Honoria, and, laugh 
 ing with the frankness and simplicity 
 which made her so charming, she added : 
 
 "I should think you might know so, 
 my lord, by my provincial air and ap 
 pearance." 
 
 " By no means Miss Brand is wholly 
 mistaken. Your father, however, has vis 
 ited the Old World was a friend, I think, 
 of my own father, the late Lord Ruth- 
 ven. Then we two should be friends." 
 
 Why he uttered the words he could 
 never understand. He did not mean 
 them, for Ruthven had registered a sol 
 emn oath to leave the city of Williams- 
 burg on the very next day. 
 
 The interview lasted but a few mo 
 ments longer. Suddenly Honoria said, 
 with a little flutter in her voice, to some 
 one: 
 
 " I am very glad to see you ! " 
 
 And, raising his eyes, Ruthven saw. 
 within three paces of him, Edmund In- 
 nis. 
 
 The young man, who had bowed low 
 over the little hand which Honoria held 
 out to him, made a bow also to Lord 
 Ruthven. 
 
 "I am pleased to find that your lord 
 ship has recovered," he said. 
 
 Innis held the hand of Ilonoria still, 
 as he spoke; and Ruthven gazed with 
 an indescribable expression upon tlib 
 graceful figures of the youth and maiden, 
 as they were grouped thus under the brill 
 iant chandelier. 
 
 " Yes many thanks, sir yes, T have, 
 I believe, recovered, and you linve re 
 turned to the capital, Mr. Innis ? " 
 
 " To prosecute my studies, my lord. 
 I design becoming a counsellor one of 
 these days." 
 
 "May your lot be happy, sir," Ruth 
 ven said, "though I shall not have the 
 opportunity to witness your forensic 
 triumphs. I shall return on the next 
 vessel to Europe." 
 
 " Indeed, my lord ! " 
 
 " Yes, I am under the necessity of so 
 doing." 
 
 Innis had offered Honoria his ann, 
 Lord Ruthven having released the young 
 lady. 
 
 "Your lordship will not set out for 
 Europe, I hope," said Honoria, smiling, 
 "without culling to see us my father 
 will be happy, I am sure, to see the son 
 of his friend the late Lord Ruthven. 1 
 
 The young nobleman bowed low. 
 Before he was aware of the words which 
 he was uttering, he said : 
 
 " I shall be very happy to pay my 
 respects to Colonel Brand and yourself, 
 Miss Brand." 
 
 With a second bow he was lost in 
 the crowd, and ten minutes afterward 
 he had left the ballroom, and gained his 
 lodgings. 
 
66 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 LINKS OF THE CHAIN. 
 
 FERGUS was in the chamber, silent, 
 erect, and respectful. His master threw 
 himself into a chair, and said, in a hoarse 
 voice : 
 
 "Fergus, I have seen the woman! " 
 
 "The woman, my lord?" was the 
 cool reply, " and what is she like ? " 
 
 " Like ? Good Heavens ! beautiful, 
 very beautiful, and like like the 
 spectre ! " 
 
 For some moments a deep silence 
 reigned in the apartment. Lord Ruth- 
 ven then said, in the same low, hoarse 
 voice : 
 
 " We go to-morrow ! " 
 
 "To Europe, my lord?" 
 
 " Yes ! " 
 
 " Good, my lord." 
 
 " There is a vessel ? " 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 "Heaven grant it! " 
 
 " And this time your lordship is de 
 termined really to go? " 
 
 " Resolutely determined ! " 
 
 Fergus made a movement of his head, 
 and began folding the articles of his 
 master s wardrobe and laying them care 
 fully in a huge trunk, in one corner of 
 the apartment. 
 
 For some moments Lord Ruthven 
 remained perfectly silent, his breast 
 heaving. 
 
 " I tried to avoid her to avoid mak 
 ing her acquaintance ! " he muttered, 
 " but Fate forced it upon me ! " 
 
 "Eh?" grunted Fergus, dryly, con 
 tinuing to pack the trunk. 
 
 " It happened as before in the case 
 of the man." 
 
 "Your lordship means young Mr. 
 Innis ? " 
 
 u Yes. That was what is called an 
 accident. This, too, was an accident." 
 
 "Do you believe in accidents, my 
 lord ? " 
 
 " Nor I. There are none." 
 
 "None, and yet to think that, despite 
 every effort, I am thrown with these 
 people ! Does it not seem strange? " 
 
 " Every thing is strange in this world, 
 my lord. But I am glad we are going." 
 
 * Yes, yes, we will go ! Nothing 
 shall withhold me. Cursed Fate that 
 drives me ! Oh, why, Fergus, am I not 
 a poor common mortal like the rest of 
 my kind ? Why am I the exception, the 
 anomaly, the one being denied all happi 
 ness ? " 
 
 "Your lordship speaks mysteriously. 
 You would say " 
 
 Lord Ruthven was silent again, and 
 slowly his pale face flushed. 
 
 "I mean," he said, in a low tone, 
 " that were I not Ruthven, and therefore 
 accursed, I might possibly who 
 knows? find some solace, some happi 
 ness, in " 
 
 He stopped, and knit his brows. His 
 eyes were fixed upon the floor. His face 
 filled with blushes. 
 
 " She is very beautiful ! " he said, as 
 though to himself. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the ex 
 pression of Fergus, as he listened to this 
 unmistakable avowal. The old face 
 assumed an air of scorn, of pity, of ap 
 prehension, of affection, wonderful to 
 see. He stopped packing the trunk, and, 
 looking at his master intently, said : 
 
 " Is your lordship really going to 
 morrow ? If not, twill be useless to 
 continue these preparations." 
 
 "Going? Certainly I am going!" 
 exclaimed Lord Ruthven, almost angrily ; 
 "what made you dream that I was not 
 really going? " 
 
 " I did not dream it, I thought it; and 
 what made me think it was experi 
 ence ! " said Fergus, coolly. 
 
 "Experience ! what do you mean? " 
 
 " I mean, my lord, that you said you 
 were going before when you first saw 
 the man and. you did not go ! " 
 
 " You know why I did not go be- 
 
LINKS OF THE CHAIN. 
 
 67 
 
 cause I could not, and the man went 
 away ! And I will add that it is dis 
 agreeable to me to be thus catechised ! " 
 
 An angry scowl accompanied the 
 words. Fergus stopped suddenly, and 
 turned to his master with a strange mix 
 ture of offence and mortification upon 
 his old weather-beaten face. 
 
 Kuthven for a moment said nothing. 
 His heavy breathing was audible in the 
 silence. Suddenly he rose, went to 
 Fergus, and seized his hand in his own 
 
 "Forgive me, Fergus my poor, good 
 Fergus ! poor, since you have so unhappy, 
 so wayward and unjust a master! For 
 give me, old friend I am mad, I think, 
 to wound thus the only heart on earth 
 that beats true to me ! But I have been 
 unnerved to-night I scarce know what 
 I say. That face! that smile! the lips, 
 the hair, all they were the same, the 
 very same, Fergus ! There was no room 
 for doubt I have seen her, heard her 
 tis she ! And listen, Fergus! I was 
 fool enough to promise to call and pay 
 her my respects. Do not sneer at your 
 poor master ! I was weak, but I will be 
 strong. That promise binds me I will 
 see her for ten minutes, but first my pas 
 sage will be taken to Europe then I will 
 go I will go I will leave this cursed 
 soil, and, with the blessing of Heaven, 
 will set my foot upon it no more! " 
 
 " Heaven grant that your lordship 
 may keep your vow ! " 
 
 " Oh, be not uneasy; I will keep it." 
 
 Fergus inclined his head. 
 
 "Your lordship knows one thing 
 that, whether in Europe or Virginia, he 
 possesses the heart of Fergus, who will 
 live or die with him ! " 
 
 On the next morning, Fergus had 
 made all his arrangements: packed all 
 the trunks, paid all his master s ac 
 counts, and went to engage their pas 
 sage in a vessel to sail that very night 
 for England. 
 
 A few moments before, his master 
 
 had gone to pay his first and last visit to 
 Colonel Brand and his family. 
 
 In three or four hours Fergus came 
 back. The vessel would not sail for four 
 days. His master had not returned ; he 
 only reentered his lodgings toward mid 
 night, having dined and spent the even 
 ing with Colonel Brand, who was great 
 ly interested in the news from Scotland. 
 
 Fergus shrugged his shoulders, and 
 said nothing. When he announced the 
 delay in the vessel s sailing, Ruthven said, 
 simply, in an absent way : 
 
 " Tis well, Fergus." 
 
 " I thought to hear Tis ill ! " mut 
 tered the old servant ; " and now, Tis 
 well ! " 
 
 Colonel Brand had requested Ruthvcii 
 to call, before his departure, and receive 
 some letters he designed writing to 
 friends in Scotland. The young noble 
 man accordingly did so on the very 
 next day and, as before, remained until 
 late in the evening, conversing this time 
 almost exclusively with Honoriu. AYhi ii 
 he returned homeward, he might have 
 been heard muttering : 
 
 " And, if Fergus was right in his in 
 credulity! if I do not go! twould be 
 frightful ! fearful ! Does Fate drag me ? 
 Oh, but I will go ! I will go ! I swear 
 it! r 
 
 As Colonel Brand s letters were not 
 written, it was necessary that Lord Ruth- 
 ven should repeat his visit. He went 
 thither on the next day on the next 
 and, to come to the result, announced 
 finally to Fergus, in a tone of voice im 
 possible to convey to the reader, that he 
 had changed his resolution: he would 
 not sail for Europe. 
 
 Fergus simply bowed his head, sup 
 pressing the groan which rose to his lips 
 until his master left the room. Then he 
 uttered a species of moan, and muttered: 
 
 " Have mercy upon us, O Lord ! but 
 may I live and die with my poor mas 
 ter ! " 
 
 A month passed. Lord Ruthven and 
 
68 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 Fergus had never again alluded to the 
 projected journey to Europe. The no 
 bleman spent the greater part of his time 
 in his chamber, motionless, in a sort of 
 trance ; only, from time to time, he 
 looked, in a singular manner, over his 
 shoulder, as though some frightful object 
 haunted him. His private talks with 
 Fergus had abruptly ceased. At times 
 his eyes would meet those of the old ser 
 vant, and a glance, full of gloomy mean 
 ing, would be exchanged between them. 
 But the pale lips did not open. The old 
 clansman only nodded, uttering deep 
 sighs, intent upon one thing only now 
 implicit obedience to his chief. 
 
 When a month had passed in this 
 manner, Lord Ruthven, who had grown, 
 if possible, paler and more haggard than 
 before, said one morning to the old ser 
 vant : 
 
 " Fergus, order my coach." 
 
 Fergus bowed, and went to obey. 
 
 " It has come at last ! " he muttered. 
 " The bonny bridegroom is going to his 
 bridal!" 
 
 XXX. 
 
 THE TWO RIVALS. 
 
 A MONTH ! a moment, an age ; an 
 atom of time, an eternity ! A month 
 in which the idler dawdles through the 
 dull and colorless days, each flying, 
 eventless, in the wake of each; in 
 which, too, the good ship encircles one- 
 half of the world ! A month in which 
 existences fill with sunshine, or are sunk 
 in shadow ; in which hearts break, and 
 griefs are assuaged ; in which all things 
 come to us, or all things leave us, mak 
 ing us happy or miserable, as the kind 
 Father of all decrees! Fatal days and 
 hours, in which the tide ebbs and flows! 
 I know nothing more remorseless, more 
 paralyzing to the reason, than this cer 
 tainty of the uncertain this ignorance 
 of what a day may bring forth ! 
 
 This month, over which we have 
 
 glided, brought Lord Ruthven as a suit 
 or to the feet of Honoria Brand. In 
 spite of every effort which the young 
 nobleman made to tear himself away 
 from her, he gravitated ever nearer, 
 more and more surely ; one by one his 
 fears were dissipated, his resolutions un 
 dermined and overthrown. He had 
 fallen passionately in love with the little 
 " Brand beauty ; " and on this morning 
 was bent upon formally asking her hand 
 of her father. 
 
 Honoria and Innis had witnessed this 
 misfortune with inexpressible agony. 
 So far from becoming indifferent to Ed 
 mund, in consequence of the thousand 
 gayeties and distractions which sur 
 rounded her, Honoria had felt her affec 
 tion for the youth increase with every 
 passing hour. With natures like that of 
 this young girl, faith and constancy are 
 instincts trial only strengthens them ; 
 use brightens and tempers the metal, as 
 fire tests gold. To have Lord Ruthven, 
 therefore, appear as a suitor, was an in 
 expressible pain to her to Innis it was 
 almost paralysis. And, worst of all, he 
 could do nothing. What could he do? 
 For the youth, almost penniless, to as 
 pire to the hand of the wealthy and 
 beautiful young heiress, was, of itself, 
 sufficiently presumptuous ; but, to go 
 to Colonel Brand and say : " I love 
 Honoria, and, for that all-sufficient rea 
 son, ask you to refuse the proposed alli 
 ance with Lord Ruthven, and give her to 
 me | that was little less than insanity. 
 Pride was the master-passion of the colo 
 nel the ambition of seeing his daugh 
 ter make a great match ; and now, when 
 this match was offered, when Honoria 
 could become my Lady Ruthven, the 
 wife of a nobleman, Colonel Brand was 
 to be expected to say, "My daughter 
 cannot wed your lordship. I reserve 
 her for a poor, obscure little cousin of 
 ours!" 
 
 The result was, that Innis was wretch 
 ed, and Honoria was not happier. She, 
 
THE TWO RIVALS. 
 
 69 
 
 saw the fate coming could find 
 
 ray of hope. All that these young 
 earts could do, in their unhappy situa 
 tion, was to love each other more and 
 more, comfort each other with expres 
 sions of hope in which they did not be 
 lieve, and await the intervention of that 
 good Providence which, watching over 
 the sparrows, watches much more over 
 pure hearts, loving and faithful to each 
 other. 
 
 On this morning, when we have heard 
 Lord Ruthven order his coach, Innis and 
 Honoria were conversing in the drawing- 
 room ; and the poor youth had spoken 
 of the probable fate to befall them, with 
 mingled pride, suffering, and courage. 
 In the midst of their conversation, a 
 chariot stopped before the door, a knock 
 was heard, and the voice of Lord Ruth- 
 ven asked for Colonel Brand. The ser 
 vant was then heard replying that his 
 master was not at home, whereupon 
 Lord Ruthven asked for Miss Honoria, 
 was informed that she was in, and en 
 tered the drawing-room. 
 
 As his eyes fell upon the young lady 
 and Innis* Ruthven turned visibly paler, 
 and his agitation was obvious. He, 
 nevertheless, advanced calmly into the 
 apartment, bowed with cordial courtesy, 
 and, offering his hand to Innis, said : . 
 
 " I have not had the pleasure of see 
 ing you for some weeks, Mr. Innis." 
 
 Innis returned his salutation with 
 calmness, and said : 
 
 " My books have taken np my atten 
 tion greatly, my lord ; and then I fear 
 you attach little pleasure to our meeting 
 the first time was unfortunate, and you 
 doubtless owe me a grudge." 
 
 "For my fall? By no means, sir; 
 and I do not regret it, since it gave me 
 the pleasure of your acquaintance." 
 
 There was something sincere and 
 courteous in the voice of Ruthven. His 
 melancholy was ineradicable, but the 
 new influence operating upon his char 
 acter seemed to have made his disposi 
 
 tion more frank and kindly. Innis bowed, 
 and said : 
 
 "Your lordship alludes with great 
 courtesy to what I shall always lament." 
 
 And, having exchanged these polite 
 commonplaces, the gentlemen sat down. 
 
 Honoria s cheeks were burning, and 
 she kept her eyes fixed upon the carpet, 
 scarce raising them as she replied to the 
 commonplace phrases of Lord Ruthven. 
 That gentleman was much too well bred 
 to appear to notice the evident constraint 
 of the young lady s manner ; and thus 
 half an hour passed, at the end of which 
 time Lord Ruthven rose, begged that 
 Honoria would present his compliments 
 to the family, bowed, first to the young 
 lady, and then to Innis, and left the 
 house. 
 
 Innis resumed his seat, and for some 
 time gazed in silence upon the floor. 
 
 " There is no longer any room for 
 doubt," he said at length, with the calm 
 ness of despair. 
 
 "To doubt, Edmund?" murmured 
 the young girl, faintly. 
 
 "In what character Lord RutUven 
 comes hither," said Innis ; " tis as a 
 suitor for your hand, Ilonoria." 
 
 Ilonoria covered her face with her 
 hands and sobbed. The poor child had 
 no words to reply she knew that denial 
 was vain. 
 
 "Am I mistaken in so thinking?" 
 said Innis. " You know this, as I do, do 
 you not ? " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 And a second sob followed the de 
 spairing monosyllable. 
 
 " His suit will prosper. You will be 
 his wife, Honoria! Your father will 
 never permit you to reject a nobleman 
 of his high position ! He is worthy of 
 you, too anger shall not make me un 
 just. But, worthy or unworthy, the die 
 is cast ! " 
 
 " Oh, no ! I will never, never con 
 sent ! " sobbed the girl. 
 
 " How can you resist ? " said Innis. in 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 despair. "Your father s will is strong 
 enough to break down your own. He 
 will disregard your opposition and de 
 clare that you know not what is best for 
 you. In his eyes, you will be but a coy 
 and romantic girl, unable to choose your 
 destiny aright." 
 
 Ilonoria sobbed out, in a helpless 
 voice : 
 
 " O Edmund, Edmund, he cannot, 
 will not, force me to so miserable a 
 union. Lord Ruthven is a gentleman 
 worthy of esteem ; but to marry him 
 would make me wretched, and I will tell 
 papa so ! He is not so hard, it may be, 
 as you think him, Edmund. He loves 
 me, and when I tell him that I love 
 you only am yours, in the sight of 
 Heaven that I have no other heart " 
 
 The poor, faltering voice broke down. 
 In a faint whisper she added : 
 
 " Oh, he will not make me so wretch 
 ed!" 
 
 Innis shook his head. 
 
 " You do not know what men are 
 made of, my poor darling they are very 
 hard. The heart is very hard when the 
 hair is gray, and the blood cold. They 
 find excellent reasons, then, for separat 
 ing young hearts money, position, pru 
 dence, is the text of their discourse ; 
 and I know not if I should blame them 
 if, in Colonel Brand s situation, I should 
 act otherwise." 
 
 " Oh, no ! do not speak so ! I will 
 never, never become Lady Ruthven ! " 
 
 The words seemed to pierce Innis 
 like a weapon, coming thus from Hono- 
 ria s lips, and his brows were suddenly 
 knit. 
 
 "Lady Ruthven! Are you so sure," 
 he said, groaning, " that the difference 
 between plain Mrs. Edmund Innis and 
 my Lady Ruthven will not have some in 
 fluence on you even ? " 
 
 "Edmund," she exclaimed, "this is 
 cruel, very cruel in you ! Tis unworthy 
 of you to so wound a poor girl who is 
 unhappy enough already ! " 
 
 "Yes, doubtless tis cruel, unworthy; 
 but I am so wretched ! How can I see 
 my happiness, more than my life, at 
 stake, and keep my senses ? Maidens 
 have lived who have shrunk under this 
 sore temptation who, when called upon 
 to choose between a poor youth and a 
 wealthy nobleman, have forgotten all but 
 the splendor upon one side and the pov 
 erty on the other. But, God keep me 
 from classing you with such, Honoria! 
 I am as certain of your faith as I am of 
 my own existence I know that, if your 
 hand be tied to this gentleman s by a 
 mockery, your heart would not go with 
 it I know all that, Honoria ; I trust you 
 as I would trust an angel but what is 
 the result for me ? what can I do ? All 
 is dark before me ! I can do nothing " 
 
 Innis bowed his head, and, for a mo 
 ment, no sound was heard but the sobs 
 of Honoria. 
 
 Suddenly Innis rose erect, and a 
 glance at his face indicated that, in this 
 single instant, he had come to a fixed 
 resolution. 
 
 "Listen, my poor, dear Honoria! 
 my only hope in life ! A man can only 
 fail. When he has done his best, and is 
 crushed, he can still fall with honor, and 
 with some solace in his misery ! I will 
 formally ask your father for his daugh 
 ter s hand. Should he refuse, then " 
 
 The door opened as Innis was speak 
 ing, and Colonel Brand entered the 
 apartment. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 THE INTEEVIEW. 
 
 COLONEL BRAND was clad in full dress 
 embroidered coat, gold threaded waist 
 coat, velvet short-clothes, silk stockings, 
 ruffles, and powder. His air was even 
 more stately than when at Rivanna his 
 reception by the governor, and the suc 
 cessful debut of his beautiful daughters, 
 having, in no small degree, heightened 
 his consequence in his own eyes. 
 
THE INTERVIEW. 
 
 He bestowed a bow, full of stately 
 politeness, upon Innis, and, passing his 
 fingers, after his habitual fashion, be 
 tween his neck and cravat, with a lofty 
 air, said a few words to Honoria. The 
 young lady replied in a trembling voice ; 
 and, finding that her self-possession was 
 leaving her that, if she remained lon 
 ger, she would probably burst into tears 
 abruptly left the apartment. 
 
 Colonel Brand followed her with his 
 eyes their expression indicating unmis 
 takable astonishment. He turned sud 
 denly to Innis with some hauteur, and 
 found that the young man had resumed 
 his seat, thus manifesting a plain inten 
 tion not to take his departure. The hau 
 teur was succeeded by a glance of cold 
 surprise. The colonel sat down in a 
 great arm-chair, and, settling his chin in 
 his ample white cravat, looked at Innis 
 with the air of one who says, " Well, 
 sir, what have you to say to me ? " 
 
 The youth courageously returned the 
 haughty glance of his companion for 
 wretchedness had quite dulled his nerves 
 and said : 
 
 "I beg a few words with you, sir, 
 upon a matter of great importance to 
 me." 
 
 His voice was calm and measured 
 the tremor of the tones almost entirely 
 imperceptible. 
 
 " A matter of importance, sir ? " said 
 the colonel, coldly inclining his head; " I 
 am at your service." 
 
 " I wish to ask your consent to my 
 marriage with Honoria." 
 
 The words were quickly uttered, but 
 they seemed to have upon Colonel Brand 
 the effect of a blow. 
 
 "Your marriage! with Honoria!" 
 he gasped, thrown completely from his 
 balance, and losing all his self-possession. 
 
 " With Honoria, sir." 
 
 " Are you mad, sir ! " came, in the 
 same gasp of utter astonishment, from 
 the colonel. u What has put so crazy a 
 thought into your mind, sir ? It is an ut 
 
 ter absurdity a piece of madness ! Your 
 proposal is astounding, sir! it shocks 
 me beyond words I " 
 
 Innis was silent. With a heightened 
 color and a stern compression of the lips, 
 he braced his strength against the com 
 ing storm. 
 
 " Yes, sir ! I use the proper word 
 your words shock me ! Marriage with 
 my daughter Honoria! Good Ileay- 
 ens!" ^ 
 
 u I had supposed that you had seen, 
 perhaps, reason to anticipate this request, 
 sir." 
 
 The colonel grew purple anger be 
 gan to take the place of astonishment. 
 
 " That I had seen xecn rcaspn ? Ye* 
 sir, I have seen, as you have th&jgoodness 
 to word it, your very improper proceed 
 ings. But I had not dreamed, sir, that 
 it would come to this that I should 
 coolly, calmly, without notice, be called 
 upon to consent to the marriage of Miss 
 Brand to a person like yourselfto one 
 who" 
 
 " Stop, sir! " cried Innis suddenly, in 
 a voice as haughty as the colonel, " at 
 least spare me your insults; I am at 
 least a gentleman, and you shall not be 
 under the necessity of asking me out of 
 your house. I will leave it ! " 
 
 As Innis spoke, the burning cheeks, 
 the flaming eyes, the lips trembling with 
 sudden ire at the tones of the colonel, 
 showed that the blood of a haughty 
 race in the veins of the youth had taken 
 fire. 
 
 " I am poor nothing it may be, in 
 your eyes but I am a gentleman, as you 
 arc aware, sir, and, if I am to be insulted, 
 this interview shall here terminate ! " 
 
 Innis rose, stern, cold, and erect a 
 statue of pride and had made a >tep 
 toward the door, when the voice of the 
 other arrested him. 
 
 u Sit down, sir," said the colonel, in 
 an agitated voice. " 1 have more to say 
 to you, and it is far from my design to 
 offer you any insult." 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 The eyes of Innis met those of Colone 
 Brand, and he read in the latter no lon 
 ger the contemptuous expression which 
 they had at first worn, rather a gloom} 
 satisfaction at finding opposed to him 
 one as proud and strong as himself, who 
 would not consent to be crushed by a 
 word and a look. 
 
 "I repeat, sir," said the colonel, "that 
 I have no earthly intention of offering 
 you offence of insulting you. Insult 
 you ? No, sir. If, under the excitement 
 of the moment in consequence of this 
 very sudden and unexpected proposition 
 I have forgotten the courtesies of good 
 society, I beg that you will forgive it, sir, 
 receiving my apologies. I trust that I 
 am too well acquainted with the propri 
 eties of life, and the respect due from one 
 gentleman to another, to offer outrage to 
 one bearing your name ; but I repeat also, 
 sir, and I wish to repeat it so plainly 
 that there can be no misunderstanding, 
 that the alliance which you do me the 
 honor to propose is entirely out of the 
 question." 
 
 Innis bowed with gloomy courtesy in 
 response to these calmer words, and 
 said: 
 
 " I do not wish to discuss the subject 
 to interrogate you, sir; but before I 
 terminate this interview, the last in all 
 probability I shall ever have with you, 
 may I beg you to inform me why my 
 proposal for Honoria s hand is entirely 
 out of the question ? " 
 
 The words as nearly confused Colonel 
 Brand as it was possible for him to be 
 confused. He had no answer ready. It 
 is very easy to exclaim, storm, declare a 
 thing absurd, but difficult sometimes to 
 declare why it is absurd. Colonel Brand 
 remained, therefore, for a moment en 
 tirely silent, and Innis, catching with the 
 despair of a drowning man at this straw 
 of hope, suddenly said, in his earnest and 
 pathetic voice : 
 
 " Why I pray you, sir, to tell me 
 why is my marriage with Honoria im 
 
 possible ? I am a gentleman, her equal, 
 poor, tis true, but I have talent, people 
 say, and I love her dearly with the 
 fondest, the truest devotion and would 
 make her happy! Why, then is it so 
 impossible ? I do not ask you to have 
 pity upon my suffering that is not the 
 tone of a man but I love Honoria so 
 truly ! How shall I live without her ! " 
 
 This passionate cry of love and an 
 guish, bursting through all the wrap 
 pings of ceremony, visibly touched the 
 proud but not narrow or sterile mind of 
 the colonel. He was silent, but slowly 
 shook his head, uttering a sort of sigh. 
 
 " My young friend," he said at length, 
 " this painful interview is quite useless, 
 tis only a suffering to us both. You 
 touch my feelings, but you do not shake 
 my fixed resolve. I have said, and repeat, 
 that your social status is not the question 
 a gentleman is a gentleman under all 
 circumstances, whatever his condition ; 
 but your union with Honoria is none the 
 less an impossibility. She is a mere 
 child, and, although I do not say that her 
 age is an insuperable obstacle, tis still a 
 serious one. I believe, sir, that you are 
 attached to your cousin. I will not for 
 a single moment do you the gross injus 
 tice of believing, much less of saying, 
 that mercenary motives control you. A 
 vulgarian might offer you that insult, sir, 
 and so be rid of your presence ; but I, a 
 Virginia gentleman, am incapable of so 
 degrading myself. No, my poor young 
 friend, I am perfectly well assured that 
 you are far above so ignoble a calcula 
 tion ; the question is different, but I am 
 none the less immovable. I regret that 
 my words should cause you so much 
 pain, but believe me, on an occasion like 
 this, plain words are best. I cannot give 
 you my daughter, Mr. Innis. Enough 
 ;hat I am compelled to refuse your re 
 quest. For yourself personally, sir, I 
 cherish both respect and regard. It is 
 possible that I have not appeared to you 
 very cordial personage, but my man- 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE S DISCOVERY. 
 
 ners are naturally reserved, and perhaps 
 pride is one of my defects. If you have 
 thought me without regard, even affec 
 tion for you, you are mistaken. You 
 will find this fancy dissipated in course 
 of time, perhaps, and do me justice. 
 Now, let us cease to speak upon this very 
 painful subject. The present conversa 
 tion need not make us strangers hence 
 forth, but I would counsel you as a friend 
 to avoid as far as possible occasions that 
 will serve to nourish a hopeless attach 
 ment. I must leave you now, sir; let 
 us part friends. I do not venture, sir, 
 under the circumstances, to make offers 
 to a gentleman of your rank, but, should 
 the occasion present itself, I shall take 
 the liberty of proving myself your friend, 
 begging you not to take offence thereat, 
 but to regard me as your very sincere 
 well-wisher." 
 
 "With these words the stately colonel 
 rose, held out his hand to Innis, or 
 rather took that of the youth in his own, 
 pressed it cordially, and with a bow, left 
 the apartment. 
 
 Innis had scarcely returned the grasp 
 of the colonel s hand. His head seemed 
 turning. He slowly took his hat, and 
 went, walking as it were in a dream, to 
 the door, which opened and, closed be 
 hind him. 
 
 The clash sent a pang to the lonely 
 heart up-stairs the girl who, in her 
 chamber, lay sobbing as though her 
 heart were breaking. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 DE. VANDYKE S DISCOVEEY. 
 
 INNIS was going along Duke-of-Glou- 
 cester Street, walking like a somnambu 
 list, wholly unconscious of the world 
 around him, when suddenly he was ar 
 rested by a material obstacle: he had 
 stumbled all at once against another 
 somnambulist, as far away from the 
 
 real world of Gloucester Street as him 
 self. 
 
 He raised his eyes, and saw that the 
 obstacle was a human being, and this 
 human being Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 The eccentric physician was as 
 strange a spectacle as ever. His squat 
 and powerful form was arrayed as before 
 in the long overcoat whose skirts beat 
 his heels ; his feet were encased in enor 
 mous buckled shoes, into which descend 
 ed his old shrunken legs clad in splatter 
 dashes, and from under his wide hat 
 flowed the long gray elf-locks, framing 
 the thin face, with its sardonic lips, and 
 piercing eyes burning like coals beneath 
 the bushy gray eyebrows. 
 
 "Well met, my young sir ! " said Dr. 
 Vandyke, whose countenance was full 
 of joy; "you walk over old friends, it 
 seems, without deigning to notice their 
 existence." 
 
 " Your pardon, doctor," said Innis in 
 a low, hopeless voice ; " I was thinking 
 did not see you " 
 
 " Thinking ? a villanous habit ! 
 What has youth to do with thinking? 
 Act ! enjoy ! and leave the rascally 
 thinking to the graybeards ! " 
 
 There was a species of tonic in the 
 rough, unceremonious voice common 
 place consolation would have disgusted 
 Innis; this man s talk was a stimulant, 
 making him lose sight of his woe. He 
 nodded, therefore; unconsciously per 
 mitted the cut-off giant to link an arm 
 in his own, and drag him along with 
 him, and said : 
 
 " So youth is the time of enjoyment, 
 is it? And yet I am young, and I do not 
 enjoy." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke looked side wise at him. 
 
 " You do not enjoy? " 
 
 "I do not." 
 
 " A love-disappointment? " 
 
 Innis groaned. 
 
 " Let us not speak of it." 
 
 " So be it," said Dr. Vandyke, " bnt 
 suffering brings strength. True, I d 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 rather not have strength at that price, 
 and go, even at my age, for enjoyment 
 which I have at last secured." 
 
 Innis looked at him, and simply nod 
 ded. 
 
 "Ah! ah!" chuckled the physician, 
 "you do not comprehend. You don t 
 see how an old mummy like myself can 
 enjoy. But I have discovered the elixir 
 vita." 
 
 And Dr. Vandyke s face grew radiant 
 with joy and pride. 
 
 " The elixir vitw ? " said Innis. 
 " I so style it, since it combats pain, 
 suffering, perhaps death itself." 
 
 The young man gazed at the speaker 
 in astonishment. 
 
 " Your meaning, doctor ? " 
 "Come with me to my laboratory, 
 and I will show you." 
 "To your laboratory?" 
 " In the nest street. You are dis 
 engaged ? " 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Come, then ! " 
 
 And with huge strides, his long great 
 coat flapping against his thin legs, Dr. 
 Vandyke went onward, dragging Innis 
 with him. 
 
 " I have not seen you for some weeks 
 now," he said " scarcely since my visit 
 to Kivanna." 
 
 " I have lived much retired, engaged 
 in study." 
 
 " One of the joys of life. And the Bi- 
 vanna family are well? They have 
 brought with them, I see, that strange 
 child Meta, who played so tragic a part 
 in the dumb-cake business. I saw 
 her at his excellency s ball looking at 
 you." 
 
 " She is with the family." 
 " And still insane ? " 
 " The word is strong, doctor. She is 
 deaf, dumb, and weak in mind, from an 
 accident a fall from horseback which 
 drove, it is supposed, a portion of bone 
 into the brain." 
 
 " Ah ? But why was no operation 
 
 ever performed ? I mean no surgical 
 operation." 
 
 "The attempt was made, I believe, 
 but the child struggled so violently that 
 twas impossible." 
 
 An expression of extreme joy and 
 triumph overspread the countenance of 
 Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 "I was not mistaken, then," he mut 
 tered ; " but for my grand discovery " 
 
 He stopped suddenly, and said : 
 
 "When did you last see our friend 
 Lord Buthven ? " 
 
 " This morning." 
 
 The words were forced from the lips, 
 and a suppressed groan came out with 
 them. The marvellously acute ears of 
 the physician caught the sound. 
 
 " Enough I know all now," he mut 
 tered ; " they are rivals for the love of my 
 little patient, and it is Buthven who will 
 win." 
 
 Innis turned his gloomy eyes upon 
 his companion. He had caught the 
 word Buthven. 
 
 " You are speaking of his lordship ? " 
 he said. 
 
 "Was I? Well, this soliloquizing is 
 a bad habit. Buthven, however, makes 
 one think. Mad mad as a March hare ! " 
 
 "Lord Buthven?" 
 
 " Himself. Do you doubt it ? What 
 else explains his fits and starts his visions 
 his terrible look at times as he glances 
 over his shoulder ? He is mad and yet 
 as sane a man too as I ever encountered." 
 The doctor chuckled. " Science tells of 
 such cases," he said. 
 
 "I had not thought thus of his lord 
 ship," said Innis. " He is calm, courteous, 
 an official of acknowledged efficiency, I 
 am assured, and, if mad, mad on one 
 subject only." 
 
 "You have hit it. There is one 
 chamber in his brain full of cobwebs, 
 but otherwise vacant or, if not vacant, 
 inhabited by spectres called Edmund 
 Innis and Honoria Brand." 
 
 Innis started. 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE S DISCOVERY. 
 
 " Your meaning, doctor ? " 
 
 "I saw him at the assembly when 
 she entered, and his face wore the same 
 look as on that day when he saw you 
 first." 
 
 " Doctor, your penetration is fright 
 ful, terrible." 
 
 "Why not? Tis my trade this 
 diagnosis of body and mind. To dismiss 
 Kuthven. He is a mystery still to me, 
 despite my theories and a mystery from 
 which I anticipate something fearful. 
 But here we are at my house. Come in. 
 I will make you, first of all the world, 
 partaker of my triumph ! " 
 
 Irmis suffered himself to be led by the 
 singular personage up the steps of the 
 small house which we have described in 
 the beginning of this history ; a huge 
 key opened the door; and, throwing 
 open another door on the right, the doc 
 tor ushered his guest into his study, 
 where a fire was burning a yellow cat 
 stretched on the rug before it. Dr. Van 
 dyke s first proceeding was to pause and 
 listen. 
 
 "Good ! " he then said, with an air of 
 relief. " Snuffers, that venerable female, 
 is reposing on her virtuous couch I me- 
 thinks I hear the noise of distant thun 
 der, long reverberating, and unmistaka 
 bly proceeding from her ancient nose ! 
 Sweet music ! dulcet harmony ! Every 
 body, friend, is afraid of something or 
 somebody I am afraid of Snuffers ! Her 
 tongue is caustic, her head-dress a night 
 mare! but I philosophize! Sit down, 
 my guest ; you are in domo mea, or rather 
 tua. See, even Felina, my favorite, wel 
 comes us my cat though her front- 
 leg has sustained a compound fracture, 
 doubtless the result of night-prowling 
 and the encounter of dogs." 
 
 Felina from her rug uttered a low cry 
 of pain or response. Dr. Vandyke en 
 throned himself in a great arm-chair ; his 
 thin legs spread out ; his hands -extended 
 toward the blaze; his face joyful. 
 
 " The moment approaches," he said, 
 
 "when the great arcanum is to be re 
 vealed to one of the elect! But I jest in 
 an unseemly manner over so serious a 
 topic. Let me speak gravely." 
 
 The eccentric countenance suddenly 
 lost its joyful and careless expression. 
 
 " I am about to exhibit before you, 
 my young friend," he said, " what will 
 prove one of the greatest and most 
 blessed discoveries which God has <ever 
 permitted the poor, narrow brain of 
 humanity to reach. But first let me ask 
 you what is the greatest of human ills? " 
 
 " Despair," said Inn is, with an expres 
 sion of immovable gloom. 
 
 " Suffering, that is to say." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Of the mind?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " You reply justly ; and yet, my young 
 friend, there is reason to question whether 
 the capacity of suffering possessed by 
 the body is not greater than that pos 
 sessed by the mind. I say that there is a 
 question I assert positively nothing. 
 But remember the warnings of the Holy 
 Book. The wrath to come, is typi 
 fied by fire the continuous burning of 
 the flesh, and the gnawing of a worm 
 upon the vitals. Thus tis lodily pain 
 that is held up as the chief woe the ut 
 most penalty." 
 
 " Yes, but" 
 
 " The soul, you would say, suffers re 
 morse, despair, and these are worst of 
 all. So let it be let us only say, then, 
 that bodily pain is terrible ; that there is 
 reason to doubt whether medicines af 
 fect the body as they affect the soul. 
 You are in despair well, a year after 
 ward you are joyful. You love your 
 wife, your child, your sweetheart, and 
 you forget them. Time, the great phy 
 sician, has cured your mental malady, 
 and yet time has not cured yonder vic 
 tim of consumption, as it did not cure 
 the leper." 
 
 Innis nodded. 
 
 "I understand. . You would say 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 that there are many anodynes for the 
 soul fewer for the body." 
 
 "Yes! yes! yes! Until yesterday." 
 
 "Until yesterday? " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke seized the cat lying up 
 on the rug. 
 
 " Look at this animal," he said. " She 
 is in pain is she not? " 
 
 " Doubtless. Her leg is broken, and 
 hanging down. When you only touch 
 it, she utters a cry of suffering." 
 
 " Good ! " 
 
 And, filled again with his overflowing 
 joy, Dr. Vandyke took a phial, uncorked 
 it, poured some of the contents of a 
 liquid which it contained upon his hand 
 kerchief, and applied it to the mouth of 
 the animal. 
 
 The liquid exhaled a penetrating odor, 
 which seemed as repulsive to the cat as 
 it was to Innis. But Dr. Vandyke con 
 tinued to press the handkerchief upon 
 the mouth of the animal ; gradually its 
 head drooped sidewise, and in a few 
 minutes it exhibited every indication of 
 death. 
 
 " What now ! " said the physician, 
 whose face was radiant ; " what is the 
 condition of this animal? " 
 
 " I should say that you had poisoned 
 her, doctor that she is dead." 
 
 " You shall see." 
 
 And, stretching the apparently inani 
 mate form upon the table, Dr. Vandyke 
 opened a drawer and took out a long, 
 sharp instrument, whose point he tried 
 upon his palm. 
 
 " If she is dead," he said, " there can 
 be no harm in probing the wound which 
 she had the misfortune to sustain during 
 her late life for the benefit of science ! 
 I may be called in by some wealthy 
 dowager to set or amputate the leg of 
 her pet Angola : then, my young friend, 
 a knowledge of cat-anatomy may result 
 in guineas." 
 
 The doctor raised the broken leg and 
 felt it. 
 
 " A bad compound fracture," he said, 
 
 " and scarce such as to admit of setting. 
 She would die of it." 
 
 "Then the cat is not dead?" said 
 Innis, absorbed in spite of himself in 
 the singular proceeding of his com 
 panion. 
 
 " Wait, and see." 
 
 And Dr. Vandyke carefully probed 
 the wound, extracting some fragments 
 of bone. The cat did not stir. 
 
 " Useless," he said ; " the limb must 
 be amputated." 
 
 And, returning the probe to its 
 drawer, he took out an exceedingly 
 sharp knife, a minute saw, and some 
 thread. 
 
 " Now, for the surgical operation," he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 And, with a sure and rapid hand, lie 
 made a circular incision, dividing the 
 flesh to the bone ; sawed the bone asun 
 der ; threw away the remnant, gathered 
 up and confined the bleeding arteries, 
 and exclaimed 
 
 " The operation is over ! " 
 
 The cat had not moved a muscle, or 
 uttered a sound indicating pain, or even 
 consciousness. 
 
 "What say you now?" cried Dr. 
 Vandyke. 
 
 " I say that it was useless to perform 
 so skilful an operation upon a dead ani 
 mal." 
 
 " Look ! " 
 
 At the same instant the body of the 
 cat was agitated with a species of tre 
 mor; the eyes opened, and the animal 
 looked at its master without indications 
 of any pain. Innis gazed at the spec 
 tacle with profound astonishment, and 
 then his eyes passed to the face of Dr. 
 Vandyke. 
 
 "I now understand your meaning," 
 he said ; " you have discovered the 
 antidote to pain. You are immor 
 tal ! " 
 
 "If some other human being does 
 not secure the fame of my discovery. 
 I have |bund what the most eminent 
 
THE RIXG. 
 
 doctors have been seeking for in vain.* 
 Yes ! a poor physician of the colonies 
 has revolutionized medical science ! For 
 what I have here performed upon this 
 poor animal may be performed with the 
 same ease upon men and women ! Pain 
 under the surgeon s knife has had its day 
 the study of a lifetime is rewarded 
 supremely by this blessed triumph ! O 
 humanity I humanity, that perchance 
 will never hear my name I am your 
 supreme benefactor to me you owe 
 statues I " 
 
 A species of furious triumph pos 
 sessed the eccentric personage. He 
 gesticulated, strode about the room, and 
 seemed wild with joy and triumph. 
 Suddenly he stopped. 
 
 " You now know, do you not, friend, 
 why I asked you the condition of the 
 young girl Meta ? " 
 
 "Of Meta, doctor?" 
 
 " She has had a fall from horseback ; 
 it has paralyzed alike brain, and tongue, 
 and hearing, for a fragment of bone has 
 impinged upon the brain, and this little 
 fragment has dethroned language, and 
 reason, and education, since education 
 is through the ear. This poor creature 
 is thus a pagan and a lunatic. No 
 operation can be performed, from the 
 wild struggling with which she resists it. 
 Well, see that small phial! with one- 
 fourth of its contents, I paralyze, in my 
 
 * Though the discovery of the anaesthetic properties 
 of ether three-quarters of a century before the first 
 experiments of Wells and Morton, may seem too im 
 probable oven for fiction, yet it should be remembered 
 that ether was known to the alchemists, and that the 
 method of making it was described by Valerius Cordus 
 in 1540. It is also to be considered that physicians long 
 sought for some means of benumbing the nerves of 
 sensation during surgical operations, and that in the 
 last century their attention was particularly turned to 
 ether, which Dr. Frobinius first brought into general 
 notice by a paper in the "Philosophical Transactions" 1 
 of 1T30. There is, therefore, really no improbability in 
 supposing that an able and inventive student of chem 
 istry and medicine like Dr. Vandyke may have antici 
 pated in his solitary researches the discovery of Mor 
 ton, and that the memory of his success may have been 
 lost in the confusion of the Involution, which wa.- tin-u 
 close at hand. 
 
 turn, this rebellious bundle of nerves I 
 cut with the knife and saw into the 
 child s very brain, and she feels no pain ! 
 I. remove the obstacle to the action of 
 her reason she hears, speaks, thinks, is 
 taught 1 have performed I, the poor 
 worm what the world calls a miracle ; 
 and have I not the right to demand my 
 statue?" 
 
 An hour afterward Innis was return 
 ing to his lodging, full of an astonishment 
 which, for the moment, dissipated his 
 misery ; and Dr. Vandyke, on the same 
 evening, was closeted with Lady Brand, 
 and speaking of Meta. 
 
 Leaving the sequel of the consulta 
 tion to its proper place, we return to the 
 main current of our narrative. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 THE KING. 
 
 ANOTHER month had passed. It was 
 one of those nights of winter when the 
 world seems to have bid farewell forever 
 to warmth and sunshine ; when the 
 wind groans drearily around the houses 
 and through leafless trees, and the moon, 
 drifting through long surges of black 
 cloud, only adds with its funereal and 
 flitting beams to the hopeless desolation 
 of the face of the world. 
 
 Innis traversed the deserted streets 
 of Williamsburg, slowly advancing tow 
 ard the residence of Ilonoria. He had 
 been summoned by her, after a long 
 separation caused by the serious illness 
 of the young lady; he was ignorant of 
 the object of this long - deferred inter 
 view ; but something whispered to him 
 that it had some connection with the 
 continuous visits of Lord.Ruthven, and 
 the dreary expression of the pale and 
 haggard face indicated the nature of his 
 anticipations. 
 
 He entered the house, not noticing 
 that the old family servant, who opened 
 the door, looked at him with deep com- 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 miseration. Honoria was seated alone, 
 before the fire in the drawing-room, and 
 a susceptible tremor agitated her frame 
 as h<i entered. Innis started. The gjgl 
 was tto longer any thing but the shadow 
 of herself. She was fearfully thin and 
 pale, and the eyes, dim and sunken, were 
 full of a strange apathy. With her long, 
 flowing robe fitting but loosely now to 
 her slender figure, she resembled a ghost. 
 She was motionless, except that, from 
 moment to moment, she turned back 
 ward and forward with her thin fingers 
 a ring upon the third finger of her left 
 hand. 
 
 As Innis approached, she slowly 
 turned her head and looked at him. 
 The appearance of the haggard face, and 
 the apathetic eyes surrounded by red 
 rings, made him shudder. 
 
 " I sent for you," she said, in a faint, 
 low voice, with something dreary and 
 hopeless in its accent ; "I wished to see 
 you once at least before " 
 
 The voice faltered and died away. 
 
 "Before my marriage," she added, 
 in a sort of whisper. 
 
 Innis shook from head to foot, and 
 drew a long breath through his set teeth. 
 
 " Your marriage ? " he said, convul 
 sively. 
 
 " My marriage." 
 
 The apathy had extended to the voice 
 now. Honoria looked at him, and add 
 ed: 
 
 " Then you did not know that I was 
 to be married ? " 
 
 The young man suddenly lost all self- 
 command, and cried: 
 
 " my G-od I Honoria ! Do not say 
 that ! Do not look at me so ! I shall 
 go mad ! " 
 
 " And I too, Edmund, if I am not so 
 already." 
 
 The slow, measured accents had not 
 changed ; the young lady was evidently 
 the victim of utter despair, and her 
 nerves were paralyzed. 
 
 14 Do you think," she went on, "that 
 
 I too have had no reason to go mad ? 
 My father has betrothed me to Lord 
 Ruthven, despite my tears, and prayers 
 for mercy only mercy ! Nothing moves 
 him. He acts for my good, he says. I 
 will thank him some day girls do not 
 know their minds another opportunity 
 for so great a match may never again 
 occur I must abandon my school-girl 
 fancies I must marry this nobleman ! " 
 "You cannot shall not?" Innis 
 suddenly cried; "it would be mon 
 strous! " 
 
 " It will be monstrous." 
 " Will be ! " 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You will marry this man?" 
 "I must! " 
 
 Innis fell into a chair, covering his 
 face with his hands. All his manhood 
 had succumbed. 
 
 " Oh, you cannot, you cannot ! " he 
 cried ; " it will kill me ! " 
 
 " We shall then be together again," 
 came in a low, solemn voice from the 
 girl. 
 
 Innis raised his head and looked at 
 her with fiery eyes, full of blinding 
 tears. 
 
 "Do you think," said Honoria, slowly 
 and calmly, "that I am stronger than 
 you that I can live through this degra 
 dation, this lie of promising love to him 
 when I love you you only in this 
 world? I have submitted to the will of 
 my father, and have not sunk under my 
 sufferings I have been very ill, but have 
 grown well again, as you see. Soon I 
 shall be ill a second time, and then I shall 
 not recover. Nor would I. Once I 
 shrunk from death now I long for it, 
 and pray God to send it me, as His 
 dearest blessing." 
 
 Innis fell upon his knees before her, 
 seizing the poor, thin hands. 
 
 "Oh, do not speak of death, my own 
 Honoria ! " he cried. " Live for me, your 
 poor, poor Edmund! refuse to sell your 
 self thus, in this hateful, this horrible 
 
PHIL GARY FINDS THE MOMENT. 
 
 union ! Your father is cruel leave him ! 
 Come with me, and be what you are in 
 the sight of Heaven, my dear wife ! " 
 
 Honoria slowly shook her head. 
 
 " Such unions are not happy. Obe 
 dience to parents is commanded by a 
 greater power than any upon earth. Do 
 not urge me, Edmund there is no hope 
 no ! Do not let us even speak of that ! 
 Death alone can free me from this fright 
 ful fate. I have sent for you, to tell you 
 that I shall die soon to say farewell 
 and" 
 
 With a convulsive movement, she 
 drew the ring from her thin finger, held 
 it out to Tnnis, and, turning away her 
 head, whispered: 
 
 "And to return you this." 
 
 The effort exhausted her strength, 
 but unsealed the blessed fountain of tears. 
 She burst into passionate sobs, let her 
 face fall hopelessly upon the wet face of 
 the youth at her feet, and exclaiming 
 "This is killing me, Edmund!" fainted 
 in his arms. 
 
 A quarter of an hour afterward, Ho 
 noria was in her chamber, clasped, al 
 most lifeless, in the arms of her sister ; 
 and Innis was walking the street with 
 wild and uncertain steps a hopeless 
 man in the dreary winter-night. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 PHIL CART FINDS THE MOMENT. 
 
 IT was the morning succeeding this 
 scene, full of passionate anguish. In the 
 same chair which had been occupied by 
 Honoria in the drawing-room, sat her 
 sister Lou, bending down and weeping. 
 
 "I cannot endure it! Oh, I cannot 
 endure the thought!" she sobbed out. 
 " It will kill Honoria! What is to become 
 of us ? Oh, what is to become of us ? " 
 
 The hands which had covered her 
 beautiful face fell, and her eyes were 
 seen bathed in tears which flowed silent 
 ly down the flushed cheeks. She gazed 
 
 for some moments fixedly upon the floor ; 
 uttered a moan ; and, rising to the full 
 height of her superb figure, leaned for 
 por^ for she felt weak and faint 
 against the carven wood-work of the tall 
 mantel-piece. 
 
 Such was her preoccupation that she 
 did not hear the door open, or see a 
 personage who stopped upon the thres 
 hold. 
 
 " Oh, this place is hateful, hateful ! " 
 she exclaimed. " Why did we ever come 
 hither, and Honoria meet this person ? 
 If I could only fly from this town never 
 to return ! Oh, who will take me ? " 
 
 "I, Lou," said a voice behind her, and 
 turning quickly she saw Phil Gary, smil 
 ing, with a frank light in his blue eyes, 
 standing in the door-way. 
 
 " You ! " she exclaimed ; " I did not 
 know that you were within a hundred 
 miles, sir!" 
 
 Phil Gary s face had been full of hnppy 
 smiles. Now he blushed suddenly, and 
 a gloomy expression replaced the sun 
 shine. 
 
 "So the capital has made you for 
 mal ! " he said. 
 
 "Formal! me?" 
 
 "You no longer call me Pfiil as at 
 Rivanna then you have forgotten me, 
 or grown cold to me ? " 
 
 Miss Lou Brand blushed unmistakably 
 in her turn. 
 
 "Cold? no! you are so unjust! 
 why should you think! " There she 
 stopped. 
 
 There seemed little reason for so 
 much embarrassment, or for such care 
 ful avoidance of her visitor s eye. What 
 could be the matter with the witty and 
 satirical Miss Brand ? 
 
 The young man became more and 
 more gloomy; but it was easy to see that 
 with this gloom mingled a passionate 
 sentiment of some description. 
 
 "I thought you would have met me 
 with a little more cordiality, Lou," he 
 said. "But pardon me doubtless tis 
 
80 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 disagreeable to you to have such liberties 
 taken." 
 
 "Liberties!" murmured the young 
 lady, carefully not looking at him. 
 
 "The liberty of calling you by your 
 old name. I will not further offend." 
 
 " Oh no ! no ! do not call me other 
 wise; do not be formal with me, Philip." 
 
 A roseate flush spread itself over the 
 beautiful face. 
 
 " I am so unhappy ! " she added, with 
 a suppressed sob. 
 
 " Very unhappy ? " 
 
 The impetuous youth drew the hand 
 which he held in his own toward him. 
 The owner did not seem to observe the 
 circumstance, or the fact that her com 
 panion was gazing into her averted face 
 with passionate tenderness. 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes ! " she murmured ; 
 " this town is hateful to me ! Why 
 should I conceal my feelings, or hide our 
 family trouble from you ? Ilonoria is to 
 marry my Lord Ruthven! think of it! 
 He is odious to her or, if not odious, 
 indifferent and she, you know, she 
 loves Edmund with her very heart of 
 hearts ! Oh, tis frightful ! Can Heaven 
 smile upon a union so repulsive? To 
 give the hand to one when the heart is 
 another s to be driven to a marriage 
 from which you shrink with a shudder 
 of disgust ! And yet, tis fated to be 
 thus our father is immovable. Last 
 night Edmund bade farewell forever to 
 Honoria, and the poor, poor thing fainted 
 in his arms where she belongs where 
 she belongs ! " 
 
 And the warm-hearted girl burst into 
 passionate tears. Before she was aware 
 of it, she was sobbing upon her old play 
 mate s shoulder ; he was speaking to her 
 in hurried, passionate words of love and 
 comfort ; and, a quarter of an hour after 
 ward, the young man, in a moment, as it 
 were, and ignorant almost how it came 
 about, had avowed his own love, and was 
 the girl s accepted lover. 
 
 These things thus happen. They 
 
 had lived all their lives together, jested, 
 laughed, teased each other daily not 
 knowing that, amid all that mirth and 
 carelessness, they were gradually ap 
 proaching the moment when they would 
 love each other ! This instant of passion 
 ate anguish had decided their destinies. 
 The beautiful young girl was sobbing, 
 suffering, looking around her for some 
 one to comfort her, and Fate brought 
 her playmate loved more than she her 
 self dreamed. He had spoken, and the 
 throbbing hearts beat close, each pressed 
 to each, in a long, lingering embrace. 
 
 An hour afterward, Miss Lou Brand, 
 blushing in an angelic manner, and smil 
 ing through her tears like an April morn 
 ing, whispered, faintly: 
 
 "But, your mother, Philip? She 
 does not wish you to marry anybody, 
 you know. Are you sure do you think 
 she will have me? " 
 
 The reply of Mr. Phil Gary to this 
 question was of a peculiar character ; 
 but neither his words nor his actions will 
 be here recorded. In due time lie suc 
 ceeded in expressing himself intelligibly, 
 and informing the young lady that his 
 excellent mother had been quite ill ; that 
 she longed for a daughter-in-law to cheer 
 her loneliness ; and he further assured his 
 companion that Mrs. Gary had ended 
 their last discussion by warmly urging 
 her son to pay his addresses to Lou 
 Brand. 
 
 " Then " 
 
 The young lady uttered that single 
 word, blushing radiantly as she did so, 
 and glancing sidewise for the hundredth 
 part of a second at her lover. 
 
 " Don t, Philip ! " came from her a 
 moment afterward ; and, as the descrip 
 tion of this scene has proceeded to suffi 
 cient length, we now close the door, and 
 discreetly retire. 
 
A STRANGE COMFORTER. 
 
 81 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 A STEANGE COMFOETER. 
 
 To return, for a moment, to the pre 
 ceding night, Innis had walked the 
 street wildly for an hour after his inter 
 view with Honoria. Then, without con 
 sciousness of the fact, he bent his way 
 toward his lodgings, entered, ascended 
 the narrow stairs, and found himself in 
 his chamber, where the dying embers 
 scarce revealed the outlines of the furni 
 ture. 
 
 He fell into a seat, uttered a groan, 
 and covered his face with his hands. 
 
 " I was sure of it ! " muttered a voice 
 on the opposite side of the fireplace. 
 "Who will say hereafter that penetra 
 tion is not one of my qualities ! " 
 
 Innis started, and looked in the direc 
 tion of the voice. 
 
 " Oh, it s only your friend Vandyke," 
 said the eccentric, who was sprawled as 
 usual in a capacious chair. " I have only 
 been awaiting you an hour and a half. 
 Your old servant told me where you had 
 gone, and I knew what the result of your 
 visit would be. So the bonny bird is go 
 ing to flit from you at last ? " 
 
 " Spare me ! " groaned Innis. " I am 
 wellnigh heart-broken, and cannot speak 
 of this." 
 
 " Let us speak of something else, then. 
 Have you seen Meta? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " She is cured." 
 
 And the doctor kicked together the 
 brands in the fireplace with his huge foot, 
 and produced a blaze. 
 
 " Let us talk a little by firelight tis 
 the best to talk by," he said, composedly. 
 " Yes, Meta is cured." 
 
 " You have not performed " 
 
 " My operation ? Yes. Three weeks 
 since without difficulty, without pain ! 
 and the child is convalescent more, 
 sane ! SANE ! SANE I tell you ! " 
 
 As he uttered the words, " sane, sane, 
 sane," Dr. Vandyke s voice rose steadily 
 
 6 
 
 in loud and sonorous accents, until the 
 latter word was nearly shouted aloud. 
 
 "Yes, my young friend," he added, 
 " after our last interview I sought Colo 
 nel Brand and Lady Brand immediately 
 proposed to perform the operation 
 conquered their scruples administered 
 my elixir vitce to the child removed the 
 fragment of bone thrust by her fall upon 
 her brain ; and now she smiles, hears, 
 understands, and babbles! babbles, I 
 say, for speech slowly returns. But, it 
 will return nay, it has! and you will 
 find as much." 
 
 The words were uttered with a 
 strange, wistful, mysterious significance. 
 One would have said that this man was 
 in possession of some secret which he 
 longed to reveal, but was prevented by 
 circumstances from disclosing. 
 
 In a moment, Innis lost sight of his 
 own misfortunes, thinking of Meta. 
 
 " Cured sane ! " he said ; "is it pos 
 sible, sir ? I confess I had no faith in any 
 such miracle." 
 
 " There are no miracles," said Dr. 
 Vandyke, " save those of the Holy Script 
 ures. A miracle is the violation by the 
 Supreme Law-giver of His own law as 
 when Lazarus rose at the command of 
 the Son of God. Else the seasons, the 
 course of the stars, the growth of the 
 acorn, were miracles. Nor is this cure 
 of a Door human being, under the scal 
 pel, more of a miracle than these. The 
 obstacle to the operation was there, and 
 was removed. Science moves and acts 
 under the fiat of the Supreme Power. 
 The child is sane she laughs and weeps, 
 and I heard her praying ! " the words 
 were uttered proudly, triumphantly 
 " and without pain ! " added the physi 
 cian. 
 
 " Absolutely ? " said Innis. 
 
 " She did not move ! When the oper 
 ation was over, she murmured, in a low 
 voice, That is my oriole singing in the 
 tree ! " 
 
 Innis listened with astonishment. 
 
82 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 " And she speaks distinctly? " 
 
 " Not perfectly. Long disuse of the 
 lingual muscles is the only obstacle. And 
 now that I have told you of Meta, tell 
 me of yourself." 
 
 " I have naught to tell you, doctor," 
 said Innis, in a voice of utter despair. 
 " Your words, a few moments since, in 
 dicated a knowledge of my most private 
 affairs of my very great distress spare 
 me, then, the grief of referring to it." 
 
 "So be it," said he ; " but will you 
 receive advice from a very old man, who 
 has suffered much ? " 
 
 "Advice?" 
 
 " Counsel, based upon experience." 
 
 " Most willingly." 
 
 " Then I sum up my advice to you in 
 a single word wait." 
 
 " Wait, for what ? " 
 
 " For that which the future will bring 
 forth. I do not say that it will bring 
 forth happiness it may produce misery. 
 But wait. Take no trouble on trust. 
 The cloud is dark often when the sun is 
 about to shine. There are no miracles, 
 but there are strange events in the his 
 tories of human lives ; and twas to say 
 this that I came to-night, through cold 
 <md storm and I was going to wait, if 
 necessary until daylight, for your re 
 turn." 
 
 Having uttered these mysterious 
 words, the physician seized Innis s 
 hand, squeezed it with the forcft of a 
 giant, dashed his hat upon his head, and 
 disappeared from the apartment. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 THE FAMILY IN CONCLAVE. 
 
 INNIS was seated before the fire in 
 his chamber, on the second day after 
 these scenes, gazing with dull and stupe 
 fied eyes into the blaze, when a knock 
 came at his door, and the old butler of 
 Colonel Brand entered, bowing respect 
 fully. 
 
 The young man returned his greeting, 
 in a dreary way, and said : 
 
 "Well, Robin?" 
 
 "A note from master, Mas Ed 
 mund." 
 
 And the old gray -haired servant went 
 to a table, took a small waiter therefrom, 
 deposited the note upon it, and respect 
 fully presented it to Innis. He took it 
 with a strange expression of mingled re 
 pugnance and surprise, and, tearing it 
 open, read the following lines : 
 
 " SIR : May I beg you to do me the 
 honor to visit me at my house between 
 the hour of noon and one o clock to-day ? 
 An affair of a very extraordinary char 
 acter renders your presence desirable, 
 and I beg that you will not fail to be 
 present at the hour named. 
 
 " I have the honor to be 
 " Your servant, 
 
 "R. BRAND. 
 "To EDMUND INNIS, Esq., Gloster Street." 
 
 The young man read this note over 
 twice, with indications of very great as 
 tonishment, and muttered, "An affair of 
 an extraordinary character." 
 
 A slight movement made by old 
 Robin recalled the fact of his presence. 
 It was necessary to reply to the colonel s 
 note ; and Innis wrote a line to him, in 
 forming him that he would be present at 
 the hour indicated. This note he handed 
 to old Robin. That old colored gentle 
 man for gentleman Robin was in his 
 character and feelings carefully placed 
 the missive in his pocket, fell back a 
 step, and waited. 
 
 Innis looked at him. 
 
 " You have something to say to me, 
 Robin ? " 
 
 "I thought, Mas Edmund," said 
 Robin, " you might have something to 
 say to me" 
 
 " Yes, yes, I understand you, Robin ! 
 Thanks, thanks, my good friend. Your 
 Miss Honoria " 
 
THE FAMILY IN CONCLAVE. 
 
 83 
 
 "She is better to-day, sir." 
 
 Innis sighed deeply, and his head 
 sank. His eyes were fixed upon the fire, 
 his expression absent and dreamy, and, 
 taking this as an indication that his 
 presence was no longer desired, old Robin 
 silently and respectfully left the apart 
 ment. 
 
 The young man continued for some 
 time lost in reverie. 
 
 " What now I " he muttered at length. 
 " Here is a mystery which at other times 
 would certainly interest me ! An affair 
 of an extraordinary character what 
 may that be ? That my Lord Ruthven 
 is an impostor I a changeling, and the 
 true representative of the earldom? 
 What means this most mysterious mys 
 tery ? Ah ! well all speculation is idle, 
 doubtless. I shall very soon see." 
 
 And, relapsing into reverie, the young 
 man continued to gaze with his-old ex 
 pression into the blaze. 
 
 At noon precisely, Innis presented 
 himself at Colonel Brand s door, and 
 had no necessity to ask for the master of 
 the mansion, who stood upon the thresh 
 old of the great drawing-room, waiting 
 to receive him. 
 
 It was obvious, from the appearance 
 of the colonel s face, that some surpris 
 ing event had occurred. A sudden al 
 teration had taken place in him. The 
 countenance, ordinarily so flushed and ru 
 bicund with high living and rich wines, 
 was pale and haggard ; the air of proud, 
 almost haughty politeness, not unmingled 
 with condescension, had given place to a 
 bearing full of absent-mindedness and 
 gloom; the erect figure was bent; the 
 shoulders stooped, and the unwonted 
 negligence of the colonel s toilet be 
 trayed the absorbing character of the 
 thoughts which occupied him. 
 
 Innis advanced with slow and meas 
 ured steps, and made a low and cere 
 monious bow. 
 
 " I have come in response to your re 
 quest, this morning, sir," he said, coldly. 
 
 "I thank you, sir," said the colonel, 
 in a much-altered, and singularly falter 
 ing voice. 
 
 He almost instantly recovered, how 
 ever, his self-possession, and, with some 
 thing of his old stateliness, bowed low, 
 and said: 
 
 " I pray you to come into the draw 
 ing-room, Mr. Innis. I desire to commu 
 nicate to you a matter of very great im 
 portance." 
 
 The last words were uttered with a 
 quick tremor, of which the colonel tried 
 vainly to divest his voice. As he spoke, 
 he stood ceremoniously aside, that Innis 
 might precede him; and the young man, 
 inclining slightly in response to this 
 courtesy, entered the apartment. 
 
 Near a table, on the right of the fire 
 place, sat Lady Brand, holding in her 
 own the thin hand of Honoria, who, 
 pale, anxious, and with eyes which never 
 wandered from Innis, seemed occupied 
 by some absorbing emotion. Within a 
 few feet Lou Brand stood erect, her su 
 perb figure drawn up to its full height, 
 her jewelled hand resting upon the carved 
 back of an arm-chair, and in this chair 
 reclined Meta, looking very white and 
 much reduced, but with an unwonted 
 expression of calmness and sweetness in 
 her dark eyes, around which fell a few- 
 stray curls of her black hair. 
 
 We have heard Dr. Vandyke explain 
 to Innis the daring attempt made to re 
 store Meta, and its perfectly successful 
 result. It is unnecessary to dwell fur 
 ther upon the scene. The all-powerful 
 anaesthetic had done its work, and 
 plunged the child into coma the rapid 
 and unerring hand had removed the ob 
 struction to reason painlessly removed 
 it even ; and the human being, but lately 
 a subtle, scheming, insane girl, tongue- 
 tied, and deaf as dumb, was in posses 
 sion of her reason, in possession of the 
 power of hearing and of speaking 
 smiled, as those around her had not seen 
 her smile for years, and thrilled with 
 
84 
 
 DOCTOR VAXDYKE. 
 
 happiness when informed of this miracle 
 wellnigh, which had restored to her the 
 light of reason, and opened the hlessed 
 fountain of tears. 
 
 As he slowly advanced into the apart 
 ment, Innis surveyed with a fixed glance 
 the group near the fireplace, suppressing 
 with difficulty his agitation at the sight 
 of Honoria. As he drew near, the coun 
 tenance of the young girl flushed slowly ; 
 her lips trembled, and her thin hand 
 convulsively grasped the hand of Lady 
 Brand, whose eyes were swimming in 
 tears. 
 
 Before Innis could speak, Colonel 
 Brand advanced, and said in a voice 
 which he vainly endeavored to con 
 trol : 
 
 "You will perceive, sir, that I have 
 invited you to something which resem 
 bles a family consultation. You see 
 here assembled all the members of my 
 family, as it is my wish that all should 
 be present and participate in this inter 
 view." 
 
 Innis bowed, but said nothing. He 
 felt that his voice would fail him. 
 
 Colonel Brand cleared his throat, and 
 drew himself up with a painful assump 
 tion of dignity. 
 
 "The object of this interview, sir, is 
 to inform you of a very unexpected dis 
 covery." 
 
 A suppressed sigh from Lady Brand 
 was heard as the colonel ended his sen 
 tence, and the sound seemed to irritate 
 him. 
 
 " I pray you do not permit any evi 
 dence of emotion, madam, to mingle 
 with this strictly business consultation. 
 You will perceive that I, madam, am not 
 agitated in the least." 
 
 And Colonel Brand s voice shook. 
 
 Innis looked at Lady Brand, and saw 
 that she was nearly ready to sob. The 
 spectacle broke down his haughty pride, 
 and he exclaimed : 
 
 " What is the occasion of this agita 
 tion, aunt ? Speak ! I am lost in won 
 
 der at this scene. What is the occasion 
 of your grief? " 
 
 " It is not grie-f, sir ! " said Colonel 
 Brand, with hauteur. 
 
 " What then ? " said Innis. 
 
 " Agitation mere agitation, sir ! 
 Ladies do not understand business." 
 
 " The cause of this agitation, then, if 
 it be agitation alone ? " 
 
 Innis spoke with vehemence, a vague 
 excitement mastering him. 
 
 " The reply is simple, sir," said Colo 
 nel Brand. " Yesterday I and my family 
 were persons of wealth and consequence 
 to-day we are stripped of all, and are 
 penniless." 
 
 Innis looked at the speaker with 
 stupefaction. 
 
 "You speak in riddles, sir. I pray 
 you will explain yourself." 
 
 " That is easy, sir. I am no longer 
 the proprietor of Rivanna ! " 
 
 " Good Heavens ! and who " 
 
 " Is the owner of the estate ? It is 
 yourself, sir." 
 
 "I! " exclaimed Innis. "I the own 
 er of Rivanna ! " 
 
 "Yes, sir; and I beg to say that 
 I shall in no manner contest your 
 claim. The entire estate will be sur 
 rendered to you, so soon as I shall have 
 been able to secure shelter for my 
 family." 
 
 Innis uttered no word of reply. His 
 eyes were riveted upon the face of Colo 
 nel Brand with an expression of incredu 
 lous astonishment. 
 
 "I shall be compelled, for a brief 
 space, to remain a trespasser upon your 
 property, sir," said the colonel, in an 
 agitated voice. "I shall proceed at once 
 to collect my scattered resources, and 
 shall be able, I trust, to secure a moder 
 ate provision for my household an hon 
 orable support for them the rest I leave 
 to Providence." 
 
 " In Heaven s name, end this preface, 
 sir, and explain what you mean ! " ex 
 claimed Innis. 
 
THE EXPLANATION. 
 
 85 
 
 "It is easily explained," muttered 
 Colonel Brand. But there he stopped. 
 
 " The explanation !" said Innis, gloom 
 ily. "So many things have occurred 
 recently, sir, that I am proof against 
 almost all emotion. You, nevertheless, 
 excite my curiosity." 
 
 "Without further delay, then, you 
 are, as I have said, the sole proprietor 
 of the Eivanna estate. Your indul 
 gence, sir! I did not think to hetray 
 this agitation, hut the thought is hitter 
 that Ellen I mean Lady Brand and 
 my children my dear children " 
 
 The haughty spirit broke down. The 
 voice stuck in the throat. 
 
 At the same moment a chariot was 
 heard to stop before the door; the 
 knocker rose and fell. 
 
 "Lord Euthven!" old Robin an 
 nounced. 
 
 "It is well!" muttered Colonel 
 Brand; "the family party is now com 
 plete, and one explanation will suffice 
 for everybody." 
 
 As he uttered these words, Lord 
 Euthven, who had paused for a moment 
 in the hall to divest himself of his furs, 
 entered the apartment, and saluted the 
 assembled company with a profound and 
 courtly inclination. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 
 
 ETJTHVEN surveyed the gathering be 
 fore him with unmistakable curiosity 
 and astonishment; but, suppressing im 
 mediately all indications of surprise, said 
 to Colonel Brand in his grave and court 
 ly voice : 
 
 " I received your note, sir, and trust 
 that I have not compelled you to await 
 me." 
 
 As he spoke he drew from his breast 
 his watch, and added, after looking at 
 it: 
 
 "I am glad to find that I am punc 
 
 tual, having just the hour mentioned in 
 your note." 
 
 Colonel Brand bowed. 
 
 "Strict punctuality was immaterial, 
 my lord," was his ceremonious reply ; 
 "and Mr. Innis, a necessary personage 
 in this family meeting, has just ar 
 rived." 
 
 "Mr. Innis?" said Euthven, turning 
 his head. He spoke almost unconscious 
 ly, but was quickly aware of the uncere 
 monious character of his words, and add 
 ed: 
 
 "I beg that Mr. Innis will pardon the 
 apparent discourtesy of my question. I 
 had forgotten that he is a close and 
 valued member of your family, sir." 
 
 Colonel Brand inclined his head, pre 
 serving his cold, almost stiff air of cere 
 mony. 
 
 " It was absolutely necessary, as you 
 will ere long become aware, that Mr. 
 Innis should attend at this very painful 
 interview," he said, "and should have 
 his part in what is to take place." 
 
 Euthven again bowed, and said : 
 
 " Certainly, sir ; but may I venture 
 to say that Lady Brand and Miss Brand 
 appear unwell and agitated ? Is their 
 presence necessary? " 
 
 " Absolutely necessary." 
 
 " Then this is a family consultation ? " 
 
 "A family meeting, at all events, my 
 lord; and, though I shall speak for my 
 wife and daughters, it is their own desire 
 to be present when I do so." 
 
 "That terminates the discussion, sir; 
 pray pardon the seeming intrusion of my 
 advice. I had feared that a business dis 
 cussion would perhaps embarrass or an 
 noy the ladies. As it is not so, their 
 presence is a satisfaction to me. I de 
 rive too much pleasure from the society 
 of those toward whom I hope even to 
 sustain more intimate relations." 
 
 Colonel Brand was silent. It was 
 easy to see that he was greatly agitated. 
 His face was pale, and his Invar Ji ing 
 labored. He looked around him, found 
 
86 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 that every one was waiting, and at length 
 said: 
 
 " I see that you expect me to speak, 
 gentlemen, and I can no longer delay my 
 very painful communication. Lord Ruth- 
 ven, yesterday I Avas a gentleman of large 
 landed estate, living in affluence and lux 
 ury : to-day I am wellnigh penniless 
 nearly a beggar ! A moment, my lord : 
 your astonishment is natural, but I beg 
 that you will withhold it until I have 
 terminated my necessary explanation. I 
 shall proceed to put yourself and Mr. In- 
 nis, who is equally ignorant, in posses 
 sion of the facts, and inform you of the 
 unexpected manner in which I became 
 aware of the real situation of affairs." 
 
 The ladies had not moved. Lady 
 Brand continued to hold Honoria s hand 
 her sister to lean composedly upon the 
 back of Meta s chair. Innis and Ruthven 
 alone exhibited curiosity and astonish 
 ment. 
 
 " I shall address myself to you, my 
 lord," continued Colonel Brand, in an 
 agitated voice, " as Mr. Innis is more or 
 less familiar with the subject of which I 
 shall speak. The estate of Rivanna, 
 upon which I live, and which is justly 
 regarded as one of the most princely in 
 the colony, was formerly the property 
 of Colonel Seaton, a gentleman of many 
 accomplishments and very high charac 
 ter. He was never married, and, to dis 
 sipate his loneliness, he adopted two 
 nieces, cousins, who were greatly be 
 loved by him, and stood to him in the 
 relation of children. Of these, it was 
 supposed that the elder niece was the 
 favorite; but, on the death of Colonel 
 Seaton, it was ascertained that he had 
 devised his estate of Rivanna to the 
 younger, my wife, leaving an inconsid 
 erable estate to the elder. The origin 
 of this disproportion was never accurate 
 ly ascertained. It could only be conjec 
 tured that the elder young lady, who 
 was very impulsive and high-spirited, 
 had had some misunderstanding with her 
 
 uncle, and that he had punished her by 
 bestowing the bulk of his property upon 
 her cousin. Something was said of Colo 
 nel Beaton s disapproval of a preferred 
 suitor of the elder young lady. But these 
 points are not important. Colonel Sea- 
 ton died, leaving Rivanna to his younger 
 niece. The elder married Mr. Innis, of 
 Lodore, and died, leaving an only 
 child, Mr. Edmund Innis, now present. 
 My marriage had taken place some 
 months before, and, in right of my wife, 
 I became the proprietor of the estate of 
 Rivanna. This estate now passes to the 
 representative of the elder niece of Colo 
 nel Seaton, Mr. Edmund Innis." 
 
 Colonel Brand turned, and bowed 
 with formal ceremony to the young man, 
 who gazed at him in silent astonish 
 ment, and seemed to regard the whole 
 scene as a dream. 
 
 "The ground of Mr. Innis s claim to 
 the estate," continued Colonel Brand, 
 " or, rather, the title by which he holds 
 it from this moment, is derived from a 
 later will of Colonel Seaton s, only re 
 cently discovered by a member of my 
 family. This will entirely annuls the 
 first is indisputable, and perfectly regu 
 lar and formal if it were not, the intent 
 of the testator is so clearly expressed, 
 in his own writing, that I should not op 
 pose for a moment the effect of the instru 
 ment." 
 
 Innis let his head fall, and uttered a 
 deep sigh. Then, a flash of the eye in 
 dicated that some sudden thought had 
 passed through his mind. He said noth 
 ing, however, and Colonel Brand contin 
 ued : 
 
 " The will of Colonel Seaton was dis 
 covered in an extraordinary manner. 
 During the last autumn, a party of young 
 ladies, then on a visit to Rivanna, deter 
 mined to indulge in the very absurd and 
 superstitious ceremony of eating the 
 dumb-cake, as it is called some highly- 
 objectionable mummery, connected with 
 procuring buckets of water from a par- 
 
THE WILL. 
 
 87 
 
 ticular locality, looking into a mirror at 
 midnight, and other folly. Not to dwell 
 further upon this unfortunate incident 
 than is necessary, Honoria was selected 
 to undergo the trial. And this poor 
 child " he pointed, as he spoke, to Meta 
 " who had then the misfortune to labor 
 under mental infirmity, determined to 
 frighten her cousin. She accordingly 
 went to Honoria s chamber, and as she 
 has revealed to us since her happy resto 
 ration to health sought for a place of 
 concealment. There were no closets, 
 but in one corner stood an old linen- 
 chest which had not been opened for 
 years. The key had been long lost ; but 
 Meta, in her solitary explorations of 
 garrets and dark closets, had discovered 
 the key a large and peculiar one and 
 succeeded in opening the chest, which 
 she designed using as a hiding-place. 
 This she, however, found to be impossi 
 ble. The chest was filled with nonde 
 script articles old worn-out clothes, 
 papers, and other things. She accord 
 ingly abandoned the idea of hiding 
 there took her place behind the cur 
 tains of the bed, and, on her cousin s 
 entry, succeeded, in a manner it is need 
 less to dwell upon, in very seriously and 
 almost fatally frightening Honoria. Not 
 further to dwell upon this very unpleas 
 ant incident Meta, after her cousin s 
 recovery, returned to pry into the chest, 
 and carried off many articles to store 
 away in private receptacles among 
 others, this paper " Colonel Brand 
 drew from his breast a folded document, 
 yellow with age " which, in some man 
 ner, became mixed up with the articles 
 of her wardrobe when they were placed 
 in a trunk to be brought to Williams- 
 burg. Of the character of the paper; 
 the poor child knew nothing, and it was 
 only discovered by accident yesterday, 
 when she at once declared whence it had 
 come. Of the authenticity of the paper 
 there can be no doubt. You may see for 
 yourselves, gentlemen 1 " 
 
 With marks of great agitation, the 
 speaker unfolded the paper. 
 
 " See the last will and testament of 
 Henry Seaton, of Rivanna, in the coun 
 ty of Albemarle, Esq. written, I am in 
 formed by Lady Brand, in his own hand 
 writing, signed, sealed, and attested by 
 two witnesses, both dead, I am further 
 informed, a number of years since, but 
 whose writing could doubtless be identi 
 fied. That is, however, of no importance, 
 as the paper is in Colonel Seaton s hand 
 writing. You will perceive the date 
 several months later than that of the will 
 under which Lady Brand holds the es 
 tate. You will see, at a glance, that 
 Colonel Seaton devises his entire landed 
 estate to the elder of his nieces the 
 mother of the gentleman here present, 
 Mr. Edmund Innis." 
 
 Colonel Brand, with a trembling hand, 
 laid the paper on the table. 
 
 " You will now understand, my lord," 
 he added, with an effort, " what I meant 
 in saying that I and my family are beg 
 gared." 
 
 XXXVIIL 
 
 THE WILL. 
 
 FOE some moments the silence of 
 death reigned in the apartment. It was 
 first broken by Ruthven, who had listened 
 with profound attention, and now, when 
 the narrative was finished, inclined his 
 head with calm courtesy. 
 
 " You have related a very singular 
 history, sir," he said, " and I have lis 
 tened with attention and interest; but 
 you will pardon me for saying that I do 
 not see the necessity for my own pres 
 ence upon this painful ocean < ii." 
 
 " No necessity, my lord ! " replied 
 Colonel Brand. " Your pardon, in ray 
 turn, but I think it was absolutely incum 
 bent upon me to request your presence." 
 
 " For what reason, sir ? " 
 
 Simply in view of the relation 
 
88 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 which you sustained toward my family, 
 as the accepted suitor of my daughter." 
 
 " The relation which I sustained, 
 sir?" said Kuthven. "Did I hear 
 aright?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord," returned Colonel 
 Brand, with an obvious struggle to sum 
 mon all his fortitude ; " to-day that rela 
 tion necessarily no longer exists." 
 
 " No longer exists ! " 
 
 " Assuredly not." 
 
 " May I beg you to explain this ex 
 traordinary observation, sir ? " said Ruth- 
 ven. " In Heaven s name, why should I 
 not be still Miss Brand s accepted suit 
 or?" 
 
 " Because the engagement of my Lord 
 Ruthven was to Miss Honoria Brand, 
 the daughter of Colonel Brand, of Ri- 
 vanna therefore to the heiress of one 
 of the amplest fortunes in Virginia " 
 
 " Well, well, sir ! " 
 
 The exclamation was almost impa 
 tient. 
 
 " That was yesterday. To-day things 
 are different. Your engagement was to 
 a young lady of great possessions, not 
 to a portionless girl. Therefore it termi 
 nates." 
 
 "Terminates? Do I hear aright, 
 sir? Am I, then, a vulgar person with 
 out dignity or sentiments of honor ? Did 
 you really suppose that, in paying my 
 addresses to Miss Brand, I was actuated 
 by the desire of gain f " 
 
 "No, my lord but this is a painful 
 subject; let us not further discuss it." 
 
 "Willingly, sir! The discussion *s 
 very far from agreeable to me. I have 
 listened to the statement of your family 
 affairs, sir, and appreciate the compli 
 ment paid me in making me a partici 
 pant. That subject is now dismissed, 
 and I may be permitted to pass to one 
 more agreeable to myself. No change 
 will take place, I trust, in the time fixed 
 npon for my union with Miss Brand." 
 
 "No change! the time! Impossi 
 ble this union is impossible, my lord ! 
 
 My daughter yesterday would have 
 brought you a princely dower : to-day, 
 she scarce possesses more than the cloth 
 ing she wears! " 
 
 Ruthven inclined his head. " Tis 
 sufficient dowry for Miss Brand," he 
 said. 
 
 " Impossible, my lord! " 
 
 Ruthven became almost irritated. 
 
 " In the name of Heaven, sir ! " he 
 said, "what differen.ce is there in the 
 fact you state ? " 
 
 " I cannot !" 
 
 Ruthven grew cool and ceremonious 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Colonel Brand," he said, " you are 
 incapable of acting otherwise than as a 
 gentleman, and observing your word. 
 Well, I insist upon the performance of 
 your promise that you keep your 
 plighted word ! " 
 
 "How can I?" exclaimed the agi 
 tated father, u the thing is not possible ! 
 I repeat, sir, that we are beggars beg 
 gars! and that my child is penniless! 
 There are some promises which a gentle 
 man should not be called upon to ob 
 serve! it violates every sentiment of 
 my bosom to take advantage of your 
 magnanimity, and yield. Once more, 
 sir, we have nothing absolutely noth 
 ing ! And it is not, permit me to say, in 
 accordance with rny views of propriety 
 with my weakness of pride, if you 
 choose to permit a daughter of my 
 house to leave her father s roof-tree like 
 the child of a peasant; to go forth, 
 naked and portionless, to the stranger." 
 
 Honoria and Innis had listened to 
 this colloquy with an alternate hope 
 and terror which cruelly agitated them. 
 Hope, despair, every emotion, tore their 
 hearts ; and now all hung upon the re 
 ply of Ruthven. 
 
 It came, and was uttered firmly and 
 deliberately. 
 
 " I have but one response to make to 
 all you have said, sir : / hold you rigid 
 ly to the performance of your solemn 
 
RUTHVEN S OATH. 
 
 89 
 
 promise to your plighted word of honor" 
 The words were slow, measured, and 
 fell one by one, as it were, from the com 
 pressed lips of the speaker. 
 
 "My word of honor!" murmured 
 Colonel Brand. 
 
 " I mean your contract, if you prefer 
 the word, sir, but word of honor is a 
 stronger charm to conjure by, with per 
 sons of your character. You accepted 
 me as your daughter s suitor ; gave me 
 your word that she should become Lady 
 Ruthven. There all discussion ends, for 
 you are a gentleman, and nollesse oNige." 
 
 Colonel Brand s head sank. 
 
 "Well, have it as you will, my 
 lord," he said ; "you have overcome me 
 by this appeal to my honor. You de 
 mand the performance of my plighted 
 word. I yield, and consent to your union 
 with my daughter. But, bear witness, 
 all present, that I resisted this proposal 
 to the last." 
 
 He turned toward Honoria, looking 
 at her with deep melancholy. 
 
 kt Pride ! pride ! " he muttered, in an 
 agitated voice; "how despotic is that 
 sentiment ! Would to God I had a por 
 tion for you, my child ! my joy, my life, 
 well nigh ! That you should go forth a 
 penniless betrothed! Bear with me, my 
 lord ! I am growing old, and prouder 
 each day, I think ! This is hard hard ! 
 But all is over; Honoria is your own, my 
 Lord Ruthven her hand awaits you 
 but where she will thus await you when 
 you come to claim her, I know not." 
 
 " Miss Brand will await my Lord 
 Ruthven at Rivanna ! " 
 
 The words rang out, cold and meas 
 ured, in the sudden silence. They were 
 uttered by Innis, who advanced a step as 
 he spoke ; and now, taking the will of 
 Colonel Seaton from the table, tore it in 
 pieces. 
 
 " As the representative .of my moth 
 er, I am the legal owner of the estate of 
 Rivanna," he added. " This paper is 
 the evidence of my right and title, and 
 
 I choose to destroy it. My cousin will 
 thus have a suitable portion on her mar 
 riage, and will await my Lord Ruthven 
 in the home of her family." 
 
 The words were uttered in the same 
 cold and deliberate tone, and Innis turned 
 toward Lady Brand and Honoria. 
 
 "I thank you for your goodness to 
 me, aunt, and thank Heaven too, that I 
 am able to make you this small and poor 
 return for all your love and tenderness ; 
 for you have been like my own dear 
 mother. But do not overvalue my act. 
 For myself, I ask nothing; I care not 
 for this property. I shall leave Virginia, 
 and, as this is our last meeting, farewell. 
 May God bless and keep you and Ho 
 noria!" 
 
 He turned toward the girl as he 
 spoke, and his pale lips moved as though 
 he wished to say something to her. But 
 no words were heard. The agony of his 
 soul had rendered the young man speech 
 less, and he turned away and left the 
 apartment. 
 
 The actors in this singular scene re 
 mained silent and motionless. 
 
 Upon the floor at Colonel Brand s 
 feet, lay the fragments of the will which 
 had fallen from the hands of Innis at the 
 moment when he tore the document to 
 pieces. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 RUTHVEN S OATH. 
 
 ON the night succeeding these events, 
 Lord Ruthven sat up until nearly day 
 light, writing. He was plainly not en 
 gaged upon an ordinary letter ; the thin 
 and nervous hand moved with painful 
 deliberation over the paper ; and the ex 
 pression of Ruthven s face was that of 
 a man who has bid farewell to his last 
 hope on earth. 
 
 This man was evidently the victim 
 of some secret misery which blotted out 
 all sunshine from his existence ; his face 
 was as pale as death, his lips like ashes ; 
 
90 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 and from time to time he glanced over 
 his shoulder with wild and startled eyes, 
 as though he feared the presence of some 
 terrible intruder. 
 
 At last he threw down the pen. He 
 had not written rapidly; rather slowly, 
 painfully, with obvious effort and repug 
 nance ; and the sheets which he had cov 
 ered with writing were not numerous. 
 He reflected for an instant ; raised and 
 read over the sheets one by one ; then 
 folded them securely, sealed them, im 
 pressing his signet-ring deeply into the 
 wax, and deposited the package in his 
 breast. 
 
 Ruthven then uttered a deep sigh, 
 and, rising, looked around him. Fergus 
 was seated in a corner of the great fire 
 place, nodding over the dying embers ; 
 for nothing could induce the old clans 
 man, with his rigid views of respect and 
 propriety, to retire to his own pallet un 
 til he had assisted his master in his toi 
 let. Ruthven had quite forgotten his 
 presence now ; but, as he rose, Fergus 
 stood up, and, in respectful silence, pre 
 pared to wait upon his lord. 
 
 Ruthven motioned him to resume his 
 seat, and said in a low voice : 
 
 " I have written it down, Fergus." 
 
 " Written what, my lord ? " was the 
 calm reply. 
 
 "The whole truth " 
 
 Fergus gazed intently at his master. 
 
 " The truth ? " he said. 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " The whole * " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 Fergus inclined his head, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 "Things may take the course that 
 the devil would have them take," said 
 Ruthven, gloomily, " I know not Fate 
 drags us. But I do not wish to be re 
 garded as a monster of blood. Hence all 
 is here written that all may be known." 
 
 " It is well, my lord." 
 
 "I had it again last night, as you 
 know," said Ruthven, in a low tone. 
 
 "I supposed as much." 
 
 "Ypu had the right." 
 
 " Naturally, my lord ; inasmuch as 
 your lordship sprang from your bed at 
 midnight, caught up your sword, and 
 when I grappled with you, and took 
 stops that you should not harm your 
 self, your lordship made an attempt to 
 put an end to me." 
 
 Ruthven groaned. 
 
 "0 Fergus! Fergus! how and when 
 will this end?" he exclaimed. "Par 
 don your poor, miserable master, my 
 old friend ! Better, far better that I were 
 insane, a diseased lunatic, than the 
 wretched being that I am, sane as I may 
 be!" 
 Fergus did not reply. 
 
 "Some day I shall kill you, Fergus 
 you, the most faithful of my blood, for 
 you are of the very blood of Ruthven, 
 Fergus ! " 
 
 The old man s face was lit up with 
 pride and happiness, as he listened to 
 these words, and, when he spoke, his 
 voice showed that he was greatly moved. 
 
 "Your lordship is very good, and 
 makes your old clansman happy ! They 
 do say that my great-great-grandfather 
 was fifth cousin on the mother s side, to 
 your lordship s ancestor. But, doubtless 
 tis folly for the clansman to compare 
 himself with his lord let us think of 
 other matters." 
 
 " I can scarce think, to-night, my 
 head is in a whirl, Fergus. I go on a 
 dark and bloody path, whose end I know 
 not." 
 
 "Why not stop, then ? " 
 
 " I cannot I cannot ! " 
 
 Fergus replied with the eternal move 
 ment of his head, that said : " I am the 
 clansman, you my chief I obey." 
 
 " You say to me Stop, but to stop is 
 impossible now, even had I the power 
 over my own will ! The betrothal has 
 taken place in regular form ; the word 
 of Ruthven is pledged, and cannot be 
 recalled and more, more if more bind- 
 
RUTHVEN S OATH. 
 
 91 
 
 ing reason could exist you know what 
 I would say ; I love this girl ! love her 
 with all the power of my being, and 
 will dare the worst ! " 
 
 "So be it, my lord," said Fergus, 
 coolly raking the brands together; "it 
 is unfortunate but fatal, you say." 
 
 "Yes, fatal, awful!" 
 
 A long silence followed these words. 
 Kuthven broke it by a groan. 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! " he exclaimed. " I 
 cannot, I will not believe it ! I will not 
 be ensnared so horribly, even though the 
 devil set the trap ! " 
 
 "He is a good hand at snares and 
 traps, this same devil, my lord." 
 
 "Speak not of it! " 
 
 "I obey your lordship tis well your 
 order came in time." 
 
 " You were about to say " 
 
 " Your lordship bids me be silent." 
 
 " I would say that you have been 
 duly warned." 
 
 " Yes, yes!" 
 
 " You have seen both the man and 
 the woman ; things are advancing as they 
 were doomed to advance ; your lordship 
 has told me all " 
 
 " No, not all ! I have not told you 
 what I saw last night ! " said Ruthven, in 
 a horror-struck whisper, which thrilled 
 through the old clansman. 
 
 "Last night?" he said, fixing his 
 eyes upon his master. " What was 
 that?" 
 
 " I saw the actual spot the whole 
 nothing was left out ! " 
 
 Fergus became slightly pale, but said, 
 in a coal voice : 
 
 "And yet, after this, you do not give 
 up the affair ? " 
 
 " I cannot ; I am powerless." 
 
 Fergus nodded only, and this indiffer 
 ence seemed almost to enrage his master. 
 
 " Your coldness drives me mad near 
 ly ! " he cried through his set teeth ; 
 "you do not understand, then, that I am 
 on the ~brink of an awful precipice ! " 
 
 And, as though he had not intended 
 to utter these particular words as 
 though they had forced themselves from 
 his lips without an act of the will, Lord 
 Ruthven started, shuddered convulsive 
 ly, and turned so pale that he seemed 
 about to faint. 
 
 " My lord," said Fergus, "I have but 
 one reply to make to all this ; but, as I 
 have already frequently made that reply, 
 I shall not trouble you with it again." 
 
 "Speak! speak!" 
 
 " Well, I say again, my lord, Give up 
 this affair, and let us go back to Scot 
 land. " 
 
 " I cannot ! " 
 
 " An answer which your lordship has 
 before made ; so be it. I see no advan 
 tage in further discussion at this hour of 
 the night." 
 
 " A last word, Fergus listen." 
 
 " I listen, my lord." 
 
 Lord Ruthven s feverish excitement 
 all at once disappeared, and he now said, 
 with a strange pathos and earnestness : 
 
 " Fergus, my faithful friend, and fos 
 ter-brother, you at least must not misap 
 prehend me, and execrate my memory. 
 Listen, then. Despite the Evil One and 
 all his spirits, I will steel myself against 
 temptation, and rather plunge that pon 
 iard yonder into my heart than become 
 the tool of Satan ! I cannot draw back 
 now and return to Europe; my honor 
 and my love both draw me on ; but I 
 would here, upon the threshold, without 
 a tremor of the nerve, put an end to my 
 own existence, if I thought I should 
 yield in this frightful drama. Death a 
 thousand deaths first ! , I swear I will 
 crush this fate ! I have resolved, Fergus, 
 even to resort to self-destruction first ! 
 Living or dying thus, my faithful Fer 
 gus must love, not curse, my memory ! " 
 
 Ruthven held out his hand to Fergus, 
 who bent over it and pressed it to his 
 trembling lips. As the lips touched it, 
 the young nobleman felt a hot tear fall 
 upon his hand. 
 
92 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 " In life and death I am your clans 
 man it is you who are the chief! " 
 
 And ; as he uttered these low words, 
 the old man s heart melted, and he 
 sobhed aloud. 
 
 XL. 
 
 THE HEAET OF A CHILD. 
 
 THEEE has survived the tempest of 
 these events which we are recording, a 
 little MS. volume in which Meta, the or 
 phan, wrote down her whole life. Many 
 pages of this book are painful ; many 
 full of a strange pathos. It is a record 
 of the child s inner life, of her struggles, 
 pangs, happinesses, and unhappinesses, 
 naive, eloquent, moving but sacred for 
 its very candor and unreserve. 
 
 From this record the following leaf 
 is taken, as necessary to the comprehen 
 sion of our history, which deals less with 
 Meta than with others. It was written, 
 as the reader will perceive, immediately 
 after her restoration to reason, and clear 
 ly paints her life and feelings at the mo 
 ment : 
 
 " After a long sleep, I seem to have 
 awakened, as it were no longer a poor, 
 insane human creature, but, as mamma 
 taught me to read in the Holy Book, 
 * clothed, and in my right mind. 
 
 " I have lived for years, I think, in a 
 sort of dream-life, like twilight when 
 the sun has gone down ; and the world 
 around me now seems so strange, and 
 so sad ! Naught surrounds me but un- 
 happiness and, me, lie is the unhap- 
 piest of all ! Shall I write of him and 
 of myself ? I scarce dare place this feel 
 ing upon paper, but why should I not? 
 It was, and is, only love the fond, sim 
 ple love of a poor child that I felt for 
 him Edmund. I write the name, Ed 
 mund, with a throb of the heart ; but, 
 tis written, and gives me strength to go 
 on. I loved him very, very much, and 
 love him as dearly now : but, no longer 
 
 to watch him, and scheme to make him 
 unhappy. Oh, no, no! I would give 
 my life for him my poor, worthless life, 
 which I think will not last long. I think 
 I could die happy, telling him, Tis for 
 your happiness I die ! 
 
 " I must not write down these excla 
 mations, but remember what has hap 
 pened, rather than what I have felt. At 
 Kivanna, I was very, very vile I was 
 nearly the death of my dearly -loved Ho- 
 noria, by frightening her so ; and I then 
 acted from a base, wretched jealousy of 
 her. I was so vile that I could have 
 killed her to separate her and him ! 
 Now, all is changed. It may be even 
 that I shall bring him happiness. By 
 my act, he is no longer a poor, penniless 
 boy, but the lord of Kivanna. 
 
 " This came about so strangely ! In 
 the old chest, where I tried to hide that 
 night, I found many things which I hid 
 away, and, among others, a paper which 
 became mixed with my clothes, and was 
 so brought to the capital. Before I knew 
 any thing of this, came that strange 
 change in my whole life the removal, 
 by Dr. Vandyke, my dear, good friend, 
 of the cause of my insanity. I remem 
 ber nothing of that, save a strange, dull 
 feeling, a sinking, and an awakening, to 
 find my reason, and my power of hear 
 ing and speaking, all restored. Of my 
 rapture I cannot speak. It was like en 
 tering a new world, and I recalled but 
 dimly what had taken place in all those 
 years, during which I was a poor, un 
 reasoning, cunning, scheming lunatic. 
 And it was just at this moment that, 
 looking in my travelling-trunk one day, 
 I chanced to discover the paper taken 
 from the old chest, and remembered 
 where I had found it. I read it with 
 wonder, and scarcely understanding it 
 at first, but soon its great importance 
 was plain to me. I had heard vague ru 
 mors of another will of Colonel Seaton s, 
 and, now, here was this will, leaving all 
 ais property to Edmund s mother ! 
 
THE HEART OF A CHILD. 
 
 93 
 
 " I held the paper in my hand, gazing 
 at it with a fixed look, and thinking. 
 To think was almost a pain to me, but 
 gradually I linked one thought to an 
 other, and said to myself : This paper, 
 which makes Edmund wealthy, gives him 
 Honoria. Her father would never con 
 sent to Honoria s marriage with a penni 
 less youth ; hut, if the youth be a rich 
 suitor, the master of Rivanna, he will 
 consent ! That thought dazzled me, 
 and made me wretched. Then lie and 
 Honoria would be happy / should be 
 wretched ! In my hand I held their fu 
 ture life it would be / who would give 
 her to him ! I shook, and felt the evil 
 spirit tempting me. To burn the paper 
 would be as easy as to produce it. Why 
 not burn it ? 
 
 "I looked at the paper for a little 
 while, and then fell on my knees, and 
 prayed for strength to resist temptation ; 
 and got up, and ran to dear aunt, and 
 cried: Here it is! here it is! Take 
 it take it ! She looked at me in great 
 surprise, and wished me to tell her where 
 I had gotten the paper ; but I burst out 
 crying, and for a long time went on 
 sobbing, as she clasped me in her dear 
 arms. Then I told her, and she hurried 
 ly called Uncle Brand, who came quick 
 ly, and read the paper, turning very pale 
 as he did so. "When he had read it in 
 silence, and turned it over, and examined 
 it, he groaned, and said : This beggars 
 us; but there is but one thing to be 
 done. Rivanna is not ours, but his ; and 
 must be surrendered to him. He then 
 questioned me, and I told him of the 
 discovery of the paper, when he knit his 
 brows, but said no more, and left the 
 room, carrying the paper with him. A 
 painful scene followed this. I was led 
 by aunt one morning into the drawing- 
 room, and Edmund and Lord Ruthven 
 soon came, and Uncle Brand spoke of 
 the will. Edmund tore it in pieces, and 
 left the room Lord Ruthven having 
 claimed, as he said, Uncle Brand s 
 
 plighted word of honor that he should 
 marry Cousin Honoria. 
 
 " Poor, poor, Honoria ! There is no 
 hope for her or for him Edmund ! Un^ 
 cle Brand is not to be moved, and Ilono- 
 ria and Lord Ruthven will surely be 
 married. I do not rejoice at it oh, no 
 no ! My heart bleeds to think of his 
 unhappiness of how much he will suf 
 fer. Why, oh, why do such things hap 
 pen in this world? Why should his 
 heart be broken when he loves Honoria 
 so and all that she may marry a lord ? 
 What is a lord ? Is he better than a 
 gentleman ? Compare Edmund and Lord 
 Ruthven, and who shall say that Ed 
 mund is not the better worth loving? 
 But there is no hope for him. Uncle 
 Brand would rather die, and have his 
 daughter made miserable, than break his 
 word when he has once given it. I 
 heard him say as much, but I do not 
 think that he understands or believes she 
 will be unhappy. He has said to aunt, 
 more than once, in my hearing : Pshaw ! 
 this fancy for her cousin is nothing. 
 Lady Ruthven will soon be consoled ; 
 women are fickle ! Are they ? I know 
 not how it may be with others : but one 
 poor, weak girl a girl, not a woman 
 would die if she could buy thus the hap 
 piness of one she has loved long, and 
 dearly, and faithfully ! 
 
 " I am not well to-day. Exposure in 
 a thin dress at the great assembly, at the 
 governor s palace, has given me what 
 aunt calls a cold, and a sharp pang 
 strikes through my breast at times. I 
 feel so weak ; but all is in God s hands. 
 He knows what is best for me. My life 
 is not sunshine that I should cling to it, 
 and I see little happiness for me in the 
 future. And, yet, I do not repine. He 
 can never love me ; but I can love him, 
 and pray for him, and think night and 
 day of him. Oh, may he be happier, 
 and forget this misery, and be a good 
 man, and think sometimes, when I am 
 gone, of his poor Meta ! " 
 
IN 
 
 i i; \ \ i> . i i 
 
 I 11 li ,. I i ill. n otl 1 1" i" " I l- i 
 
 I" I l I I Hi, I. .11 \ ..II Ml|..||| || , I l|. 
 
 l-lol Mi. n. I I. .1 u U Wl ltt< n 
 
 \N I- | \\ iN I. MI I.. .,, n 
 
 I I, MI . I. .1,1 i,,, .,i,, , I...I I HUM I |B) ,, 
 
 in i.. I., ill ,,,,! M. il I I, ,11 n,.l || | Mi. 
 
 ..|,i H. rtov . i , .,,.1 u iii i., doni i i 
 
 III . I , I I Illlll. Il, I. II 
 
 l"ll Ml. , ,,..) il MM | | |>. In, .in. I 
 
 ,,. 
 
 I III I I 1 1 I 
 
 \\ 111 il \\ i i inn, .mi, , ,1 I li ,1 " I ho 
 
 l : -i -ni.l ho ml y " -in, I li. i il i . ,|ii ,11 \ 
 
 |,.\ , l\ flintol \> . I o ill . .ill I.. lo:i\ o I li. 
 
 . lp,| ,1 III Ml. Il, I M ,.| Ml, I , I, I,, I,:. 
 
 I II. I | . -doll I,.,. I, |.l:|, | 
 
 M,, ,11 ,i,| , ,,| |l, ,( ill ml .pooh. 
 
 II.Mi.M ill In,, I |. -nliMlh , ii I M . ,1 in, M. 
 
 tli MI OM. h,i, ... ,,||, M ,Mii " ,,( Mi, |il:|oo 
 
 mi. I UN,,. . -in. I Mi. . n. >\\ nil. i . ,1 pil, ..n , 
 
 |,< IL , ml . u.l. ,1 ilopni Ini . . \\ i ,.(, 
 
 \ . . in ii. i ii. -II, .i . Hi, i ATOM in- - "wmii 
 in M,, i, ittompl " obi nn p, , , b oi i" i. 
 
 nn, I l.i.l li, . I n, M ,.|1 
 
 Hi,. V.M.M. I ,,h. ItoWflVOf, i. ".Infoh 
 
 It! i It II I" ill \ i llttN | . i, -MI im .! 
 
 in li. i - li mi!- -i lil..> :m MM ;li,l. MI. I |V%fl 
 
 I.I I , i,l ICnlln , n u I. ,n 
 
 . | l, .1 ml,. i I-, .in-- |.| i, , ,| 
 
 . It Mi, MM, I,., Mm || 11,, , , I 
 
 N iii-ii ! 1 i ,t Mi,> , io:ii ohfti >"( rolltd 
 
 up I, Mi,- ,|..,M Otto 1-1 i li< n ml.M m,, i M 
 
 tl.l II, Ml,- 1, -I Ml-,,!, Il, I M|-po ,| .,11. , . 
 
 ,! .,1 m !,.-, ii M , 11, u 
 
 ho h i,l i. . . M . ,1 u,M,, Q ,,| (I,. m: 
 
 " Mill I :, u ,( |,.M. 
 
 fUl.l toll, MV, , I I..M tO M,, ft) N ,!,,,,, ,,( ||M 
 
 ohtrtol MI uou.io.,.,1 ,ii i,,,, ,, ;( i. 
 
 >I>,1 Mu> npnth. 
 
 rt BOtllo.l I. In, . 1 !,. , I, H (),.,( M |,, M 
 
 I . n ,.| M,,. I-,- ml MM. I ,| l-Mi,l,M ,.| (do 
 
 oi^tt i - la - ii . IMII MM 
 
 I.l.-Mlh Illl, I.. I M , I.Ml.i 
 
 .Inuin. .l :m,l. |bO?| il 
 n.. KM.-,, I, u! M.M KOpt I 
 
 .1 lv(r..tli:l to 
 
 I ,M .1 l. nl l,\ ,n. \\ I,,, i i I. ,| IK i ml,. I I,,. 
 
 > ii M i"i I li- \ 1 1 IVift i i i i li. n 
 
 1,111.1. Ill I . I , ,1 >, I ill Mil |>. , 
 
 u i ill. .1 Mi. ii In. I \ I,.-, , i |, I. i ml |..IM 
 " .I \v . nl I in I ,,,,, Othl i lul 
 
 Ini . ""i i- 1 i" in IIM i MI 
 
 Mi. pOI I 1001 I" "I M,, \ ,,. .,;.! I 0| 
 
 Ho lloiim i II, ,,l Hi li ,.IM \\ il 
 
 I, MM .I M, Ml, I .Mil , l I I, ll |,|, ll.ll.l M,l 
 . I. I \ I.- I .,( I. II , .||, ,||,| IM I I I , I || 
 
 ,1,1 Mr- !,!, I III M , >l. I- I,!, I,, I W |. 
 
 Ml, I ,, | ,|,,, ll, I,, I I ||l,, | m.l MM, III, |, 
 
 In . .M , I, ,1 In I I 1, ,, n III, ,, . ,, I M1 ,| 
 
 \VIIK f i I" I ml IL- I MI; . -i on i I MM I o| 
 
 I i \ . I I. 
 
 Il i i u.M ill. Ti (o nnv t lint In \\ n 
 
 I liinl, MI;- ol on,> |,,<i noil -Mil \ , I .Ilium. I 
 linn i I I.- I, ml I. II \\ illi-Mii IMII || ,,MM- 
 
 linio i. . I.M. . u Ithout " h in- in- 
 
 II I. IL I I llll 111 \ Ml l-|l|,0| Illllll \ |,l ;> 
 
 IMIM POI MM. ,, I, ,1 , .loiiMml ,1 M, 
 n.ili|. t M N . i ..liin- M, ,u I,, .,,1, i ! ,, [,_ 
 
 MU Lou ItnmoV* M , .pi, .1 m, ,,, . i, ,,| 
 
 M I.M MIM linninn I-, 
 
 Ml, ,|H, , llh ; ll I n Illl \\ ll.HII. | : In 
 
 I M.ll\ , Ml :|. ol. .l H( |||,t u ill.liMV , lin ON 
 
 i .1 Mi,. > .! m, , I \\ Iii. Ii in I |,,> 
 I,M ol \ onlli nn, I l,-\, . nu, I \\ In, li \\ o 
 l,l>". liii" li :i( nn. I rojiTOl, WO. 
 
 Ho-ii,!,. Ii. i ||| (,i. vi I,,. NN , , ..|| Imppi 
 1ICM, II. MI.. i in n , Mn pn i( ,.; | i,|||O*. 
 
 II. i lilo lin.l -.ii.l.l. nl\ , li m , ,1 ,MI Mio 
 ,1 M u II.-M lioi lulli. <i Ici.l nun, MIII, >,<(| IIP. 
 \\ ill l i oiu < lint mom. -ill ,h,> li i.l In unk 
 liom Id.. IM illi Mil M. . MI.- in \\ In, li .!M> 
 ltM(t nli. -no \\ itli n n. M \ 0\|M I . PP9J in.l 
 
 i All Mint -.pi. u, I.M li i.l i,.\\ n 
 .lull MIL I .h. ni > . |hl In. i ol 
 
 . 1 I , II II . I M 
 
 upon hoi. pninh in nil II.M In, Million. 
 Mio hn.l hut on, -.,MI|IIU,MI( n,.\\ . h. 
 ll.-.l ,lo p .111 U u : i . !,MI 
 
 ili.l hii -l i, ;M,1 pi \ 
 n ,.-.; , . n, 
 
 ^ tO u li , 
 
 I, on . nn.l. hui N It m II.M- ,|iiio| 
 
 , hnmh.M in Mi.< .il.-nt ,.1,1 u nil . Q 
 \ nunn. , oll. , (. i( p 
 
 . I,M Mu> 
 
TIM: | i HfJH i (HI i i 
 
 tin 
 
 \\ ini .,. nit. . I,., i. loomed "i 1 |M fori 
 
 I" i . Ill A I "i : Inf. 
 
 I li- >li| Ininil v - Inn i<>! i .,11, -I I.. I 
 "ii ii i ! ll 
 
 (Ill < I, I, I.I 1,1 :ll I ||. I,.., | , ,,| ,,,,,, 
 
 oloai i Brand 
 
 ll l n-k I,, I <il I hit I in,, , nl, i I ,m in, Hi 
 
 ..i MI-, ii. i ,,i tin .,i.i Virginia ounti , 
 
 IK, ii - < ii !< <l lid ii mill Li .,1 
 
 mi in (in. in,,,-, ii,, Inmbi In 
 
 f{ hi, I. , ,|| :,- I. I, . it I ,1 ,, I I,,.,,, 
 
 I. i. .1 Id. ; .. ,i . ,i, OJ I ftfinO, nnl im 
 
 < , adi -I ii" inii, iipun win. ii <i,,,,, i n,, 
 
 ol<l mm |ofl 
 
 ii |,:i ied inn. ii ii MI. r i , .ii ., , i 
 
 I I , < I,IM ; 1 1 1 , 1 I , - , I i i 1 1 1 1 1 1 . < ! i < I , 1 1 , I 
 
 iii. ii i. i . . Hanoi m i""i - i ! Jii-i HI .1 
 
 |,:ll til Ullll IM . , I,. I! Mill V I,- , Will, 
 
 bough ihi MIII linn-, ini i plight -I ii" n 
 
 iM.lli, nii l n |,;ni". Ill . |D ;,. nl. j 
 < nl I.MIII, pf . .1 thr0Uglj I" 
 
 I In I . 1,1 ll|, liM l |,i . , I I,, I r.w || nil l 
 |h< li:i l I- Hi -I I" i - IK < I i||, ,n In I 
 
 ii, i Innoi Bfil " ii" obbing an " i 
 
 In |1 in . li M- I. IK i in Mi-. I long) I" " 
 
 in,-, pingi .,,1,1 ii , i i,, ; , in i, ,i i 
 Into hi i > "i i "i 1 1" ( 
 
 Of hi 10 I IK i .,;. nil 
 
 mm mm ,, !- . <iml loft A ! In |" 
 nl I IK v iii-l in I l, l< ! . | fill Unit > - . IK 
 
 IK,, o long Into i i roK " i 
 
 !,. I., I IK , md i,,.,.|. IK I V. M ! IK I 
 
 ii. had I- ii IK i troth/ -I i" 
 
 fltl.,1 IK I I IK UN I, m, i.M l HIM || 
 
 .m .ill .-I IK i III- 
 || I, ril< uri l I , I 1,1 l lin" 
 
 IK, Ion Ii iii w\\ I. trtig " 
 
 I. i i.ii l UK . ! , ;,< ,1 Mini 
 
 Whirl, liti l lnl i, |.l U ". IK i ,: 
 
 , <,iii>i K,i n|,|,i < mid "" . 
 
 nil i Wlinl Wli 1 . in I" i li;iml,< i I 
 || II, ,,!,.,,!-., 
 
 Hh h. i-l |,i nmi:-.i- l I .( Ml 
 
 fin. I | IK n -IK | l,n I I-, IK i 
 
 ,|>| I M - 
 
 pi ,,,,,,.1, .1 IK i .,1 IK | 
 |,[||,|.im ,H I M,IK|- IK I -. M ! hi I 
 
 |(|( I,;, II -/. I,- r< h< ""I 
 
 -.M. n | ill , .1 n|. . in.l ,!,., n m 
 hn|i|,v lull. MK dl ", . I,, i . 
 mi limn , . imi, . I,, .,11 I, ,,| ||. 
 
 lli HIK i,l | hof HlOttlOl Imml. i . M I" 
 
 11 I- "! i" " i" b il H I- n i ! "i v 
 
 III . III. M I II. 
 
 IK I , MM ;!, ,1 , I, MI bj thl Bfl | l " 
 
 ii . m. .1 i iii i., . , i .un 1 1,. imp] 
 
 l"i ". 1 1,- . , MIK! ,i liun.li . .1 ,,l IK i |, iii In 
 >,l I IK IK, ii , , ! I ill | ...I , -,| Inn, i , ilhli|r 
 Inni I., inili l _ OIK! I I. ,i,,,i |n . . . |,|KI, -I 
 ililn fi -I |. ill ,i I Ilinii i.n-, .-. In. Ii 
 
 IK I, ...I , , I , |,, I i, n. , ,| ),, |, || ||.,\V 
 
 I IK lull . I. nl .,1 I...I IK l.ii l I,. I 
 
 IK n fit, In Hi I" I I,, . IK I , ll H|>. Ii IK ( 
 I, I Ml IIK 1,1 III , III ..I | , , |, 
 
 ||| I ll I lilll ll. Ill ll WOlll l I.. 
 III I ll ..Ml IK 
 
 r,ni ii,. 
 
 1 i., :IIKI o< Hanoi \6 I- ii ii .m 
 
 I I "I" ! I M IPII 
 
 ! , . . . i i.n i,, i , hatnbi < . ""i i 
 
 .|.,m nl I. i -I IIKK . I Inm n !, . .,,,,!,,. n 
 
 pi " - vvonlw iti i i"-i. to l 
 
 In IK , 
 
 Mho Hi-fim -I i" i. lool Ing foi 
 
 III, I 101 I "I I- I I , I I" Iin dlj I. ill M. 
 
 f.VV hi " I ""I l " h 
 
 V* H wmil l n| |" (if nl "> l l...im 
 
 ll. I |l:,|l|. \\ I, II I ll ll I tO( I*. 
 
 IK i IK |httd4< " I ""I 
 
 III 
 
 MII 
 
 | i | ,1 
 
 i , WIH H MM I I I i , fiii l OK 
 
 .,! , ,,i ,i.. Q{ m I. QOi - lir.j/ 
 I 
 
 , , IK, ll, UK dl I 
 
 Oolotidl Brand f< " "c nl 
 
 iintlv m h 
 
 
 
 ,n.| [i |,i i .,n hOffl ! I 
 
 ,,n I IK ! 
 
 MK I I , , " 
 
96 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 and older day by day; and Meta, who 
 spent most of her time upon a couch, 
 breathing with difficulty, was often sur 
 prised shedding tears. 
 
 The only member of the family who 
 preserved even the semblance of a sad 
 cheerfulness was Lou Brand, whose 
 buoyant disposition enabled her to com 
 bat in som e slight degree the general 
 tendency to gloom. Phil Gary was at 
 Rivanna almost daily for he was the 
 formally-acknowledged affiance of the 
 young lady; and they talked intermi 
 nably of the sad state of things. 
 
 One day Lou Brand, after gazing for 
 some moments into the fire, said : 
 
 " Philip, you really must find where 
 Edmund is, and why we never hear of 
 or from him." 
 
 " You then wish me to try again ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes ! " 
 
 " You know how unsuccessful I have 
 been. As soon as I got back from Wil- 
 liamsburg, I lost no time in going to find 
 him, knowing that he had ridden already 
 away from the capital. I rode up the 
 mountain to his house, and found doors, 
 windows, shutters, all closed, and not 
 even a servant. I tried a second time 
 knocked shouted no one came. Shall 
 I make a third attempt ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I must know something about 
 him ! Yesterday my poor Honoria asked 
 me, in a low voice, what had become of 
 him, and I could tell her nothing." 
 
 Phil Gary sighed deeply. 
 
 " I will try once more, then," he said, 
 " but would to Heaven this sad tragedy 
 were over ! " 
 
 " Would that it were ! Rivanna, that 
 was so cheerful once, is like a tomb. 
 Meta is hopelessly ill, I fear, and I shall 
 not be astonished to find her take to her 
 bed at any instant. O me! what will 
 become of us ! " 
 
 And the impulsive and warm-hearted 
 girl burst into tears. She almost instant 
 ly dried her eyes, however, and said : 
 
 " Why not go to-day ? " 
 
 "To-day? I shall lose so much of 
 your society. You know I am com 
 pelled to go to Williamsburg on business 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " The more reason, Philip, to relieve 
 poor Honoria s mind. Try, for the last 
 time, to see Edmund ; it will make my 
 poor sister happier to hear of him, and 
 we can do nothing better in this sad 
 world than to make somebody happier." 
 
 Phil Gary looked at the speaker with 
 great tenderness, and exclaimed : 
 
 "You are a dear, good girl, Lou! 
 That anybody should regard you as 
 careless and unthinking! I will go at 
 once, and return before evening, if pos 
 sible." 
 
 And, in ten minutes, the young man 
 was on horseback, riding in the direc 
 tion of the western mountains. 
 
 It was a dreary, chilling landscape 
 through which he passed. On the day 
 before, a heavy snow had fallen, and the 
 fields were one great shroud ; the moun 
 tain evergreens weighed down with the 
 masses of snow which had clung to them. 
 The atmosphere, gray, hazy, and omi 
 nous, indicated another storm ; and the 
 wind, rising and falling fitfully, died 
 away, in the dense masses of pine, in a 
 sorrowful moan. 
 
 Phil Gary pushed on through the 
 deep snow, following the narrow road 
 only by means of the opening in the firs, 
 for no track was visible ; and thus slow 
 ly and with difficulty ascended the 
 mountain, amid whose gorges the wind, 
 now grown keener, howled and groaned. 
 But one living thing had met his gaze 
 an immense eagle, which rose, flapping 
 his enormous wings, from a pine-tree, as 
 the rider approached, to wing his way 
 deeper into the solitary fastnesses. 
 
 An hour s ride brought the young 
 man at last in sight of Innis s small 
 house in a gash of the mountain. No 
 smoke rose from the chimney ; no sign 
 of habitation was visible. He dismount 
 ed, knocked, received no reply, then he 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE S DIAGNOSIS. 
 
 97 
 
 shouted ; still no reply came ; and at 
 the end of half an hour the young man 
 remounted his horse, and descended the 
 mountain by the same path which he 
 had pursued in ascending. He had ut 
 tered but two words as he turned away 
 from the deserted house 
 
 " Poor Edmund ! " 
 
 At Rivanna distressing intelligence 
 greeted him. Meta had been taken sud 
 denly ill, and at one time Lady Brand, 
 who had been hastily summoned, feared 
 that she would die. "When the young 
 man reached the house, she was better ; 
 but such was Lady Brand s anxiety, that 
 she requested Phil Gary, whose design 
 of visiting the capital was known to her, 
 to beg Dr. Vandyke to come, if possible, 
 and see the child. 
 
 " Nothing stops that very remarkable 
 man, when he can relieve suffering," said 
 Lady Brand. " Beg him to come to me, 
 Philip I feel as though his presence 
 would do good to us all. "We are a sad, a 
 very sad family, Philip ! " 
 
 And the kind lady hastened to the 
 side of Meta. 
 
 On the next morning Phil Gary set 
 out for "Williamsburg. 
 
 Five days afterward, hour for hour 
 from that evening, Dr. Vandyke got out 
 of his carriage, and, entering the house, 
 said: 
 
 "Well, how is the child?" 
 
 XLIII. 
 DE. VANDYKE S DIAGNOSIS. 
 
 DR. VANDYKE arrived toward night 
 fall, and was up with Meta until a late 
 hour of the night. 
 
 On the next morning he requested 
 that his carriage might be ordered, as it 
 was necessary that he should return to 
 Williamsburg. 
 
 Colonel Brand, of whom this request 
 was made, protested with ceremonious 
 
 courtesy against this sudden return ; but 
 the eccentric physician responded : 
 
 " I have my sick to see to. I must go, 
 but desire first some conversation with 
 yourself, sir." 
 
 "Some conversation, sir ?" repeated 
 Colonel Brand. 
 
 " In private." 
 
 "Willingly, sir." 
 
 And the colonel led the way to the 
 library, closing the door behind them. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke came to the point with 
 his habitual directness. 
 
 " Do you know that two members of 
 your household are as good as dying ? " 
 he said. 
 
 " Two members I good Heavens, 
 sir! You mean " 
 
 "Your daughter Honoria, and the 
 child Meta." 
 
 Colonel Brand looked inexpressibly 
 shocked; but, before he could reply, the 
 physician continued in the same abrupt, 
 matter-of-fact voice : 
 
 "First, to speak of Meta. She 
 * caught cold, as fools say, at the gov 
 ernor s ball, where, after the mad fashion 
 of young ladies in general, she went in a 
 gossamer dress, and shoes as thin as 
 paper that is to say, her lungs, never 
 strong, became diseased the disease 
 was not crushed in its infancy, as per 
 haps might have been done ; and the 
 consequence is, that the projected wed 
 ding of your daughter Honoria promises 
 to be followed by a funeral." 
 
 " Your intelligence deeply distresses 
 me ! " exclaimed Colonel Brand. " I 
 had not supposed " 
 
 " That things were so bad, you would 
 say?" 
 
 "I had not, sir." 
 
 " Well, I put you in possession of the 
 exact state of the case." 
 
 Colonel Brand knit his brows. Sud 
 denly he turned to the physician. 
 
 But" he said. 
 
 "You mean that Meta is not Miss 
 Brand?" 
 
98 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 " You spoke also of Miss Brand, sir- 
 made, if I understood you aright, a very 
 surprising statement in regard to her. 1 1 
 
 " I did. I said that Honoria Brand 
 was as good as dying as bad, I should 
 have said ; for death, whatever fanciful 
 people say, is bad, very bad and not 
 good in any sense." 
 
 " You astound me, sir ! Honoria ill? 
 I was aware that the dissipations of the 
 capital, extremely late hours, and excite 
 ment, had 
 
 " Colonel Brand," said Dr. Vandyke. 
 " Sir ! " 
 
 " Do you consider me a fool ? " 
 "A fool? Really, sir, this conversa 
 tion, you will permit me to say, is assum 
 ing an unusual a very unusual charac 
 ter ! " 
 
 " Because I speak to the point ; and 
 speaking to the point, I grant you, is un 
 usual in this world of froth and circum 
 locution ! I say that you either regard 
 me as a ninny, or you wish to avoid hear 
 ing what I am going to tell you since 
 you know, as well as I know, that Ho- 
 noria s condition is due in no measure 
 whatever to either late hours, dissipa 
 tion, or excitement in society." 
 
 " Indeed, sir," said Colonel Brand, 
 
 drawing himself up with some hauteur, 
 
 " you are very good to take the trouble 
 
 of informing yourself so profoundly upon 
 
 the private affairs of my family." 
 
 " I have the right to do so." 
 
 " What right, sir ? " 
 
 " The right of a man who was once 
 
 in love with your wife, and who swore 
 
 to her when the last parting came when 
 
 she was about to marry that if ever she 
 
 were in trouble, and I could help her, 1 
 
 would speak out, caring for nothing, and 
 
 be a friend to her ! " 
 
 The announcement seemed wellnigh 
 to take away the stately colonel s breath 
 He gazed at the now fiery Dr. Vandyke 
 who was glaring at him fixedly, with a 
 mixture of astonishment and hauteur 
 wonderful to see. 
 
 " You know now why I am meddling 
 n your family affairs," said the eccentric 
 physician. " You call it meddling well, 
 ! reply that meddling is meddling : and 
 ! am simply affording you information 
 aying before you the result of a medical 
 diagnosis, made last night, of your 
 daughter s condition. Act as you please 
 it is no part of my business to try the 
 pathetic. I tell you that Honoria Brand 
 s the victim of what is called, in the 
 mummery of society, a decline that is 
 :o say, she is undermined by a slow fever 
 which is going to kill her ; and the 
 fever is due, neither to dissipation, late 
 hours, nor excitement, but to the pros 
 pect of marrying Lord Ruthven, when 
 she loves her cousin, Edmund Innis." 
 
 The words were blurted out with lit 
 tle ceremony. Dr. Vandyke was, evi 
 dently, either too much in earnest to 
 care for forms, or aimed, by the very 
 rudeness of his address, to strike more 
 heavily, and produce the desired effect. 
 His words, indeed, seemed to impress 
 Colonel Brand strangely. He turned red 
 and then pale, his lip trembled slightly, 
 and he cleared his throat twice before 
 replying. 
 
 " Your very ahem ! extraordinary 
 communication," he at length said, with 
 affected coolness and ceremony, which 
 his agitation belied, " leaves me at a loss, 
 sir, how to reply. I am, then, to regard 
 this communication as due to 
 
 " My affection for Lady Brand ? Yes. 
 Let that be stated plainly. I was her 
 suitor a poor suitor. She married you. 
 Well, I said nothing; did not make a 
 fool of myself by falling into a rage. I 
 said, A woman chooses her own desti 
 ny or has it chosen for her I will be 
 this one s friend in spite of all ; and I 
 prove myself her friend by saying to you, 
 If you persist in this design of forcing 
 your daughter into the arms of Ruthven, 
 he will have a corpse for a bride 1 
 
 Dr. Vandyke rose as he spoke, and 
 added : 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE S DIAGNOSIS. 
 
 99 
 
 "I have said all that I intended to 
 say, except to communicate a slight cir 
 cumstance of which you may be igno 
 rant." 
 
 " Your slight circumstance, if it 
 please you, sir," said Colonel Brand, 
 with sudden ire, " your chivalric espou 
 sal of the interests of my family, leads me 
 to anticipate newer and more startling 
 intelligence ! " 
 
 " Pride pride ! " growled Dr. Van 
 dyke, sotto voce. " This figure in buck 
 ram, dubbed colonel, is a simulacrum 
 worked by that mainspring ! Pull the 
 string, he jumps to it ! " 
 
 "You say, sir " 
 
 " That I am a fool to come here, and 
 give you the result of my diagnosis of 
 your daughter s condition. I am an in 
 truder a meddler ! Well, at least, you 
 know all now. I tell you that Ilonoria 
 Brand is sinking day by day under this 
 terror that her life is not worth twelve 
 months purchase ; that she loves one 
 man with absolute passion, and you think 
 to force her, without fatal results, into 
 the embrace of another! Do so, then 
 you are master ! I am not here to beg 
 you to do this or to do that. I have no 
 more to say yes, one word more, to in 
 form you of the trifling circumstance to 
 which allusion was made by me just 
 now. Your proposed son-in-law, my 
 Lord Ruthven, is mad." 
 
 " Mad ! " 
 
 " I use the colloquial term. Insane, 
 if you prefer the word /call him mad." 
 
 Colonel Brand seemed utterly as 
 tounded. * 
 
 " And what proof have you to allege 
 in support of this very astounding this 
 most absurd statement, sir ? " 
 
 " None but the fact I say he is mad ; 
 and, if you doubt it now, you will ascer 
 tain the fact hereafter. Do not question 
 me further! I have already said more 
 than becomes the physician who has at 
 tended a patient. The physician and the 
 priest are bound to silence. Act as seems 
 
 best to you for myself, I wish you good- 
 day, sir ! " 
 
 And Dr. Vandyke abruptly left the 
 room he had already taken leave of 
 everybody and hastened to his coach, 
 which he entered, slamming the door. 
 
 The vehicle rolled down the hill rap 
 idly, and passed through the great : 
 
 "Toward Williamsburg, sir?" 
 the driver, drilled to ask those directions 
 which Dr. Vandyke never gave. 
 
 "No! " exclaimed the physician, al 
 most furiously " to the mountain ! " 
 
 And he pointed westward. 
 
 The obedient Jehu, without a word, 
 turned his leaders to the right, and fol 
 lowed the road which Phil Gary had 
 pursued in his ride to Innis s dwelling. 
 No snow had fallen since the youth s 
 ride, and, save where the wind had ob 
 literated the tracks, the footprints of his 
 horse were still visible. But Dr. Van 
 dyke seemed perfectly familiar with the 
 route. 
 
 The coach ascended the mountain- 
 road, drawn rapidly by four powerful 
 horses, which plunged through the deep 
 snow, snorting and smoking. 
 
 " A cheerful landscape ! " muttered 
 Dr. Vandyke, blowing his fingers to keep 
 them warm. " To live in this elevated 
 wilderness, and have your sweetheart 
 about to marry another ough ! " And 
 the physician knit his brows, and fell 
 back, shouting to his coachman : " Fast 
 er ! there is the house I am going to ! " 
 
 The small lodge of Innis was indeed 
 visible beneath the great pines ; and in 
 fifteen minutes more the coach had 
 stopped before it. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke got out, and waded 
 through the snow, and knocked. 
 
 The door opened as he touched it. 
 Innis was seen standing on the thresh 
 old. 
 
 " Welcome, doctor ! " he said ; " I saw 
 you coming up the mountain, and was 
 awaiting you." 
 
 " It is well," returned Dr. Vandyke, 
 
100 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 looking at the young man from under his 
 bushy brows. " I had sworn to break 
 down this door, if kicking would break 
 it down ! " 
 
 And he entered. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 THE LETTEE. 
 
 COLONEL BRAND had closed the door 
 of the library behind Dr. Vandyke, re 
 seated himself with evident marks of 
 agitation in his great arm-chair, and was 
 sunk in troubled thought, when a timid 
 knock was heard. He said, harshly, 
 u Come in ! " and Lady Brand entered. 
 
 She was pale, and trembled slightly, 
 for Colonel Brand had achieved that 
 poor triumph of making all around him 
 afraid of him. His wife was no excep 
 tion she stood in awe of the stiff per 
 sonage ; but now she had evidently 
 made up her mind to brave his ire. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke leaves us in displeas 
 ure, I fear," she said, approaching and 
 seating herself. " Is it not in consequence 
 of a conversation in reference to Hono 
 ria?" 
 
 " Yes, madam ! " snapped Colonel 
 Brand, losing all his Jiauteur. 
 
 "Oh, tell me! Did he not urge you 
 to break off our poor child s marriage 
 with Lord Ruthven ? " 
 
 " Yes, madam! " 
 
 " Upon the ground that that she 
 loved Edmund Innis, and shrunk from 
 Lord Ruthven ? " 
 
 " Yes, madam ! " 
 
 These three "Yes, madams! " were 
 uttered with increasing vehemence. 
 
 Colonel Brand had grown fiery, and 
 looked dangerous. 
 
 "Then oh! then! tis your own 
 poor child, remember 1 " 
 
 " Stop, madam !" exclaimed Colonel 
 Brand; "this interview which you are 
 good enough to inflict upon me at a very 
 inopportune moment I say a very in 
 
 opportune moment, madam ! has pro 
 ceeded sufficiently far! It is unneces 
 sary to continue it, and, to speak plainly, 
 I desire you to be silent ! I am the master 
 in this house, for the present at least, 
 and I will not have my will disputed in 
 consequence of the underhand schemes 
 t^ie meddling interference of this Dr. 
 Vandyke this dwarf, who had the in 
 solence yes, the insolence, madam ! 
 to inform me that that lie had been, 
 forsooth, once upon a time, your suitor 
 that is to say, my rival ! " 
 
 The poor lady s head sank, and her 
 frame trembled. 
 
 " There was no wrong done," she 
 murmured, a slight color appearing in 
 the thin cheek. "I was a girl, and Dr. 
 Vandyke was a young gentleman highly 
 respected." 
 
 " We will cease to discuss your for 
 mer affairs of the heart, if it please you, 
 madam ! " 
 
 " Willingly," said Lady Brand, s,adly. 
 "I designed no allusion whatever to 
 them. But it is my duty, and I must per 
 form it, however it may excite your dis 
 pleasure it is my duty as a mother, to 
 say that I think Honoria is wasting 
 away, will die, if 
 
 The faltering voice here quite broke 
 down. 
 
 " Oh, do not insist on this mar 
 riage ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 Colonel Brand was not as completely 
 master of himself as he fancied. The 
 trembling voice shook his stern coldness. 
 Wheeling round and facing the lady, he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 "You would, then, have me break 
 my plighted word ! " 
 
 " You did not know of this terrible 
 result when you gave your word." 
 
 " This is sophistry, madam ! the jug 
 glery of reasoning, which smooths over a 
 breach of faith, because to keep it is not 
 agreeable or desirable ! No, madam ! I 
 have sworn that Honoria shall marry Lord 
 Ruthven, and I will keep rny oath ! " 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE PROPOSES MAKING A NIGHT OF IT. 
 
 Lady Brand bowed her head, and 
 fixed her eyes, red with weeping, upon 
 the carpet. 
 
 " So be it," she said, in a low voice ; 
 "but if Honoria dies, I shall die too." 
 
 Colonel Brand s features contracted, 
 but he only replied : 
 " I must keep faith." 
 Lady Brand raised her head and 
 looked at him. 
 
 " Even if he Lord Euthven exhib 
 its a desire to retire from the affair ? " 
 
 " Lord Ruthven retire ! Lord Ruth- 
 ven exhibit a desire to " Your mean 
 ing, madam?" 
 
 " I mean that Lord Ruthven treats 
 our daughter and ourselves with scant 
 courtesy." 
 
 " You would say " 
 " That a month, wellnigh, has passed 
 since we have heard from him, and he 
 has not visited Rivanna at all. 
 
 Colonel Brand turned pale. He had 
 required no notice of the fact, but had 
 avoided all allusion to it. 
 
 " Something has prevented him the 
 mails are irregular," he said, knitting 
 his brows. 
 
 " Other letters from the capital arrive 
 promptly." 
 
 Colonel Brand was silent. He had 
 not been prepared for this direct discus 
 sion of a circumstance which had secret 
 ly stung him, and had no reply ready. 
 
 "I thank Heaven," said Lady Brand, 
 " that Lord Ruthven has not visited us, 
 and am even pleased at his not having 
 written. O Colonel Brand ! Honoria s 
 apathy is fearful worse a thousand 
 times than agitation than despair ! " 
 The father groaned. 
 " And all comes from this infatuation 
 for a boy a curly pate this Edmund 
 Innis ! " 
 
 " Twas natural ! he is a generous 
 and noble boy." 
 
 " You would say that he is generous 
 to us! But you know well my resolu 
 tion, madam ! I say this noble boy 
 
 has produced our household misery, and, 
 by Heaven ! Honoria shall marry Ruth 
 ven if only "to teach him a lesson! 
 Speak no further of this, madam ! I 
 have sworn, and will keep my oath! 
 Honoria is promised to Lord Ruthven, 
 and he shall have her, if I am alive to 
 give her away ! This apathy you speak 
 of is the folly of a child ! Once Lady 
 Ruthven a countess, madam ! she will 
 forget all else. Now, no more of this. I 
 am resolved ! " 
 
 Lady Brand rose and placed her 
 handkerchief to her eyes. 
 
 As she did so, a servant entered and 
 handed respectfully to his master the 
 bag containing the mail. The first letter 
 he drew forth was one from Lord Ruth 
 ven, which he opened and hastily pe 
 rused. 
 
 "As I supposed, madam, 1 he said, 
 "Lord Ruthven has been ill is so still. 
 But he expresses an earnest hope that 
 his recovery will be sufficiently safe to 
 enable him to claim Honoria s hand upon 
 the day appointed for the ceremony. 
 See the letter." 
 
 But Lady Brand made a movement 
 with her thin hand. 
 
 "I do not desire to read it," she said, 
 and I must return to Honoria." 
 
 She left the room as she spoke, utter 
 ing a low sob as she disappeared. 
 
 The sob was echoed by a groan from 
 the proud gentleman, who sank back- in 
 iis chair bent, shrunken, and looking 
 ten years older than an hour before. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 IN WHICH DR. VANDYKE PROPOSES TO 
 MAKE A NIGHT OF IT. 
 
 DR. VANDYKE walked into the small 
 itting-room of Innis s mountain lodge, 
 with the air of a gentleman \vh<> t -<.-ls 
 perfectly at home ; and posting himself 
 with his back to the tire, his slender legs 
 wide apart, and his voluminous skirts 
 
102 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 gathered under Ms arms, looked around 
 with interest and some curiosity. 
 
 The room was small and low-pitched, 
 but with an ample fireplace, in which a 
 fire of heavy logs was quietly burning, 
 the mass supported on old-fashioned 
 brass andirons, with grotesquely-carved 
 heads, resembling the ancient masks. 
 The carpet had once been superb, with 
 bouquets of flowers in their natural col 
 ors, but was now quite faded, and, where 
 the legs of the small square table in the 
 centre of the room rested upon it, was 
 worn with holes which showed the floor 
 beneath. The furniture of the room 
 was very old, but had evidently belonged 
 to persons of taste and elegance. It 
 consisted of a large carved sofa of some 
 dark wood covered with rich cloth, and 
 an old sideboard with worn silver, some 
 chairs with elaborately - ornamented 
 backs and dark cushions, two large arm 
 chairs on each side of -the fireplace, a 
 venerable harpsichord, and a tall clock 
 in one corner, reaching from the floor to 
 the ceiling, with a great white face, black 
 hands, and colored representations of the 
 sun, moon, and stars, above the face. On 
 the walls, yellow with age, were a num 
 ber of engravings representing the battle 
 of Blenheim, and other scenes in the 
 wars of Marlborough, wherein the 
 roughly - engraved figures of wooden- 
 looking human beings lay about, and 
 automata-like horses pranced in the cav 
 alry-charge ; and on each side of the 
 mantel-piece, which was very tall and 
 supported a few books, was a comic en 
 graving by Hogarth, the one represent 
 ing a cock-fight, and the other the idle 
 apprentice playing upon a tombstone. 
 There were but two portraits in the room 
 those of Innis s father and mother. 
 These faced each other on the eastern 
 and western walls, and represented, the 
 first a gentleman of distinguished bearing, 
 his smiling face half covered by a flowing 
 peruke ; the other a lady of great beauty 
 and very high-spirited appearance the 
 
 frames of dark oak, the canvas dingy. 
 In one corner, a fowling-piece leaned, 
 supporting a bird-bag of netted twine; 
 and near this a small bookcase stood 
 against the wall, half filled with odd 
 volumes in brown leather, of histories, 
 poems, romances, and treatises on Eng 
 lish law. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke took in these details of 
 the apartment with a comprehensive 
 glance ; drew a huge watch from his 
 fob, and consulted it, glancing as he did 
 so through the window at the sun, which 
 was already declining; and, abruptly 
 turning to Innis, said : 
 
 u I have come to dine with you, and 
 perhaps to spend the night." 
 
 " Thanks, doctor," said Innis, who 
 was pale, and spoke in a dull, apathetic 
 voice. " I am fortunate enough to be 
 able to entertain you, and to provide for 
 your horses too. My old servant will 
 see that the horses and driver want 
 nothing." 
 
 The young man went as he spoke in 
 to an adjoining room, through the door 
 of which Dr. Vandyke saw a neat Led ; 
 and, coming back in a few moments, said : 
 
 "All will be attended to, doctor 
 there is old Ned showing the way to the 
 stables ; and now, welcome again to my 
 poor home. I had not expected to see 
 you in so remote a spot." 
 
 " That s natural, and I am not quite 
 sure of my own identity ; but I believe 
 the individual who has the honor to ad 
 dress you is Dr. Julius Vandyke." 
 
 " You were at Bivanna, no doubt, 
 and took the fancy " 
 
 " Stop all that roundabout talk, my 
 young friend," said the doctor, abruptly ; 
 "let us throw ceremony to the dogs, and 
 come to business. You are breaking 
 your heart about Ilonoria Brand come, 
 deny it, if you can ! " 
 
 An expression of great wretchedness 
 came to the young man s face. 
 
 " Who am I, to presume to look up to 
 Miss Brand ? " he said, bitterly. 
 
DOCTOR VANDYKE PROPOSES MAKING A NIGHT OF IT 
 
 103 
 
 " You are a man and a gentleman, 
 too, if there is any difference! I say 
 you are making yourself unhappy about 
 a girl, and I have come here to have a 
 little talk with you on that subject." 
 
 Innis shook his head gloomily. 
 
 "What good will come of it?" he 
 said. "Let the ashes cover it you 
 know the warning of the Latin poet: 
 4 Do not disturb the ashes that conceal 
 the hidden fire. " 
 
 "I know a little Latin, but I choose 
 to think and resolve for myself. I mean 
 to talk about this affair to talk to my 
 heart s content ! But I p ropose to dine 
 first, as I perceive the odor of that meal, 
 and welcome it." 
 
 The door opened as Dr. Vandyke 
 spoke, and an old family servant with 
 gray hair, and a profoundly deferential 
 bearing, made his appearance, and pro 
 ceeded to set the table. He then disap 
 peared, but soon served dinner, which 
 was plain but appetizing. As the host 
 and his guest sat down, a knock was 
 heard at the outer door; the doctor s 
 driver appeared with a leather-covered 
 case, and this case the doctor at once 
 opened, producing a brace of heavy, 
 square bottles, through whose transpar 
 ent sides a ruby-colored liquid was seen 
 to agitate itself, as the bottles were de 
 posited on the table. 
 
 " Always travel with my liquor-case," 
 said the doctor. " Rum and superb ! " 
 
 He pushed the square bottle to Innis, 
 who poured out some, but scarcely 
 touched the glass with his lips. 
 
 " Come! drink eat ! " cried Dr. Van 
 dyke, with his mouth full of ham. 
 
 " I have no appetite to-day, doctor," 
 was the reply. 
 
 " And had none yesterday, I d be 
 willing to swear. Such is the effect of 
 this abominable love-business." 
 
 The doctor continued to growl 
 throughout the repast, in which Innis 
 rather affected to join than took any 
 real part ; and in due time the cloth was 
 
 removed, and host and guest drew their 
 chairs to the fire. 
 
 " This is comfortable," said Dr. Van 
 dyke, leaning forward and rubbing his 
 knees, with a glance through the win 
 dow at the sun, about to disappear be 
 hind the mountain. " Snow a foot deep 
 without, but a good fire within of hick 
 ory-logs that warms one through and 
 through ! Hear the wind, how it howls ! 
 Faith! I ll brew a bowl of punch to 
 crown the victory over Boreas, and we ll 
 make a night of it ! " 
 
 As he spoke, the doctor rose and 
 pounced upon a great bowl of porcelain 
 on the sideboard ; at the same moment 
 the old major-domo appeared with a 
 japanned waiter containing a silver cof 
 fee-pot, and some small cups of exquisite 
 ly thin china, richly colored. 
 
 "Coffee!" cried the doctor; "how 
 now, thou Sybarite! But if coffee then 
 hot water ! Some hot water, my aged 
 friend ; I see before me the sugar ! " 
 
 With profound deference the old ser 
 vant brought in hot water; the doctor 
 proceeded to brew the punch, which he 
 subsequently dealt out with a silver 
 ladle; and, having informed his host that 
 he preferred firelight to candles, the ec 
 centric guest resumed his arm-chair be 
 fore the fire, rubbed his legs with an air 
 of enjoyment, and said : 
 
 "I beg to offer a toast! To our 
 common and highly-esteemed friend the 
 most excellent lady, who once came 
 near espousing the amiable Julius Van 
 dyke!" 
 
 "With these words, the amiable Julius 
 Vandyke raised his ponderous feet, 
 placed them upon the cross-piece of his 
 chair, elevated thus his knees very near 
 ly to the level of his eyes, and, leaning 
 his head back, swallowed his glass of 
 punch at one gulp. Innis had never lost 
 his ap&thetio expression. He now s.-ii<l : 
 
 " The lady you were near espousing 
 once, doctor ? " 
 
 " Lady Brand." 
 
104 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 "Ah! You were once an admirer 
 of my aunt ? " 
 
 " At least I asked her to marry me, 
 in this very room." 
 
 "In this room?" 
 
 "Hold! She was sitting yonder. The 
 sun was setting, and the shadow of the 
 crooked pine-tree there was thrown 
 upon the face of the old clock. It was 
 half-past six in the evening, I remem 
 ber." 
 
 Innis looked at the eccentric being 
 before him, who was now clasping his 
 arms around his drawn-up knees. 
 
 " You surprise me, doctor," he said. 
 " I did know " 
 
 " That this house was familiar to me? 
 Perfectly; and, as we have plenty of 
 time to-night, suppose I tell you a little 
 of what the poets would call the ro 
 mance of my existence ? 
 
 Innis inclined his head ; and, refilling 
 his glass with a bacchanalian air, Dr. 
 Vandyke said : 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 THE KOMANGE OF DK. VANDYKE. 
 
 "I AM, correctly speaking, not Dr. 
 Vandyke, but the Baron Julius von 
 Dyke, a German by birth, and belonging 
 to a family whose representatives held 
 important commands in the armies of 
 the Emperor Charles V. As I am a 
 person, however, of democratical opin 
 ions, I do not value the von in my name 
 a farthing, and will sell you my patent 
 of baron for sixpence. I will not en 
 large upon the former importance of my 
 family, which, in time, grew poorer 
 then poorer then landless. Whereupon 
 the baron, my father, went to London ; 
 was induced to emigrate to Virginia; 
 brought me, his only son, with him ; and 
 died, leaving me at twenty-five possessed 
 of a small, a very small, estate, but, what 
 was better, an education as a physician, 
 the result of study at Gottingen. 
 
 " Well, when my father died, I found 
 myself quite alone, and did not much 
 relish the lonely life of a country physi 
 cian in Charles City, where my small 
 estate lay; so I disposed of the land, re 
 moved to Williamsburg, and announced 
 that I was ready to administer pills and 
 draughts to the inhabitants of that thriv 
 ing capital. 
 
 "My success was not encouraging. 
 The children ran behind their mother s 
 dresses when I made my appearance ; 
 and once or twice it was intimated to me 
 that, in certain cases connected with one 
 branch of the leech s art, my personal 
 appearance was calculated to produce un 
 fortunate results. In fact, my young 
 friend, I was hideously ugly as ugly as I 
 am at this moment, or very nearly and, 
 in consequence thereof, there was noth 
 ing in the world that I admired so much 
 as personal beauty. This became, at last, 
 almost a mania with me, and I would 
 place myself at the window of my poor 
 lodgings on Gloucester Street a small 
 room on the second floor of a small 
 house that which you one day entered 
 with me and, from this elevated perch, 
 I would watch the passers-by on the 
 street, riveting my eyes, with a passion 
 ate, craving admiration on the beautiful 
 forms moving to and fro before me. 
 Not a white, bending neck, seen beneath 
 a blue scarf, not a slender foot with 
 arched instep in its high-heeled shoe, or 
 graceful figure, undulating as it moved 
 on, but filled me with delight and admi 
 ration. And not with that material 
 sentiment which you might imagine 
 all was etherealized for me ; beauty was 
 poetry, and I enjoyed this beauty as a 
 painter enjoys the beauty of a summer 
 day, when white clouds float against a 
 blue sky, over emerald fields and for 
 ests! " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke stopped, to utter a short, 
 grating laugh. 
 
 " Poetical, you see, my young friend. 
 Try the punch! No? Well, to go on 
 
THE ROMANCE OF DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 105 
 
 with my romantic narrative : My great 
 est misfortune was to have inherited a 
 mirror which afforded me a full-length 
 view of my own exquisite proportions. 
 This mirror was fixed against the wall 
 between the windows of my lodging, 
 and I had only to turn my head to see 
 my own image. I did turn my head of 
 ten, and chiefly after following with my 
 eyes some handsome young cavalier on 
 his prancing steed some radiant young 
 Apollo, with gracefully-fashioned figure, 
 slender, erect, and elegant, straight 
 limbs, rounded where they pressed 
 against the saddle, attractive features, 
 chestnut curls some young Adonis, in 
 a word, compared with whom I was a 
 satyr of waste places a monster. For, 
 what did I behold in that fatal mirror ? 
 A being scarcely human. A thing, let 
 us say, about four feet and a half in 
 height, splay-footed, -thin-legged, with 
 enormous chest, the arms of a windmill, 
 a head like a pumpkin, sunken eyes, wide 
 mouth; no neck a fearful, frightful Imus 
 naturae, sent into the world to appall 
 children, and make the dogs bark ha! 
 ha! 
 
 " Well, things went on thus for years, 
 when one day I made the acquaintance 
 of two young ladies on a visit to the 
 capital : one was afterward your moth 
 er, the other your aunt. It was your 
 aunt I fell in love with, and this came 
 about in an accidental manner if there 
 be any accidents in the world. Colonel 
 Seaton, the uncle of the young ladies, 
 was addicted to high living, and, one 
 day, on returning from a grand dinner, 
 he was taken with an indigestion, which 
 was near putting an end to him. The 
 most prominent physician in the capital 
 was sent for in great haste, but was 
 absent. The consequence was, that I 
 was called in to attend Colonel Seaton, 
 and succeeded in relieving him so expe- 
 ditiously that he conceived a high opinion ! 
 of my abilities, and invited me to visit | 
 at his house as a friend. This offer I ! 
 
 gladly accepted ; and, as Colonel Seaton 
 had known -my father, the baron, I soon 
 became a familiar friend of the family, 
 and fell in love with your aunt, Lady 
 Brand." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke stopped suddenly, and " 
 plunging his hand into the capacious 
 pocket of his great-coat, which he per 
 sisted in keeping on, drew forth a huge 
 pipe and a handful of tobacco. 
 
 " It is an extraordinary evidence of 
 absent-mindedness in me to have forgot 
 ten my pipe," he said. "Is the world 
 coming to an end ? Come, sweetest sol 
 ace, come ! " 
 
 And, grinning amiably, the doctor 
 filled the great bowl, picked up a coal 
 with the tongs, lit his pipe, and began 
 to puff out clouds of snowy smoke. 
 
 " You won t smoke ? No ? Well, to 
 continue my interesting narrative : Where 
 did I stop ? Oh, at the commencement 
 of my charming little romance what 
 I call, elegantly, the romance of Dr. 
 Vandyke my love - affair with the 
 young beauty from the mountains from 
 Kivanna, in a word." 
 
 And the doctor darted a keen glance 
 at Innis, who remained cold and apa 
 thetic. 
 
 " Twas an absolute passion I con 
 ceived for the young lady," said the doc 
 tor, smoking away in the most noncha 
 lant manner, " and, after all, my young 
 friend, there is nothing so strong as what 
 is called love. Nothing hurts, for a short 
 time, like disappointment therein ! I 
 will not enlarge upon the charming de 
 tails of my affair, but will state what 
 may appear to you, since it so appears to 
 me, an astounding circumstance the 
 fact that the lady of my affections was 
 not wholly unkind nor cold to her ad 
 mirer, the present narrator. Ellen you 
 call her Aunt Ellen now, but slit- was 
 then a blooming beauty, too youthful 
 for auntship was touched, it seems, by 
 the devotion of the poor physician who 
 evidently adored her. She blushed when 
 
106 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 Splay-foot entered : actually faltered in 
 her address when she spoke to Blear- 
 eyes : and, one day, the presumptuous 
 Wide-mouth said, I love you ! at 
 which she no more shrunk than she 
 would have shrunk from an Adonis ! 
 Can you believe that ? I remember with 
 out believing it ! And at that moment I 
 tasted the first moment of real happiness 
 I had tasted in the world ! Then the 
 poor, deformed dwarf was a human be 
 ing after all ! the monster was not so 
 hideous and repulsive as he had dreamed ! 
 after all, he was a man, belonged to 
 mankind, was not an ape, a wild-man of 
 the woods, an object of disgust or hor 
 ror. When I took her hand in my own 
 she did not shudder or grow sick ! then 
 she had seen that behind this mask was 
 a heart and a brain felt that the brain 
 thought, and the heart throbbed; and her 
 own heart melted was nearly my own, 
 I think ! " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke terminated this sentence 
 with a grin, and, smoking with great 
 gusto, said: 
 
 " I am growing a little tired of this 
 part of my subject, but nothing is so se 
 ductive as this analytical exposition of 
 human nature under peculiar phases. 
 You see, my dear friend, I am proceed 
 ing exactly as I proceed when a subject 
 a dead body, that is is lying on a ta 
 ble before me, and I have the scalpel in 
 my hand. I dissect a heart as I dissect a 
 body. Well, what is the lesson that is 
 sought to be demonstrated in the present 
 lecture, my youthful friends friend, that 
 is? Why, that a deformed dwarf has 
 actually a heart, feelings, passions, and 
 that a woman can understand as much, 
 and see the man through the hideous 
 mask! To proceed. The romance is 
 nearly ended. An interruption took 
 place on that eventful morning, and the 
 ladies left Williamsburg almost immedi 
 ately. I did not see them again for some 
 years. Then your mother had married 
 your father they came to this house to 
 
 live and, visiting Williamsburg once, 
 Mrs. Innis invited me to come and see 
 them, as an old friend, in their mountain- 
 home. I did so, for my old romance re 
 mained untouched and here I found 
 your aunt. Shall I continue ? I offered 
 her my hand in this apartment. She 
 did not reply either Yes or J^o ; I was 
 forced to return to the capital and a 
 year afterward she was Lady Brand. 
 All that came about in the most natural 
 way. Colonel Seaton brought the young 
 lady to Williamsburg She there met 
 Colonel Brand. Her uncle, her friends, 
 everybody, said, Marry him, and she 
 finally did so, caring for him, as I hap 
 pen to know, not a fig ! I saw that at a 
 glance ; and what did I do, my friend ? 
 I said to her: If you should ever re 
 quire the aid of a true friend, send for 
 me, and I will come to you, either by 
 day or by night ; and then I went back 
 to my duties, and forgot all about my 
 romance, and don t care a farthing now 
 for her beyond mere friendship, nor re 
 gret that she married my rival ! 
 
 " There s your pretty little romance, 
 my boy ! " said the doctor, laughing ; 
 " love, nay, passion ! disappointment, 
 anguish, indifference, oblivion! That s 
 the course of things in this curious world. 
 You break your heart about a woman 
 to-day, and in half a year you have for 
 gotten her! Every thing changes, my 
 son nothing remains the same ! Do you 
 think that time, that wears away the very 
 Pyramids, don t wear away human grief? 
 The grief is the easier of the two, I as 
 sure you! Eternal despair! nonsense! 
 A year is not an eternity ! Come ! let 
 us cease this philosophic strain ! Drink 
 me this glass of punch tis imperial! 
 Vive la joie ! and let dull care begone ! " 
 
 The doctor imbibed a huge mouthful 
 of punch ; refilled his glass ; mounted 
 with great agility into his chair, from 
 which he stepped to the table, and, rais 
 ing his arm until it nearly touched the 
 ceiling, cried: 
 
HALLUCINATION. 
 
 107 
 
 " A health to Oblivion the last, best 
 friend of humanity ! " 
 
 At an hour past midnight, Dr. Van 
 dyke was shown to bed by his host ; and 
 anybody who had looked at him would 
 have seen upon his countenance an ex 
 pression of unmistakable disappointment. 
 
 In reply to his narrative, Innis had 
 only said, with the same dull, apathetic 
 look: 
 
 " I said when you came, doctor, that 
 I regarded you as one of my best friends 
 \vjell, your history has more than ever 
 convinced me of the fact. You relate 
 your own disappointment, to impress 
 upon me the moral that grief wears 
 away, and indifference comes. So be it. 
 I trust twill come ! But I shall none the 
 less leave this house and Virginia, in two 
 days from this time, never to return. 
 My house is sold, my valise is already 
 packed it is my great good fortune, as 
 I turn my back forever on Virginia, to 
 have heard your friendly voice, doctor. 
 Good-night ! " 
 
 On the next morning, Dr. Vandyke 
 returned to Williamsburg. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 HALLUCINATION. 
 
 A WEEK after these events, Lord 
 Euthven was seated in an arm-chair, in 
 his lodgings at Williamsburg, wrapped 
 in his dressing-gown of figured silk. In 
 a chair opposite sat Dr. Vandyke, whose 
 eyes were fixed upon his patient. 
 
 Euthven was fearfully thin and pale. 
 His frame seemed to have dwindled 
 away; and his eyes had that dreamy, 
 wandering expression which indicates 
 the want of physical energy under the 
 hand of disease. 
 
 " So you think I shall recover now, 
 doctor ? " he said, in a low voice. 
 
 " Unless you have a relapse, which, 
 
 to be frank with you, is apt to prove 
 fatal," was the reply. 
 
 Euthven inclined his head. 
 
 "I like frankness, doctor. I have 
 had a dangerous attack, have I not? " 
 
 " Very dangerous. 1 
 
 "You have not yet given me your 
 opinion of my case I should say, have 
 not explained its nature, and I should be 
 glad to know now the character of the 
 disease which has just assailed me." 
 
 "Do you wish the scientific or the 
 familiar definition; that is to say, jargon 
 or intelligible statement ? " 
 
 " The familiar definition, doctor. 
 What has been the cause of my illness ? " 
 
 " Nervous prostration." 
 
 Euthven nodded. 
 
 " Your view coincides with my own. 
 And to what was this prostration of the 
 nervous system due; to physical or to 
 mental causes ? " 
 
 "Do you wish a plain statement of 
 your case? I hate beating round the 
 bush," said Dr. Vandyke, in his vibrating 
 and metallic voice. 
 
 " A plain statement, by all means, 
 sir." 
 
 "Listen, then, my Lord Euthven. 
 Men of your organization and habits 
 never undergo nervous prostration from 
 physical causes. Drunkards, roues,- and 
 others, have attacks of that description. 
 You are neither a drunkard nor a roue; 
 thus the cause of disease is to be sought 
 elsewhere ; and I" may as well inform 
 you that I have not had long to seek. 
 You have been ill, very ill, in conse 
 quence of mental excitement, which, re 
 acting, as every thing does, on the body, 
 has brought the physical system in sym 
 pathy with the mental condition that 
 is, made you ill. Beyond this, I see no 
 necessity to go." 
 
 "And yet you have gone further? " 
 
 The eyes of the two men met. 
 
 "Yes," said Dr. Vandyke, coolly. 
 
 " You have discovered the source of 
 my mental excitement." 
 
108 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "You wish me to speak plainly ? " 
 
 Yes yes." 
 
 "Well, I employ the scientific term 
 now. You have been the victim of hal 
 lucination" 
 
 " The plainer term for which is ? " 
 
 Ruthven looked with sudden inten 
 sity at the physician. 
 
 " Second sight," said Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 Ruthven uttered a low groan, and 
 closed his eyes as though he were about 
 to faint. 
 
 " Your meaning? " he murmured. 
 
 " I mean nothing a mere jest," said 
 Dr. Vandyke ; " here, a few drops of this 
 cordial ? " 
 
 "No, doctor," said Ruthven, sitting 
 erect in his chair, and speaking in a firm 
 voice. "I do not need it, and am strong 
 er, I think, than you suppose. You 
 would turn the conversation, I see, but 
 do not fear the topic does not agitate 
 me." 
 
 He remained lost in thought for some 
 moments ; then he said: 
 
 "I was not aware that you had 
 turned your attention to a subject which 
 few thinkers regard as worthy of their 
 serious attention. Then you believe in 
 the superstition, as the world calls it, of 
 second sight ? " 
 
 He uttered the last words only after 
 a moment s hesitation, and with evident 
 repugnance. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke looked fixedly at him, 
 and said : 
 
 " Believe in is a phrase which means 
 mnch or little. If you tell me that you 
 have scon a ghost and felt the breath of 
 the grave issue from the phantom, I be 
 lieve in the ghost as far as it concerns 
 yourself." 
 
 "Well, well," was Ruthven s impa 
 tient exclamation, " but that is no reply. 
 I ask if you "believe that " 
 
 " Human beings in the island of Skye 
 and in parts of Scotland fall into trances, 
 
 and see the future ? Yes I believe that 
 they believe it." 
 
 " Then you do not believe it ? " Lord 
 Ruthven murmured. 
 
 " I believe in science, and science de 
 fines hallucination as plainly as it de 
 fines any other, the most rational opera 
 tion of the human brain." 
 
 " We drop logic and fence with 
 words, sir," said Ruthven, impatiently. 
 " You plainly have no faith in this 
 second sight," again he paused before 
 the words ; " but suppose I were to tell 
 you that I know persons in my own 
 family who possess the fearful gift? " 
 
 "Yourself, that is to say," said Dr. 
 Vandyke. " I know very well that 
 second sight is hereditary, or people 
 think so, ut ante otherwise I should 
 not have said, Your nervous prostra 
 tion is due to this cause. Am I 
 wrong ? " 
 
 " You have divined rightly." 
 
 The words were uttered in an almost 
 sepulchral whisper. 
 
 "Yes," continued Lord Ruthven, 
 gloomily, "my family has for two hun 
 dred years been the victim of this fright 
 ful faculty. They have seen, in vision, 
 the events that are to come the faces, 
 the figures, the scenes, have all passed 
 before them. And the scenes of my fu 
 ture have passed before me ! " 
 
 " My lord ! " said Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 " You will have the goodness, if you 
 please, to stop this sort of talk. I con 
 sented to discuss with you this scientific 
 question, but had no design to bring on 
 a second attack of nervous illness. In 
 an evil moment I uttered the words, 
 hallucination and second sight. 1 I 
 am sorry I did so, and it was a waste of 
 time, too, for I now inform yon frankly 
 that your second-sight business is all 
 flummery moonshine." 
 
 " You think so? " came in a low voice 
 from Ruthven s pale lips. "Well, so be 
 it, sir." 
 
WHAT OCCURRED AT THE WEDDIXG-DIXXER. 
 
 109 
 
 "I know it! All froth and devil s 
 deception! Let the thought alone! It 
 will madden you! Buy a fiddle, and 
 drink rum, and go and dance a dozen 
 reels there s your philosophic proceed 
 ing and let these chimeras rest in con 
 genial darkness." 
 
 Lord Ruthven bowed with calm cour 
 tesy, and said, coolly : 
 
 "I thank you for your advice, doctor, 
 and acknowledge that it is sound. And 
 now let us have done with this rather 
 melancholy subject, which I had no de 
 sign to discuss, and was betrayed into, 
 before becoming aware of the fact. 
 "What is my condition when shall I 
 recover? " 
 
 "Speedily, if you have no relapse." 
 
 " I shall be able to travel, say in 
 my coach in a week ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "In two weeks?" 
 
 "Possibly." 
 
 "Thanks, sir. That will serve my 
 purpose." 
 
 "If you take my advice," growled 
 Dr. Vandyke, "you will put off this 
 travelling for a month." 
 
 "That is impracticable, doctor, for 
 reasons it is needless to detail." 
 
 "Right I know them. You are 
 going to Rivanna to marry Honoria 
 Brand." 
 
 "Yes, doctor I see that you are ac 
 quainted with my private affairs." 
 
 " Perfectly ; and, perhaps, I know 
 some circumstances unknown to your 
 self." 
 
 " Unknown ? " 
 
 "Do you know that Honoria Brand 
 loves her cousin, Edmund Innis? " 
 
 A cloud passed across Ruthven s 
 brow, and his eyes grew cold and 
 haughty. 
 
 "I knew at least that Mr. Innis did 
 the future Countess of Ruthven the hon 
 or to bestow his affections upon her." 
 
 "And this mutual attachment for it 
 is mutual is no obstacle in your eyes ? " 
 
 " An obstacle? No! A cause of dis 
 pleasure? Yes! " 
 
 "Why, then" 
 
 "Persist in the offer of my hand, sir? 
 For the very simple reason that marriage 
 is not silly romance. This is better un 
 derstood in Europe than in Virginia, sir! 
 Do you fancy that in Europe young la 
 dies neglect to enjoy their private ro 
 mance? Everywhere they do so; but 
 they form alliances, sir, upon solider 
 foundations ! " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke listened to these words 
 in gloomy silence. 
 
 "Well," he muttered, " tis no affair 
 of mine ; I have done all I could, and 
 this one is like the other at Rivanna." 
 
 Having solaced himself with this 
 growl, Dr. Vandyke rose. 
 
 " If she can t stand up, that will end 
 it! " he added, in the same tone. 
 
 He turned to Lord Ruthven. 
 
 "You are doing well now, and need 
 me no further," he said. "Good-day, 
 sir." 
 
 Before Lord Ruthven could reply he 
 had left the room. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 WHAT OCCUERED AT THE WEDDING- 
 DINNEE. 
 
 THE morning of the day fixed on for 
 Honoria s marriage came at last. All 
 night the snow had been falling the 
 fields, forests, and mountains, were en 
 veloped in a white shroud and now, 
 when the storm had ceased, a freezing 
 wind had succeeded, howling around 
 the gables and in the spectral trees, and 
 driving the light snow before it in blind 
 ing gusts. 
 
 Despite, however, the forbidding na 
 ture of the weather, the wedding-guests 
 began to arrive at an early hour, curious 
 to witness the ceremony of the wedding 
 of a young lady of the quiet country 
 neighborhood with a real nobleman. 
 
110 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 The invitations had been almost univer 
 sal no one with the slightest preten 
 sions to good society having been omit 
 ted; but there had been a species of 
 distinction made by the proud Colonel 
 Brand. While a countless number were 
 invited, as we now say, to "the cere 
 mony," which was to take place at night, 
 invitations to dinner had been confined 
 to a select few of the most prominent 
 personages of the vicinity. These now 
 arrived ; but unfortunately, as the reader 
 will perceive, there mingled with them 
 some others, who, liberally regarding an 
 invitation as an invitation, made their 
 appearance in the forenoon, bent on 
 dinner. 
 
 Colonel Brand received every guest, 
 however, with the formal politeness ha 
 bitual with him ; and general conversation 
 ensued in the great drawing-room, where 
 the motley throng warmed their chilled 
 limbs before the mighty fire of roaring 
 hickory. As yet, the ladies had not 
 made their appearance, and the company 
 separated itself into groups instinctively 
 the grand old nabobs, in powdered 
 wigs, silk stockings, and ruffles, convers 
 ing, ore rotundo, with stately dignity, to 
 themselves ; the plainer planters, with 
 waistcoats buttoned to their chins, and 
 hair tied in plain knots behind, mean 
 while exchanging in a coterie, some feet 
 distant, observations on the approaching 
 ceremony. 
 
 As the forenoon passed on, guests 
 continued to gather, and at last a move 
 ment of all heads in the direction of the 
 window indicated the arrival of a per 
 sonage of importance. 
 
 This personage proved to be Lord 
 Euthven. He descended, wrapped in 
 heavy furs, from his chariot, whose four 
 horses were smoking and covered with 
 foam, from the rapidity of the arduous 
 journey through the snow, and entered 
 the mansion, on the threshold of which 
 Colonel Brand was ready to receive him. 
 
 " Welcome to Rivanna, my lord ! " 
 
 | said the colonel, with stately dignity, 
 and bowing low, as, with outstretched 
 hand, he greeted the bridegroom. " I 
 had hoped for your earlier arrival, but 
 the roads are, no doubt, most difficult." 
 
 Lord Ruthven bowed low in turn, ut 
 tered a few words in response to his 
 host s greeting, and was ushered into the 
 drawing-room where the assembled com 
 pany was presented to him, one after 
 another. He replied, in every instance, 
 by a simple bow, and seemed entirely 
 unaware of the fact that he was the cen 
 tre of all eyes. All were struck with 
 his pallor, and the settled gloom of his 
 expression ; and it was afterward remem 
 bered that, as he entered the room, he 
 had looked around him in a most singular 
 manner, growing paler than before. An 
 other unusual circumstance also attracted 
 attention. When, after the general in 
 troduction, some one spoke to him, he 
 would suddenly rouse himself with a 
 start from his species of reverie, gaze 
 with a fearful expression at the speaker, 
 and, even while replying in a few brief 
 and constrained words, would glance 
 over his right shoulder in a very unac 
 countable manner, as though he suspect 
 ed the presence of some danger, against 
 which it was necessary for him to be 
 upon his guard. 
 
 It was impossible that these very un 
 usual circumstances, in connection with 
 Lord Ruthven s appearance and demean 
 or, should not excite surprise, and occa 
 sion subsequent comment, on the part of 
 the guests ; but his lordship was quickly 
 shown to his chamber, whither the silent 
 and attentive Fergus had seen his travel 
 ling-trunks borne, and the door of the 
 drawing-room closed abruptly, erecting 
 an impassable barrier between the pale 
 nobleman and the curious company. 
 
 Nearly two hours then passed, when 
 the door opened, and Lord Ruthven 
 was again ushered in by the stately 
 Colonel Brand. He had changed his 
 travelling-dress, and had donned a dark 
 
WHAT OCCURRED AT THE WEDDING-DINNER. 
 
 Ill 
 
 costume of the richest and most elegant 
 description. It was impossible not to be 
 struck by his air of high breeding and 
 distinction; but, as before, it was the 
 singular face of the young nobleman 
 which riveted all eyes. He was, if pos 
 sible, paler than ever, and entered the 
 room in sepulchral silence a walking 
 shadow. During the few moments which 
 followed his entry he did not utter a 
 word, but stood like a statue amid the 
 crowd of guests, who unconsciously drew 
 back. 
 
 The appearance of the ladies afforded 
 a welcome diversion. Lady Brand, ac 
 companied by her daughters and her 
 lady-guests, entered, and greeted her 
 visitors. But she attracted attention for 
 an instant only. All eyes were fixed 
 upon Ilonoria, who was as pale as Lord 
 Ruthven, and who resembled, in her 
 white dress and with her whiter cheeks, 
 a ghost, rather than a human being. 
 
 Lord Ruthven had advanced quickly 
 and bowed low, with stately courtesy, 
 over the hands which Lady Brand and 
 the young ladies held out. Honoria s 
 was extended toward him in an abrupt 
 and convulsive manner, and he found it 
 as cold as ice. For an instant their eyes 
 met the sunken eyes of the girl wore a 
 strange expression but she preserved 
 her self-possession, seemed unconscious 
 of the scrutiny to which she was subject 
 ed, and seemed to regard with apathetic 
 indifference the whole scene around 
 her. 
 
 Everybody felt relieved when the 
 door opened, and the old, gray-haired 
 major-domo, Robin, with a silver waiter 
 under his arm, looked respectfully tow 
 ard Colonel Brand, thus announcing that 
 dinner was served. 
 
 Lord Ruthven offered his arm to Lady 
 Brand, who stood near him ; the com 
 pany entered the great dining-room, 
 blazing with lights in silver candelabra 
 for night was near and took their 
 seats at the broad board whose rich blue 
 
 china and old plate sparkled in the flood 
 of light. 
 
 The grand dinner went on its way in 
 a stiff and stately manner, little relieved 
 by conversation. Honoria sustained the 
 glances of all without change in her apa 
 thetic expression, and sent away course 
 after course nearly untasted. The only 
 indication of her feelings was her fright 
 ful pallor ; and this became at times so 
 unnatural that Lady Brand was, more 
 than once, upon the point of rising, and 
 leading her from the room, under the 
 apprehension that she was about to faint. 
 Nothing, for some time, however, oc 
 curred to mar the festivity if such it 
 could be called. On the contrary, the 
 stiffness of the scene gradually gave way 
 before the rich wines ; the awe felt for 
 the ceremonious Colonel Brand, by a 
 portion of the company, melted, and 
 the dinner promised to terminate more 
 cheerfully and cordially than it had com 
 menced. 
 
 But the fates were adverse. The 
 heady wines had done their work. Cer 
 emony was lost sight of by some of the 
 honest old fellows who had construed 
 their general invitation to the wedding, 
 into an invitation to the wedding and 
 dinner ; and two of these old neighbors 
 now began to discuss the approaching 
 ceremony. 
 
 The conversation of these worthy 
 country gentlemen, now warmed by the 
 colonel s canary, was not precise or for 
 mal, as will be seen ; and a portion of it 
 will account for what followed. 
 
 " Strange enough," said one of them 
 to his old neighbor. "And beats the 
 story-books all hollow, eh ? " 
 
 " All hollow," replied his friend. 
 
 "It was honorable in our friend 
 Brand, though, to record it in the court 
 of probate," continued the first speaker. 
 "If what they say is true, younir Innis 
 tore up the will, and swore he wouldn t 
 take the property." 
 
 "Did he do that?" 
 
112 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 "I m told so, and it s like his father s 
 son ; his father was as honest a gentle 
 man as ever hunted a fox." 
 
 " A gentleman before he was born ! 
 So Ned Innis tore up the will ? " 
 
 " Yes, neighbor, and they say it was 
 all on account of the boy s love for little 
 Miss Honoria ; and if so, I say it s a thou 
 sand pities Tie can t get her instead of 
 this my lord, who looks like a block of 
 ice, with a handful of snow for a face ! " 
 
 "Ha! ha! That s good, neighbor! 
 A block of ice, ha ! ha ! A good thing ! 
 Yes, it s a thousand pities ! " 
 
 " And I m told hold your ear close, 
 neighbor." 
 
 " Yes" 
 
 And the other drew nearer. 
 
 "I m told the little lady loves him 
 better a thousand times better than 
 her fine lord and master to be." 
 
 "Loves Ned Innis?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " That s a pity a sad pity, neighbor. 
 Loves the boy, did you say ? " 
 
 "Better than she loves herself. I 
 drink your health, neighbor." 
 
 " Your good health ! So this match 
 is hard on her." 
 
 " Look at her ; you can see that it is 
 killing her! " 
 
 "So it is hum! hum!" 
 
 " Such cheeks ! "Was any thing ever 
 as white ? " 
 
 " As white as a sheet." 
 
 "Look ! I think she s going to faint. 
 There is Lady Brand getting up to take 
 her out of the room ! " 
 
 " Yes no ! She is down again. A 
 sad business, neighbor a sad business." 
 
 And, overcome by grief, the worthy 
 gentleman poured out a large glass of 
 canary, passing the decanter to his neigh 
 bor, who imitated him. In the half an 
 hour which followed, this ceremony was 
 repeated several times, and the worthies 
 began to talk thick. 
 
 " And this will you told me of 
 where did they find it ? " 
 
 "In a desk where Colonel Seaton 
 kept his private papers." 
 
 " You are wrong there, sir," sudden 
 ly exclaimed a red-faced worthy next to 
 the speaker. He had evidently partaken 
 in large quantities of the canary, and 
 spoke fiercely. " You are wrong ! The 
 will was found in a chest of drawers 
 not a desk." 
 
 " You are wrong, sir ! Twas a 
 desk ! " was the retort of the first 
 speaker. 
 
 "I am not wrong, sir!" exclaimed 
 the other, with drunken severity, "and I 
 am not in the habit of stating what I 
 don t know do you hear, sir ? If you 
 doubt my word, sir, I ll soon show you 
 whether I m talking sense ! " 
 
 And, raising his voice to a pitch 
 which drowned the conversation of the 
 rest of the company, the red-faced speak 
 er called out : 
 
 " Colonel Brand ! " 
 
 The words rang out clearly, and in 
 stantly attracted everybody s eyes tow 
 ard him who uttered them. The colonel, 
 who was at the moment uttering a cere 
 monious compliment to a dowager seated 
 on his left, suddenly turned his head, 
 and frowned slightly. 
 
 "Colonel Brand! I say, Colonel 
 Brand ! " came again from the impatient 
 worthy. 
 
 "Did you address me, sir? " said the 
 host, with crushing dignity. 
 
 "Yes, sir! I did. My word has 
 been doubted, and I call on you to say 
 if I know what I m talking about or 
 not!" 
 
 Colonel Brand scowled at the rude 
 ness of the speaker. 
 
 " Being ignorant of the subject of 
 your conversation, sir," he said, "I am 
 naturally unable to afford you the infor 
 mation which you are good enough to 
 demand so loudly of me, sir ! " 
 
 But the colonel s interlocutor was 
 beyond the point where hauteur makes 
 any impression. The worthy only com- 
 
WHAT OCCURRED AT THE v\ r EDDING-DINXER. 
 
 113 
 
 prehended that Colonel Brand meant to 
 ask information, and cried : 
 
 "I said that old Colonel Seaton s 
 will his last will in favor of oung In- 
 nis s m other was found in a chest of 
 drawers, and not in a desk. This state 
 ment," added the worthy with drunken 
 dignity, "has been doubted ! and I call 
 on you to say if I know what I m talk 
 ing about! " 
 
 Colonel Brand felt the blood rush to 
 his face, and an angry shot from his 
 eyes. He controlled his rising wrath, 
 however, and replied with intense hau 
 teur: 
 
 " I should prefer not discussing my 
 private affairs at the dinner-table, sir ! " 
 
 " Well, that s just as you choose ! " 
 was the reply of the red-faced guest, 
 whose wrath rose to meet that of his 
 host. u You can talk or not talk, just as 
 you like, but I say that the will was 
 found in a chest of drawers ; and, more 
 over, that young Innis was a fool to tear 
 it up, and let you have his property 1 " 
 
 "Sir!" gasped the colonel, flushing 
 crimson and glaring at the speaker, " are 
 you aware that you are in a gentleman s 
 house ! at my table ! in the presence 
 of ladies!" 
 
 " I know where I am ! " growled the 
 worthy, " and that " 
 
 " This is a vulgar intrusion, sir ! I 
 I!" 
 
 The colonel gasped for breath; but 
 his ire flew off harmless from the canary- 
 heated guest. 
 
 " Vulgar, am I ? an intruder, am I ? " 
 exclaimed that worthy ; " and only be 
 cause I say what everybody is saying ! 
 I m not to be frowned down, Colonel 
 Brand, if you are marrying your daugh 
 ter to a lord, who s no better, in my 
 opinion, than any other man ! " 
 
 " Will you have the goodness ! " 
 
 Colonel Brand began thus, and we 
 are sorry to say, ended with a violent 
 oath, which produced no effect, however, 
 on his valorous opponent. 
 
 8 
 
 "Don t be swearing at me!" was 
 the wrathful response. "I m not your 
 slave, sir ! If you only knew it, every 
 body has his opinion of your marrying 
 your daughter against her will to this 
 foreigner, when she loves young Innis 
 he loves her too, and gives up his whole 
 property to the man who s come to take 
 away his sweetheart ! " 
 
 A low cry followed the words, and 
 Lady Brand caught Honoria in her arms. 
 The girl had fainted, and was borne 
 from the apartment in the midst of a 
 scene of the utmost agitation and con 
 fusion. Above this scene towered the 
 wrathful form of Colonel Brand ; and it 
 is impossible to say what might have 
 occurred, had not his drunken oppo 
 nent been borne almost forcibly from the 
 room, and soon afterward to his home. 
 
 Eor some moments the colonel stood 
 silent, flushed with rage, and drawing 
 long breaths. He was evidently strug 
 gling against his rage, and succeeded in 
 controlling himself. But the attention 
 of all was more particularly directed to 
 Lord Ruthven. His expression was full 
 of the deadliest menace, and he resem 
 bled a tiger about to spring. Those who 
 had looked at him during the utterance 
 of the vulgar insults of the drunken 
 guest, said afterward that his hand had 
 silently glidefl to his side where the High 
 land dirk is generally suspended, and 
 that his glaring eyes betrayed a positive 
 thirst for the offender s blood. 
 
 Colonel Brand s voice all at once made 
 itself heard in the turmoil. In stern and 
 gloomy tones, he said : 
 
 " I-pray those who have done me the 
 honor to assemble at my board, to for 
 get, if possible, this offensive intrusion 
 of this vulgar person. Such accidents 
 must occur, when persons unfamiliar 
 with the commonest rules of good-breed 
 ing, are invited to mingle in the society 
 of gentlemen. I disdain to reply to this 
 man s insults ; and Mr. Innis my young 
 friend and kinsman, now undisputed own- 
 
114 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 er of the lands of Rivanna would be 
 the first to express his disgust at this vul 
 gar insolence ! " 
 
 The colonel resumed his seat, and the 
 dinner went on its way, but the festivity 
 Tras all hushed. The meal ended in om 
 inous silence, and the company rose and 
 returned to the drawing-room. 
 
 At the same moment the great hall- 
 door was thrown open. A newly-arrived 
 personage, wrapped in a huge cloak, 
 stamped to cleanse the snow from his feet 
 and this personage, coining into the 
 circle of light, revealed the squat and 
 powerful figure, the long, gray hair, and 
 piercing eyes of Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 THE CONTENTS OF RUTHVEX S TRUNKS. 
 
 As Lord Ruthven passed Dr. Van 
 dyke, on his way to the drawing-room, 
 their eyes met, and the young nobleman, 
 going close to him, said, in a low voice, 
 quite inaudible to the rest of the com 
 pany : 
 
 " I wish to have a few moments pri 
 vate conversation with you, doctor." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke s piercing glance seemed 
 to aim at penetrating the design of the 
 speaker : but Ruthven remained calm 
 and impressive. 
 
 " When ? " said Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 " In half an hour." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " In my chamber." 
 
 The physician nodded. 
 
 "I will come thither; but will first 
 go see Lady Brand and the child, Meta. 
 I came for that." 
 
 With these words, Dr. Vandyke be 
 stowed a comprehensive nod upon the 
 company, who gazed at his singular fig 
 ure with some astonishment, and pro 
 ceeded, without ceremony, toward the 
 wing of the mansion, in which Meta s 
 chamber was situated. 
 
 Colonel Brand, who had greeted the 
 doctor with a stately bow, looked after 
 him, and now said : 
 
 "Our friend Dr. Vandyke is a some 
 what singular personage, my lord." 
 
 u But a most estimable person," re 
 turned Ruthven. 
 
 " Assuredly ; and I owe him my per 
 sonal thanks for coming through such 
 weather to see Meta." 
 
 " She is better, I trust, sir ? " 
 
 " We hope so." 
 
 " Tis a pleasing augury, on an occa 
 sion of this description," said Ruthven; 
 " and now, with your permission, sir, I 
 will retire to my chamber for a short 
 space." 
 
 Colonel Brand bowed. , 
 
 " I will conduct you, my lord." 
 
 " Tis unnecessary. Let me not take 
 you from your guests." 
 
 And, with a gesture of courteous re 
 fusal, Lord Ruthven went up the great 
 staircase toward his chamber. 
 
 As he entered he saw Fergus stand 
 ing with his back toward him, gazing 
 upon a portrait upon the wall between 
 two of the lofty windows. The apart 
 ment was elegantly furnished with what 
 is now called an " ashes-of-roses " car 
 pet, a centre-table of carved oak, easy- 
 chairs, a couch, an immense bed, and in 
 the fireplace burned a cheerful fire. 
 
 For the moment, Fergus seemed quite 
 unaware of all these surroundings. His 
 eyes were fixed upon the portrait with 
 absorbing attention ; and, looking in the 
 same direction, Lord Ruthven betrayed 
 much astonishment. The portrait was 
 an exact likeness of himself, and this fact 
 evidently astounded the old body-ser 
 vant. Ruthven speedily remembered, 
 however, that Colonel Brand had in 
 formed him of the existence of this por 
 trait of the elder Lord Ruthven which 
 had been hung in this apartment after 
 its removal from Honoria s chamber 
 and he wondered that he had not noticed 
 it on his first entrance. 
 
THE CONTENTS OF RUTHVEX S TRUNKS. 
 
 115 
 
 " That is a striking likeness, Fergus," 
 he said. 
 
 The old body-servant suddenly turned 
 round. 
 
 " Is it a picture of the late lord or of 
 your lordship ? " 
 
 " Of the late lord, who was Colonel 
 Brand s friend." 
 
 Fergus nodded. 
 
 " T would do for either, my lord, and 
 is surprising." 
 
 Ruthven stood for some time, gazing 
 at the painting. 
 
 " The sight of this picture takes me 
 back to Ruthven Castle, when I was a 
 child, Fergus," he said ; " and that seems 
 a long time ago." 
 " A very long time, my lord." 
 
 " And who would then have dreamed 
 that Fate would conduct me to this re 
 mote spot in the Virginia mountains; 
 that my errand here would be to find a 
 Lady Ruthven; and that, at the very 
 moment when the ceremony is about to 
 take place, I should see my father, as it 
 were, looking at me with his sad, stern 
 eyes ; for the eyes are very sad, Fergus 
 full of melancholy, I think ! " 
 
 The words were uttered in a sorrowful 
 voice, and Lord Ruthven s head drooped. 
 
 " Strange destiny," he murmured ; 
 " and who can foretell his fate ? Singu 
 lar current of events! That portrait 
 was painted when the original was a 
 strong and stalwart man I a rosy- 
 cheeked child. He is long dead now 
 and I am no longer a happy child, but a 
 very sorrowful man, Fergus sorrow 
 ful, but not bad, Fergus ! I think there 
 is even much good in me, old friend. 
 My visions have not disturbed me 
 now for weeks a strange softness and 
 kindness seem to have come to me! 
 Shall I be happy, then ? Has my evil 
 genius fled, to make way for the benefi 
 cent spirit of love and happiness ? " 
 
 " Heaven grant it, my lord ! " said 
 Fergus, with earnest feeling. 
 
 " Perchance tis you who are my good 
 
 genius, Fergus," said Ruthven, with a 
 glance of affection. "You are devoted 
 to me, I know, as few clansmen are to 
 their chieftains." 
 
 "Devoted, my lord?" said the old 
 man, with a flush in his aged cheeks; 
 "that is scarcely the word. You ;;re 
 more to me than I am to myself! Your 
 happiness and honor are no less, nay, 
 more, my care than your own ! I would 
 guard them, as the watch-dog guards Lis 
 charge on the hills ; and, tis not much 
 to say that I would die for you ! " 
 
 Fergus turned away to hide the emo 
 tion, of which he seemed to be somewhat 
 ashamed, and busied himself in taking 
 from Lord Ruthven s trunks the various 
 articles of his wardrobe. Among these 
 were two or three dress-swords at that 
 time a portion of the full toilet of a gen 
 tleman and these he laid upon the ta 
 ble. Next came a number of articles of 
 dress, and then a curiously-fashioned 
 Highland dirk. 
 
 At sight of this weapon, Ruthven ap 
 proached, and said, gently : 
 
 " Replace that dangerous-looking af 
 fair, Fergus ; tis out of place on so hap 
 py an occasion. Why was it brought ? " 
 
 " From habit, my lord. We High 
 landers, you know, carry the dirk, as the 
 Sassenoch wears his rapier. Tis from 
 custom ; and this came with the other 
 things." 
 
 " So be it ; but hide it away twould 
 fright some of the servants." 
 
 " I will obey you, my lord." 
 
 And Fergus replaced the grim-look 
 ing weapon in the trunk, where it lay, 
 concealed beneath an embroidered coat 
 and the ruffled linen of its owner. 
 
 " Your lordship will not change your 
 dress? " said Fergus, when this ceremony 
 had been performed. 
 
 " No, Fergus ; I am, I believe, prop 
 erly attired." 
 
 At this same moment a knock came 
 at the door. 
 
 " Come in," said Ruthven. 
 
116 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 META AND HER PHYSICIAN. 
 
 META was lying on a small couch be 
 side the fire, in her little apartment in 
 one of the wings ; and Lady Brand, who 
 had succeeded in soothing Honoria s agi 
 tation, and had intrusted her to the care 
 of her bridesmaids, had come for a few 
 moments to see Meta before the cere 
 mony. The child was very thin and 
 white, and her black hair, lying in pro 
 fuse curls upon the snowy pillow, framed 
 the sweet countenance, lit up by a tender 
 smile. 
 
 Lady Brand was engaged in conversa- 
 sation with Meta, sighing deeply from 
 time to time, as she thought of Honoria, 
 when steps were heard approaching. 
 The door suddenly opened, and a hearty 
 voice cried : 
 
 " "Well, my little snow-drop, how are 
 we to-day ? " 
 
 With the words, Dr. Vandyke clat 
 tered into the apartment, sbook hands 
 vigorously with Lady Brand, and then 
 went to Meta. 
 
 " Oh, I am very glad to see you, doc 
 tor," said the child, with a bright smile. 
 u Do you know there is something about 
 you I don t know what, but I think it 
 is sunshine ! " 
 
 This seemed to highly please Dr. Van 
 dyke. 
 
 " Hear her ! " he exclaimed. " And 
 this is your boasted invalid your pining 
 sick girl ! " 
 
 " I am not pining, doctor ! " 
 
 "I should think not! Pining? Ha, 
 ha! You are radiant, inspiring, sun 
 beam like positively jolly ! " exclaimed 
 the doctor, in search of a word. 
 
 " Then I am better ? " 
 
 " You are getting well so fast that it 
 is a perfect farce for me to be coming all 
 the way from Williamsburg, through the 
 snow, to look after you. But I knew 
 twas unnecessary. I came to the wed 
 ding." 
 
 Meta looked a little sad at this, and 
 sighed. 
 
 " Yes, Cousin Honoria is to be mar 
 ried," she said, pensively ; " and mamma 
 tells me everybody in the neighborhood 
 is here." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke s preternaturally acute 
 ear caught the sigh, and his penetrating 
 intelligence comprehended it. 
 
 "Edmund Innis is the only one ab 
 sent," he said; "but that is easily ac 
 counted for : he s left the country, for a 
 time." 
 
 " Left the country, doctor ? " 
 "Yes; some time since. Yon see, 
 my dear, he had a sort of weakness for 
 Mam selle Honoria, and was unwilling to 
 be present on this joyous occasion. At 
 first he was unhappy about the affair, 
 and would see nobody not even his 
 friend Phil Gary. When he perceived 
 the approach up the mountain-road of 
 that young man, he shut up doors and 
 windows, retired to his inner den, and 
 would not open. I went to see him, 
 however, and he did me the honor to re 
 ceive me." 
 
 " And? " began Meta, eagerly. 
 "We talked about the matter dis 
 cussed it in every form ; and I found my 
 young friend quite resigned. The affair 
 was unlucky, he said, but such things 
 would occasionally occur. He had loved 
 Honoria but that was over now. He 
 could still love her as her brother." 
 
 Meta closed her eyes, murmuring to 
 herself: 
 
 "And I have changed too. I love 
 him only as a sister might." 
 
 " What did you say, my dear ? " 
 " Nothing, doctor. I am so glad that 
 Edmund is resigned, and does not 
 grieve." 
 
 "Grieve? I think not! Why, my 
 dear little one, only conceive that we 
 spent a jolly night together. I give yon 
 my word of honor, we made a bowl of 
 punch, and, as well as I remember the 
 punch was rather strong we, or I, at 
 
META AND HER PHYSICIAN. 
 
 117 
 
 least, chanted a bacchanalian song ha ! 
 ha! 1 
 
 "What Dr. Vandyke stated "on his 
 word of honor" was always the truth 
 omitting that phrase, he considered him 
 self, on certain occasions, and for certain 
 purposes, justifiable, we are sorry to say, 
 in telling lies. 
 
 " The song sung on this occasion was, 
 I believe, The Jolly Miller, " he con 
 tinued. "You have not heard it? It 
 commences thus " 
 
 And, in a powerful voice, gesticulat 
 ing as he sung, Dr. Vandyke chanted : 
 
 " There was a jolly miller, 
 
 And a jolly wight was he " 
 
 At which point he suddenly stopped, ex 
 claiming : 
 
 " But the fine company will be star 
 tled by my mellifluous strains ! Let us 
 respect the rules of good society, my 
 friends." 
 
 And, looking sidewise at Meta, Dr. 
 Vandyke saw that she was ready to 
 laugh. 
 
 "Good!" he muttered; "who says 
 . there s no advantage in playing the buf 
 foon?" 
 
 And, in his careless, hearty voice, he 
 said aloud : 
 
 " In fact, my dear, we made a night 
 of it, and I came near inducing our 
 young friend Innis to be present at the 
 wedding, take things philosophically, 
 and not go on his travels. He deter 
 mined, nevertheless, to adhere to his 
 original intention not to come, and to 
 make a brief tour, at least, with a view 
 of coming back home when he had 
 quieted down. So he went won t be 
 here and now let us talk of other 
 things. You are fast recovering, my 
 dear. I am going to feel your pulse, 
 and put my ear on your chest, just for 
 the form of the thing." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke then enclosed the thin 
 wrist of Meta in his immense hand, the 
 index-finger touching the vein. At the 
 
 same moment he bent down and placed 
 his ear upon the child s breast. 
 
 "Pulse, excellent; breathing, all that 
 could be wished," he said. " Only keep 
 up your spirits, my little snow-bird, and 
 you ll soon be well." 
 
 Meta smiled. The intelligence in 
 reference to Innis had inexpressibly re 
 lieved her, and now the good news of 
 her condition further cheered her. 
 
 "You are very changeable in your 
 comparisons, doctor," she said; "you 
 make me out at one moment a snow- 
 drop, and then a snow-fo nZ." 
 
 "And are you not both? say, little 
 Miss White-face, with your little chirp 
 ing voice." 
 
 "You must be trying to make me 
 laugh, doctor." 
 
 " To make you laugh ? Not a bit 
 I am telling you the truth. You are 
 getting well." 
 
 Meta s face was lit up by a tender, 
 happy light. 
 
 " I am very, very glad, doctor," she 
 said, gently. "I am not afraid to die, 
 for God is kind and good, and I do not 
 fear Him I love Him, and think He 
 would receive me, a poor little child. 
 But I would like to live to be with 
 mamma, and all I love so now." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke s face slightly flushed. 
 
 "Right," he said, no longer able to 
 preserve his jocular air, and gazing, as 
 he spoke, at the child with great tender 
 ness. He then looked at his watch, and 
 turned to Lady Brand, who had just 
 risen. 
 
 "I must retire and change my dress 
 now, madam. Will you show me my 
 chamber ? " 
 
 " At once, doctor." 
 
 And, assuring Meta that she would 
 send her her old nurse, who genernlly 
 remained in the chamber, Lady Untml 
 went out with the doctor, closing the 
 door. When they were thus alone, tlie 
 lady said : 
 "You do not think as favorablv of 
 
118 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 the poor child s condition as you seem to 
 do, doctor?" 
 
 " No," said Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 " Why, then" 
 
 " Tell her lies? Because, if she lives, 
 twill smooth the way ; if she dies, twill 
 do no harm. I make it a point to tell 
 lies in my profession, madam. There is 
 no change for the worse, that is all." 
 
 Lady Brand sighed. 
 
 "And what you said of Edmund? " 
 
 " Was a lie also," returned Dr. Van 
 dyke, with candor. "He is wretched 
 enough. I tried to cheer him and con 
 sole him, but could do nothing ; and can 
 only say, I think nothing unfortunate 
 will happen, which I feared/ 
 
 "Heaven grant it! Whither did he 
 go, doctor ? " 
 
 " I do not know." 
 
 "This sad, sad business ! " 
 
 "Very sad, madam ; but life is a sad 
 affair, however you take it. Now, time 
 is passing, and I have an appointment 
 with Lord Ruthven, who wishes to see 
 me, he says, for a few moments. Which 
 is his chamber ? " 
 
 " The second door on the right after 
 ascending the main staircase. You will 
 scarcely have time, doctor. Honoria s 
 toilet is made, and the ceremony will 
 soon take place." 
 
 "There will be time, doubtless." 
 
 With which words Dr. Vandyke 
 gained the hall, mounted the great stair 
 case, which wound up to the area above, 
 and knocked at Lord Ruthven s door just 
 at the moment when Fergus had replaced 
 the Highland dirk in the trunk, and asked 
 his master if any change was necessary 
 in his dress. 
 
 LI. 
 
 THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN" LORD RUTHVEN 
 AND DR. VANDYKE. 
 
 AT the words " Come in ! " Dr. Van 
 dyke turned the knob of the door and 
 
 entered. In the few moments which 
 had elapsed since the end of the inter 
 view with Meta, the eccentric physician s 
 impression had undergone an entire 
 change. In the child s chamber he had 
 laughed, jested, nearly played the clown 
 now he was cold, stern, collected, with 
 the air of a man who does not particu 
 larly relish the society of the person 
 with whom he is about to converse, and 
 has made up his mind to be surprised at 
 nothing. 
 
 As Dr. Vandyke advanced into the 
 apartment, Lord Ruthven bowed with 
 calm courtesy, and said : 
 
 " Welcome, doctor ; I thank you for 
 your punctuality." 
 
 He then turned to Fergus. 
 
 " Leave us to ourselves, Fergus, clos 
 ing the door carefully. Remain there 
 without, and see that no one approaches 
 the door. I wish to converse for a few 
 moments with Dr. Vandyke." 
 
 Fergus silently left the apartment, 
 closing the door after him. Lord Ruth- 
 ven s next proceeding was singular. He 
 raised a window and looked out upon a 
 species of balcony, apparently to ascer 
 tain if any one were there; closed the 
 window, went and sounded the walls, 
 carefully locked the door, and then re 
 turned to the fireplace, near which Dr. 
 Vandyke was standing. 
 
 "We are entirely alone, doctor," he 
 said, " and may converse upon matters 
 the most secret without danger of being 
 overheard." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke looked intently at Ruth 
 ven, but simply nodded. 
 
 "This interview is, no doubt, a mys 
 tery to you I mean its object?" con 
 tinued Lord Ruthven. 
 " Humph ! perhaps perhaps not." 
 
 " We shall see but you have visited 
 Meta. She is better, I trust ? " 
 
 " No better." 
 
 "Worse?" 
 
 " No worse." 
 
 " But not agitated suffering ? " 
 
THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN LORD RUTHVEN AXD DR. VANDYKE. 119 
 
 "Not at all." 
 
 " Will she live, or die ? " 
 
 Lord Ruthven seemed unable or un 
 willing to come to the real subject of the 
 interview. 
 
 - Will she live, or die ? " repeated Dr. 
 Vandyke. " To answer that question I 
 should require to be a divinity and I 
 am a worm ! What matters it ? What 
 is life or death ? This child will see the 
 spring-flowers at Rivanna or in heaven ! 
 Tis the same." 
 
 A dreamy glance of the eyes accom 
 panied the words. The metallic voice 
 was suddenly modulated, and sounded 
 like music. 
 
 " You seem moved, doctor," said Lord 
 Ruth ven. 
 
 " Moved ? " 
 
 " Your voice grows soft I scarcely 
 recognize it." 
 
 "Well, that is the sequel of talking 
 with a sick girl. I am nearly seventy, 
 without illusions my heart is hard 
 well, the patience and sweetness of this 
 child have melted me. But, to business! " 
 
 Lord Ruthven bowed. 
 
 " True, doctor and time presses. I 
 have not requested you to inform me of 
 Miss Brand s condition ; she fainted in 
 consequence of a very disgusting scene 
 at dinner, but has, I am assured, recov 
 ered now, and is preparing for the ap 
 proaching ceremony." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Ruthven was silent for a moment ; 
 then he looked fixedly at the doctor, and 
 said: 
 
 " Tis of the ceremony my marriage 
 that I desire to speak with you." 
 
 " I know it." 
 
 Ruthven was again silent. The glance 
 fixed upon Dr. Vandyke grew more in 
 tense. 
 
 u We are losing time, doctor," he 
 said, with sudden gloom. 
 
 " Well, come to the point ! " 
 
 " I will do so. You think me in 
 sane ! " 
 
 " Is that a question ? " 
 
 " Reply to the words as though they 
 were, doctor." 
 
 " To be frank, then I do." 
 
 "And yet, you are absolutely mis 
 taken." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke smiled grimly, but said 
 nothing. This silence and the expression 
 of the physician s countenance apparent 
 ly irritated Lord Ruthven. 
 
 " You would say if you said any 
 thing, sir," he exclaimed "that mad 
 men never believe themselves mad, 
 would you not? Well, that is perfectly 
 just, and I do not ask you to take my 
 own denial. What I do ask of you is, an 
 attentive perusal of this paper." 
 
 And, taking from his breast a folded 
 document, Ruthven extended it toward 
 Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 " Tis a strange testimony, and on a 
 strange subject," said Ruthven, relapsing 
 into gloom, " as you will perceive, sir. I, 
 too, was disposed to entertain, at one 
 time, the same conviction you entertain 
 regarded myself as of unsound mind 
 and took steps to determine the question. 
 I visited Paris, Rome, Berlin, and the 
 chief cities of Europe, where, frankly, 
 fully, without reservation, my case, to 
 use the medical term, was laid before the 
 first physicians. These gentlemen sub 
 jected me to the severest examination 
 prosecuted the investigation without 
 ceremony and there is the result." 
 
 Ruthven pointed, as he spoke, to the 
 paper, upon which were a few lines of 
 writing in five different languages, signed 
 by five of the first physicians of Europe. 
 Of these languages, Dr. Vandyke was 
 familiar with four French, German, 
 Italian, and Latin; and a perusal of the 
 paper placed the fact beyond doubt that 
 the man whom he regarded as a mad 
 man was considered perfectly sane by 
 five of the most celebrated doctors of the 
 Old World. 
 
 The tact staggered him. 
 
 U I see that you still doubt," said 
 
120 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 Ruthven ; " and, after all, doctor, au 
 thority, however great it may be, is still 
 inconclusive, since the human mind is 
 liable to error. Use, then, your own 
 judgment. Madmen have a strange glit 
 ter of the eye my eyes, I believe, are 
 calm. Their expression is wild, roving 
 do you perceive aught of wildness in 
 mine? They talk incoherently do I? 
 I reason, remember, love, and hate nor 
 mally, and can be charged. I think, at 
 worst, with being the victim of an ab 
 surd superstition. Can you tell me what 
 human being is not irrational or super 
 stitious upon some point ? " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke was more and more 
 staggered. Lord Ruthven saw the ad 
 vantage which he had gained, and re 
 sumed with ardor the strange conversa 
 tion. 
 
 " I speak to one who will understand 
 me, and weigh my words in the scales of 
 reason," he said. "You and I, doctor, 
 are not children, or shallow gossips talk 
 ing neighborhood news. I would de 
 scend with you, if possible, into the 
 depths of this profound subject, and en 
 deavor to reach some just and rational 
 conclusion. Is that rational? " 
 
 And a sad smile came to the speak 
 er s lips. 
 
 "Yes; go on," said Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 " Well, to sum up in a few words. 
 You hold in your hand evidence of the 
 fact that the first savants of Europe re 
 gard me as a person of sound mind; 
 neither in my eyes, my talk, nor my acts, 
 do you perceive traces of aberration of 
 mind, which, I need not tell so distin 
 guished a physician as yourself, signifies 
 divergence, either in diminution or ex 
 cess, from the normal condition. What 
 remains is this simple superstition of 
 let us speak plainly second-sight ; that 
 is to say, the conviction that the future 
 is revealed to certain persons in dreams. 
 That is all is it not ? " 
 
 "All," said Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 " Then I triumph ! For, demand of 
 
 your reading, your study, your observa 
 tion, whether the world is not full of 
 vulgar errors if you choose to call 
 this such. Is the peasant insane who 
 believes that the hare running across his 
 path brings bad fortune? Is the sailor 
 insane who believes that Friday is an ill 
 day for the commencement of his voy 
 age ? Is the Irish squire insane who be 
 lieves that the banshee cries when Death 
 is about to visit his household ? All be 
 lieve are they necessarily insane there 
 fore ? Absurd, irrational, credulous, you 
 may call them; but are they really in 
 sane ? " 
 
 "That s good sense, I grant you," 
 said Dr. Vandyke ; " and your supersti 
 tion" 
 
 " Was, doubtless, instilled into me by 
 some old Highland crone, who believed 
 in every thing and nothing. The child s 
 mind is wax doubtless, my own took 
 the imprint." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke knit his brows. 
 
 "And you yourself, then, consider all 
 this second-sight business folly and moon 
 shine? " he said. 
 
 Ruthven s brows were knit in turn; 
 and, with a strange, gloomy look, he 
 said : 
 
 "I know not! How ask a human 
 being, the victim of superstition, if he is 
 superstitious ? I reason, simply tis for 
 you to judge. And one of the elements 
 of your decision must be the rational or 
 irrational character of my reasoning." 
 
 "Judging thus, you are sane," said 
 Dr. Vandyke. " No pride of opinion 
 shall prevent me from saying that. But 
 these stubborn Ituts! tell me some 
 thing more important." 
 
 " Speak, doctor." 
 
 " This second-sight what is it ? " 
 
 "The future seen in vision," replied 
 Ruthven, in a low tone. 
 
 "Seen clearly?" 
 
 "Clearly!" 
 
 " Recalled clearly when you awake? " 
 
 " With absolute distinctness." 
 
THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN LORD RUTHVEN AND DR. VANDYKE. 121 
 
 " All faces, places ? " 
 
 "All ! " said Ruthven, in a still lower 
 voice. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke nodded. 
 
 "Now, but one thing remains," he 
 said " to tell me what your vision, as 
 you style it, has been in connection 
 with" 
 
 He paused, looking at Ruthven, who 
 was as pale as death. 
 
 " Speak out," the latter whispered. 
 
 " In connection with Honoria Brand 
 and Edmund Innis ! " said Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 Lord Ruthven breathed heavily, and 
 made no reply. Fully five minutes 
 elapsed before he could speak. Then he 
 said, in an almost inaudible tone : 
 
 " Twas to tell you that, or to let yon 
 read something I have written, that I 
 asked this interview." 
 
 " To read something ? " 
 
 " This ! " 
 
 And Ruthven drew from his breast 
 the paper which he had written on that 
 night at Williamsburg. Dr. Vandyke ex 
 tended his hand to take it his eyes 
 blazing with curiosity but Ruthven 
 drew back. 
 
 " A moment ! " he said. " Before 
 proceeding further, or intrusting this 
 paper to you, I must exact a promise." 
 
 " What promise ? " 
 
 "That you will take no steps to ob 
 struct my marriage ! " 
 
 " To obstruct your marriage ? " 
 
 " You may otherwise fancy that tis 
 desirable to do so." 
 
 Dr. Vandyke looked gloomily at the 
 speaker, whose cheeks had filled with 
 blood. 
 
 " And if I refuse to give this prom 
 ise?" 
 
 " Your perusal of this paper will be 
 impossible ! " 
 
 " I will give no promise ! " 
 
 "So be it." 
 
 And Lord Ruthven restored the paper 
 to his breast. 
 
 " Stop ! " said Dr. Vandyke, for his 
 
 master - weakness, curiosity, overcame 
 him. "What is it that you exact as a 
 condition precedent to my reading your 
 statement ? " 
 
 " That you shall take no steps what 
 ever, in consequence of having come 
 into possession of my secret." 
 
 " What steps do you speak of ? " 
 
 " Any steps ! " 
 
 "I am to remain silent, inactive 
 whatever I may read ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " 
 
 " Impossible ! " 
 
 Lord Ruthven inclined his head. 
 
 " As you will, doctor. But, observe, 
 that your ignorance is equally disadvan 
 tageous with your obligation." 
 
 "True," muttered Dr. Vandyke. 
 With a hesitating movement, he extend 
 ed his hand. 
 
 " Give it me ! " he said. 
 
 " You accept the condition ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " 
 
 " You swear upon your honor to re 
 main silent, and to take no steps what 
 ever to place an obstacle in the way of 
 my marriage with Miss Brand, whatever 
 you may read in this paper which I have 
 written ? " 
 
 " I swear ! " 
 
 "Enough, sir. The word of a man 
 like yourself is sufficient. Read ! " 
 
 And, unsealing the package, he ex 
 tended it to Dr. Vandyke, who clutched 
 it eagerly, and began to read by the light 
 of the wax-candles in the silver cande 
 labra on the tall mantel-piece. Lord 
 Ruthven, meanwhile, remained erect 
 near the mantel-piece, upon one of 
 whose carved ledges he leaned his el 
 bow. His face had resumed its deep 
 pallor, and his dark eyes were half 
 closed, the long lashes drooping toward 
 the cheeks. 
 
 As Dr. Vandyke proceeded with his 
 perusal of the document, his countenance 
 gradually lost its color, and his lips were 
 closely compressed, or, opening, showed 
 the large teeth set like iron beneath. 
 
122 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 When approaching the middle of the 
 paper, these evidences of emotion be 
 came more marked and striking. Tow 
 ard the end, every particle of blood 
 faded from his face, his bosom labored 
 with long breaths, and, suddenly finish 
 ing the paper, he whirled it from him, 
 raised his head, and exclaimed, in hoarse, 
 imperious tones his frame shaking, his 
 eyes blaziug : 
 
 "You have laid a trap for me ! You 
 are ! .Oh ! to exact that oath ! Mon 
 strous ! But I will not be bound by it ! 
 Before I ll stand by, silent, and permit 
 this marriage to proceed, I will " 
 
 Ruthven stooped, and drew from the 
 trunk, in which Fergus had hidden it, 
 the Highland dirk. 
 
 " Here is the very weapon ! " he sai<?, 
 in his deep voice. " Strike ! " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke drew a long breath, 
 shuddering visibly. 
 
 " You are mad, after all ! " he mut 
 tered, hoarsely. 
 
 " I am as sane as yourself! " 
 
 "I will reveal the contents of this 
 accursed paper ! " 
 
 M You dare not ! You are bound by 
 your word of gentleman ! " 
 
 " And you would have rne permit this 
 murderous " 
 
 Lord Ruthven extended his hand, and 
 placed it on the physician s lips. 
 
 " Your promise ! " he said. 
 
 Dr. Vandyke fell heavily into a chair, 
 uttering a groan. Lord Ruthven quietly 
 refolded the paper, sealed it again, placed 
 it in a drawer of the table beside him, 
 and said, coldly : 
 
 " If any thing should happen, remem 
 ber that the paper is there. Tis my vin 
 dication ! " 
 
 He shuddered as he uttered the words 
 "if any thing should happen," and 
 looked for a moment at Dr. Vandyke in 
 silence. 
 
 u But, what can happen ? " he con 
 tinued, in a deep, firm, measured voice. 
 "Do you think, sir, that I would not 
 
 plunge this dirk into my heart before- 
 committing that crime ? And ask your 
 self another question: What earthly 
 motive could I have for this deed without 
 a name? Men act from rational mo 
 tives except madmen ; and you declare 
 that I am not mad ! What motive here ? 
 He has left the country ; and, as to the 
 other, what earthly motive could impel 
 me to a deed at which my soul revolts ? 
 I love, adore, worship, this woman I 
 would lie down and die to save her from 
 a moment s suffering! And yet you 
 think you dream that I am capable 
 without motive, I say without motive!" 
 
 " Woe to you ! " cried Dr. Vandyke, 
 suddenly bounding up and confronting 
 the speaker " woe to you if you take 
 one step toward the commission of this 
 horror! I am old, but not weak; I 
 would slay you with my own hand ! " 
 
 "And you would do right! I will 
 not resist ! But listen." 
 
 And he went close up to Dr. Van 
 dyke. 
 
 " I do not know," he said, in a low 
 voice, " if there be truth or no in this 
 forewarning if the devil will or will not 
 tempt me to a crime without conceivable 
 reason ! But I am a free agent to a cer 
 tain point. This horror will take place, 
 if it takes place at all, at midnight. 
 Well, neither at midnight, nor at any 
 other hour between the marriage cere 
 mony and dawn, shall my foot be placed 
 in that chamber do you hear, doctor ? " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke rose erect, and looked 
 at the speaker with blazing eyes. 
 
 " Swear it ! " he said. 
 
 Before Ruthven could reply, a knock 
 was heard at the door, and Fergus en 
 tered. 
 
 " They await you, my lord," he said ; 
 " the bride is ready." 
 
THE APPOINTMENT. 
 
 123 
 
 LII. 
 
 UNDER THE OAK. 
 
 DUEING the progress of these scenes 
 in private apartments of the large estab 
 lishment, numerous guests had continued 
 to arrive, and the night was full of noise. 
 
 Chariot after chariot rolled up to the 
 door, depositing portly old planters in 
 huge ruffles, smiling old dames in silk 
 and diamonds, and beautiful damsels in 
 lace and satin, with pearls in their hair, 
 and round arms sparkling with bracelets ; 
 with them came young gallants on spir 
 ited horses. All hastened in out of the 
 cold ; and the great mansion, blazing 
 from garret to basement, was crowded 
 with a gay company, from which rose an 
 incessant buzz and uproar. 
 
 The disagreeable scene at dinner was 
 not alluded to ; jest and merriment and 
 laughter resounded; and the large as 
 semblage, moving to and fro in the light 
 of the candelabra, was the picture of en 
 joyment. 
 
 Such was the scene within. With 
 out, the vast, wild landscape slept in its 
 snowy shroud, and the night wind swept 
 along a ghostly thing on invisible wings 
 across the freezing expanse, to die 
 away, with a low moan, in the dense 
 evergreens. 
 
 The moon had risen like a bloody 
 shield, and, as it was rolled into the sky, 
 poured upon the dreary waste a mourn 
 ful and mysterious light, which rendered 
 the snow more spectral, and the scene 
 more forbidding. The lofty pines rose 
 up like phantoms; and, at certain mo 
 ments, the night wind, in their tufted 
 heads, resembled the low cry of some 
 creature perishing from cold, or calling 
 for assistance against danger. 
 
 The contrast between this sombre 
 scene and that within Rivanna was star 
 tling. The company had all arrived ; 
 the drivers of the numerous vehicles 
 were safely housed, like their masters, 
 from the cold ; and silence had settled 
 
 down on the wild waste of snow, wrap 
 ping the whole earth as far as the eye 
 could see. 
 
 As the night advanced, there appeared 
 on this chill expanse a single human fig 
 ure that of a man who leaped the en 
 closure of the grounds below the hill, 
 crossed the expanse, with slow, meas 
 ured steps, and reached the large oak- 
 tree beneath which Honoria and Innis 
 had plighted their troth. 
 
 Having reached this spot, the new 
 comer stopped, wrapped his cloak closely 
 around his shoulders, and leaned against 
 the trunk whose shadow concealed him 
 looking intently, as he did so, toward 
 the great mansion, blazing with lights. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 THE APPOINTMENT. 
 
 HONOEIA was standing before the 
 mirror in her chamber, surrounded by 
 the brilliant little beauties, her brides 
 maids, who, having assiduously aided the 
 young lady in making her toilet, now 
 gazed at her with rapture. The senti 
 ment seemed wholly unaffected. Hono- 
 ria s exquisite but girlish beauty had sud 
 denly taken to itself something cold and 
 queenly, and it was only on a careful 
 scrutiny that the rose in the cheeks was 
 seen to be a hectic flush, and the calm 
 ness of the eyes that of utter despair. 
 
 One person alone understood the 
 young lady s feelings, and was not de 
 ceived by this ominous calmness her 
 mother. Lady Brand had assisted her 
 daughter in dressing ; had trembled at 
 the thought of what she must pass 
 through; and now gazed at her with 
 deep anxiety. 
 
 "Be calm, dear this is well," she 
 said. " Come now, and sit down and 
 rest before the ceremony." 
 
 "I am not tired, mother," was the 
 young lady s reply, "and my strength 
 will not fail me." 
 
124 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 Lady Brand shook her head sadly. 
 " My poor, poor child I " she mur 
 mured, "you appear calm, but you are 
 really feverish, agitated, laboring under 
 nervous excitement." 
 
 A strange smile came to the young 
 lady s lips. 
 
 "Excitement! oh, no! mamma, I 
 am perfectly calm." 
 
 "At least come and sit down." 
 
 "I would rather stand, mamma." 
 
 Lady Brand sighed deeply. 
 
 u But you must positively remain 
 quiet : a few moments of privacy, to 
 collect your thoughts, my child " 
 
 And Lady Brand looked at the brides 
 maids, who, taking the hint, quietly left 
 the apartment. As the last disappeared, 
 mother and daughter exchanged a long 
 look. But no alteration took place in 
 the young lady s demeanor. She was 
 still perfectly calm, but this, it was obvi 
 ous, arose from a morbid state of mind. 
 
 " My child," exclaimed Lady Brand, 
 "you are very, very unwell! Come, 
 lean your head upon my bosom ; it will 
 rest and soothe you ! You will remember, 
 perhaps, the time when you were a little 
 child, and dropped to sleep there." 
 
 The fond mother s arms were extend 
 ed, but Honoria did not move. 
 
 " O me ! " she murmured. " I am 
 not a child ! if I only were a little child 
 again ! " 
 
 " You are my child still, my own 
 dear little one 1 " 
 
 The words came with a burst of grief 
 from the trembling lips. 
 
 "Oome lean your head here! it 
 will rest you, my own Honoria! " 
 
 But the young lady drew back, and 
 the same strange smile again came to her 
 lips. 
 
 "Lean my head upon your breast, 
 mamma ! " she said, in a singular voice. 
 "How can you propose such a thing? 
 Twould spoil my bonny bridal curls and 
 flowers." 
 
 As she spoke, she pointed to the 
 
 snowy wreath above her long bridal veil, 
 and began to sing in a low voice : 
 
 " Oh I the bonny, bonny bride, 
 And the bonny, bonny flowers 
 In her hair 1 " 
 
 The strange intonation of the girl s 
 voice made her mother tremble. 
 
 " Come, come, Honoria ! " she ex 
 claimed, in accents of displeasure, "this 
 is out of place ! " 
 
 "What is out of place, mamma ! " 
 
 "This levity this unnatural gayety. 
 It belies your feelings." 
 
 " Belies my feelings, mamma ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes! Honoria you never 
 were so miserable ! " 
 
 "Miserable?" repeated the young 
 lady, with the same strange smile on her 
 lips, " why, what an idea ! Am I not 
 about to become the happy bride of a 
 very great nobleman to make a brill 
 iant match, as every one says? I shall 
 soon become my Lady Ruthven ! and 
 what more silly than to feel miserable at 
 being made a countess ? " 
 
 "My child my child! Your voice 
 is strange ! You are not in your right 
 senses ! " 
 
 " Why not, mamma ? " 
 
 "Because I know your secret ! that 
 you look with horror upon this mar 
 riage ! " 
 
 Honoria slowly and coldly shook her 
 head. 
 
 "With horror?" she said; " I look 
 with Jiorror upon my approaching mar 
 riage? Is such a thing conceivable, 
 mamma? Would my father, who says 
 that he loves me dearly, compel me to 
 marry thus against my will? Could he 
 possibly make his poor child so wretch 
 ed ? Could you my own mother ! " 
 
 Honoria suddenly stopped. Lady 
 Brand had covered her face with both 
 hands, and burst into tears. For a mo 
 ment- the girl looked at her in silence, 
 and without moving. Then suddenly 
 she ran to her, broke into a wild flood 
 
THE APPOINTMENT. 
 
 125 
 
 of weeping, and, throwing her arms 
 around her mother s neck, cried : 
 
 U O mamma! mamma! do not sob 
 so ! Twill break my poor heart ! I was 
 undutiful, unfeeling, to taunt you when 
 tis not your fault ! Forgive me, mam 
 ma ! no, I am not in my right senses 
 I am wretched out of my head almost. 
 This marriage is killing me, for I am 
 going to perjure myself before God and 
 man; but I will strive to bear all, and 
 not make you more unhappy, mamma ! 
 Forgive me ! forget my wicked words 
 I love you so dearly ! " 
 
 Clinging to Lady Brand, she buried 
 her face in her mother s bosom, and 
 sobbed until her agitated heart grew 
 calmer. Tears had come to her at last, 
 as a blessed relief the burst of the tem 
 pest relieved her overcharged brain 
 and her mother saw, with delight, that 
 the dull and apathetic look had disap 
 peared from her eyes. Honoria was 
 quite hopeless, but calm and resigned. 
 
 "There, there, mamma," she said, 
 pressing her lips to her mother s cheek, 
 " do not remember my wild, sinful words, 
 and forget that I rebelled against God, 
 and taunted you, when I ought to love 
 and obey you, and treat you with re 
 spect. I am very unhappy, mamma, but 
 I will try not to wound you again. 
 You see I am quite calm now, and kiss 
 me, mamma I love you very, very dear 
 ly, and soon shall see you no more." 
 
 The head sank, and Honoria uttered 
 a single sob. It was the last cry of her 
 despair. Her mother could only whis 
 per as she held her close : 
 
 " God bless and keep my child, and 
 give us both strength to bear this woe! 
 for I know all, my daughter I know, 
 and am powerless as yourself. Come, 
 now dry your eyes, and summon all 
 your courage, for the hour is near. Let 
 me arrange your disordered hair; the 
 idle crowd must not make their com 
 ments." 
 
 "Do not fear me," said the young 
 
 girl with sudden calmness and stateli- 
 ness. " I know what my blood requires 
 of me, and will not fail. And now will 
 you do me a last favor, mamma? Leave 
 me to myself for a few moments. I 
 would be alone have no fear, mamma ; 
 and do not ask me why." 
 
 Lady Brand looked intently at her 
 daughter, and said : 
 
 " Leave you alone ? " 
 
 The girl smiled sadly. 
 
 "You fear Til do myself some mis 
 chief, perchance ! JSTo, indeed ! There 
 need be no fear of that, mamma. I shall 
 die of this marriage ; but not now ! Pray 
 grant my request." 
 
 Lady Brand rose. 
 
 " I will go, then, ray child ; but re 
 member that your presence will soon be 
 required." 
 
 With which words, she left the apart 
 ment. 
 
 Honoria listened to the light, retreat 
 ing steps ; went quickly to the door ; 
 turned the key without noise in the pon 
 derous old-fashioned lock; and then, 
 hastening to a casket, unlocked it, took 
 out a paper, and read it hurriedly by 
 the lights on her toilet-table. 
 
 The paper was a note, which a ser 
 vant had brought on the day before, and 
 ran as follows : 
 
 "I am about to leave Virginia for 
 ever ; but, before I go, I must see you 
 once more, or die of despair. I cannot 
 enter Rivanna, as one of the wedding- 
 guests, and witness your marriage. That 
 would kill me, or drive me to some act 
 of madness which would but make you 
 still more unhappy. Devise some other 
 means at the hour and spot you fix, I 
 will be present. 
 
 " These are calm words, are they not, 
 for a man whose heart is breaking ? But 
 the hour to weep and rave is past, and I 
 have no tears. 
 
 " Farewell until we meet. 
 
 "EDMUND INNIS." 
 
126 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 In reply to this note, Honoria had 
 written three lines, intrusting them to 
 the servant, who saw no other member 
 of the family, and left Rivanna as soon 
 as he had received the reply : 
 
 u I cannot escape from the company 
 until to-morrovv night my wedding- 
 niglit. Come, then, to the oak-tree 
 where that day O me ! 
 
 "HONORIA." 
 
 Why had she written that note, for 
 getting the cold, the snow, the almost 
 utter impossibility of keeping the ap 
 pointment? She knew not; she only 
 felt that she must see him once more, or 
 die. She now hastily read the note of 
 Innis again, and thrust it into her bosom. 
 Then she sat down, clinched her hands 
 together, and gazed into the fire. 
 
 "I will go! nothing shall fright 
 me ! Edmund, Edmund ! " 
 
 Suddenly steps were heard in the 
 passage, and a hand was laid upon the 
 knob. Honoria calmly opened the door. 
 Her sister had come to summon her. 
 . " I am ready," she said. 
 
 LIY. 
 
 THE MARRIAGE. 
 
 THE moment had come for the per 
 formance of the marriage - ceremony. 
 The crowd, filling the drawing-rooms, 
 the hall, every foot of space, all at once 
 ceased their uproar. A deep silence fol 
 lowed ; and, in the midst of this silence, 
 the rustle of satin trains was heard at 
 the head of the staircase, like a breeze 
 of summer rustling the long blades of 
 corn. An instant afterward the impos 
 ing bridal party descended slowly, the 
 bridesmaids leaning upon the arms of 
 their groomsmen, the ample trains 
 sweeping the polished oak of the stair 
 case. 
 
 The bride and groom came last. 
 
 Honoria was very pale, but quite 
 calm, and did not seem to require the 
 arm of Lord Ruthven to support her, as 
 she scarcely touched it with one of her 
 little, white, gloved hands. She was su 
 perbly dressed, and wore a profusion of 
 lace, hereditary in the family, with not 
 a few jewels of great value. Her air 
 was collected, and exhibited no emotion 
 whatever. Lord Ruthven, on the con 
 trary, evidently labored under very con 
 siderable agitation. He was paler even 
 than the bride, and the smile which he 
 endeavored to assume was so plainly 
 forced that it was painful. Once, while 
 descending the staircase, he turned his 
 head quickly, and glanced with a singu 
 lar expression over his right shoulder a 
 circumstance which was afterward spo 
 ken of, and commented upon in various 
 ways. 
 
 The bridal train entered the large 
 drawing-room, where the reverend par 
 son of the parish was standing in his 
 black gown ; and the bridesmaids and 
 groomsmen, separating, and ranging 
 themselves in two opposing lines, left an 
 avenue open for the bride and groom, 
 who slowly advanced and stood before 
 the clergyman. 
 
 Honoria retained her surprising calm 
 nessa calmness far exceeding that of 
 her companion and the ceremony pro 
 ceeded, Colonel Brand giving away the 
 bride. 
 
 At the injunction of the clergyman, 
 that, if any one knew just cause why the 
 ceremony should not take place, they 
 should speak then, or forever after hold 
 their peace, it was observed that Honoria 
 half turned her head with a sudden look 
 of fright, apparently dreading or expect 
 ing some interruption. None, however, 
 took place ; Honoria duly bowed her 
 head, murmuring inaudibly the responses, 
 and a prayer ended the ceremony. 
 
 Honoria Brand had become the Count 
 ess of Ruthven. 
 
 Then commenced the joyous uproar 
 
THE MARRIAGE. 
 
 127 
 
 customary in Virginia upon wedding oc 
 casions. The young lady found her cold, 
 pale lips saluted by her friends, and this 
 evidence of regard was bestowed, even 
 upon the bridesmaids, by all with the 
 slightest claim, from consanguinity, to 
 that privilege. Lord Ruthven received 
 his share of the congratulations of the 
 company the low bows and impressive 
 hand-shakings of the portly old nabobs, 
 and the good wishes of the dames their 
 partners with profound courtesy and 
 elaborate smiles. But it was plain that 
 these smiles were forced. When left for 
 a moment to himself, his countenance 
 assumed a singular expression of haunt 
 ing gloom ; and twice he was observed 
 to cast the strange, furtive glance over 
 his right shoulder which had already at 
 tracted the attention of the guests. 
 
 As the night drew on, and the hour 
 of supper approached, Honoria was seen 
 to look more than once toward the tall 
 clock in the hall, and to glance sidewise 
 through one of the great windows tow 
 ard the lawn without. Her pale cheek 
 was slightly tinged with blood, and the 
 eyes, so apathetic throughout the cere 
 mony, betrayed concealed agitation. At 
 last her lips were compressed in a man 
 ner which seemed to indicate that she 
 had formed some resolution ; and, turn 
 ing to her mother, who was standing 
 near, she said : 
 
 " Mamma, I am somewhat tired from 
 standing too long. Make my excuses to 
 any one who inquires for me ; I will re 
 tire for a little while, but return soon." 
 
 "Very well, my dear," said Lady 
 Brand, who was not unwilling that the 
 young lady should rest for a short time 
 from her fatigue; " but do not stay long. 
 Supper will be ready in half an hour." 
 
 " Yes, mamma, I will be ready." 
 
 And smiling upon the company, who 
 made way for her, admiring as they did 
 so her now rosy cheeks, Honoria went 
 np the broad staircase to her chamber, in 
 which she disappeared. 
 
 The uproar in the great drawing- 
 room had now become deafening; and 
 perhaps this circumstance was, in no 
 slight degree, to be attributed to the fre 
 quent visits of a large number of the 
 guests to a small room in rear of the 
 large hall, where stood, on a centre-ta 
 ble, an enormous punch-bowl, filled with 
 arrack-punch, flanked by a mighty array 
 of bottles containing mellow old Jamaica 
 rum, brandies, and the richest vintages of 
 sherry and canary. A huge silver ladle 
 reposed in the punch-bowl, or, rather, 
 was not permitted to do so for a moment 
 by the festive visitors, holding out im 
 patient tumblers ; and two attentive 
 servants, silent, rapid in their move 
 ments, and profoundly deferential, opened 
 incessantly the wine bottles, and hand 
 ed glasses to the old planters, who sipped 
 in a stately way, and loomed above 
 the more youthful company, tho red 
 and important old faces rising over 
 masses of white neck-cloth and ruffles. 
 In this room the crowd was continuous, 
 the noise great; when the visitors re 
 turned to the drawing-room they smiled 
 elaborately, and were communicative in 
 the highest degree upon any and every 
 subject. 
 
 At last the old major-domo opened 
 the door of the dining-room a few inches, 
 and respectfully looked at Lady Brand, 
 to signify that supper was ready. Lady 
 Brand looked around for Honoria, but 
 did not see her; and, saying to Lord 
 Ruthven, as she passed him, " Supper is 
 about to be announced, my lord," she 
 went into the dining-room, closing the 
 door. 
 
 Ruthven seemed to greet the an 
 nouncement that supper was near that 
 is to say, that the trying evening was 
 coming to an end with deep satisfac 
 tion ; and looked around for Honoria, to 
 whom etiquette required that he should 
 give his arm. She was nowhere to be 
 seen ; and, thinking that she might have 
 gone out into the hall, from the great 
 
128 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 heat of the immense fire in the drawing- 
 room, went thither to find her. But Ho- 
 noria was not in the hall. 
 
 A maid was passing at the moment, 
 and, supposing that ITonoria was in her 
 chamber, Lord Ruthven directed the 
 maid to go thither, and inform her mis 
 tress that the company was about to go 
 in to supper. 
 
 The maid hastened to obey, Lord 
 Ruthven waiting her in "the hall ; but in 
 a few minutes she returned with the in 
 formation that the young lady was not 
 in her chamber. 
 
 " Not in her chamber ? " exclaimed 
 Lord Ruthven ; " -where, then, can she 
 be?" 
 
 The great front-door suddenly opened 
 behind him as he spoke, and a person, 
 who came in, heard the words. Lord 
 Ruthven felt a hand laid upon his arm, 
 and a low voice whispered in his ear : 
 
 "Hush, my lord! and come with 
 me!" 
 
 LY. 
 
 THE STEPS 
 
 THE SNOW. 
 
 THE voice was that of Fergus. Ruth 
 ven turned suddenly, and gazed at the 
 old Highlander with undisguised aston 
 ishment and vague disquiet-; and the 
 expresssion of the ancient servitor s 
 countenance was not calculated to dis 
 pel his emotion. The weather-beaten 
 face was flushed, and the eyes of Fergus 
 sparkled with wrath. His lips were 
 compressed like iron, and the hand 
 which he had laid upon his master s arm 
 was so heavy and unceremonious so in 
 dicative of forgetfulness of every form 
 of respect that Lord Ruthven felt his 
 heart throb, his pulse give a great leap. 
 
 " What is it ? " he said, grasping the 
 Highlander suddenly by the arm. 
 
 " Hist 1 my lord make no noise ! " 
 
 " Your meaning? You are no child ! " 
 exclaimed Ruthven; "you must have 
 good reason for this abrupt address ! " 
 
 "I have; -of that yon shall judge! 
 Follow me, my lord." 
 
 " Go on ! " said Lord Ruthven. 
 
 Fergus glided through the door ; Ruth 
 ven followed, and it closed behind them. 
 They had passed, in three steps, into an 
 other world, as it were. The sepulchral 
 glare of the snow, bathed in icy moon 
 light, and the freezing wind, which cut 
 like a sharp steel blade through the no 
 bleman s thin silk coat, made the con 
 trast between the warm apartments with 
 in and the frozen expanse without as 
 striking as it was abrupt. 
 
 But Ruthven did not heed it for an 
 instant. A vague suspicion fired his 
 frame, and sent the blood boiling to his 
 cheeks. 
 
 " Well ! " he said to Fergus. 
 
 " Follow me, my lord ! " 
 
 "Your object?" 
 
 " To show you something come ? " 
 - Fergus went rapidly, as he spoke, 
 down the broad steps; turned and fol 
 lowed the facade of the mansion ; came 
 in sight of a side-door, opening on the 
 lawn, and, looking round, exclaimed : 
 
 " Your lordship s married a bonny 
 bride ! " 
 
 " What do you mean, I say ! Speak 1 " 
 cried Lord Ruthven, imperiously. 
 
 " That will I, speedily, my lord. 
 Where is the countess ? " 
 
 " I know not ! " 
 
 " I know." 
 
 " Where ? Your meaning, Fergus ? 
 Something in your words your 
 voice ! " 
 
 "Yes, yes your lordship is right. 
 I have lost my coolness, even my re 
 spect ; and yet, I must go further I 
 must exact a promise from your lord 
 ship ! " 
 
 "A promise! The meaning of all 
 this ? Speak if you would have me re 
 tain my senses ! " 
 
 "Promise that you will not slay my 
 lady." 
 
 " Slay ! you are mad ! " 
 
THE LAST MEETING. 
 
 129 
 
 "I am in my senses promise, my 
 lord ! " 
 
 "I promise nothing, and I command 
 you to explain your words ! Speak ! or, 
 by Heaven. I ll tear your meaning out of 
 your very heart ! " 
 
 And Rnthven seized the old servant 
 by the throat, shaking him with such 
 violence that he seemed about to strangle 
 him. 
 
 Fergus made no remonstrance what 
 ever. He simply gasped for breath, and 
 Ruthven released his grasp. 
 
 " I obey your lordship, then," said 
 Fergus. " I ve done my duty at least." 
 
 " Where is Lady Ruthven ? " 
 
 Fergus started down, and pointed to 
 the snow. 
 
 u Look, my lord ! " he said. 
 
 Ruthven looked, and saw the imprint 
 of a small delicate slipper in the snow. 
 
 " There is another ! " said Fergus, in 
 a low tone, "and another still. The 
 person came out of that side-door; it 
 has not been long since, you see, my 
 lord, as the wind has not filled the 
 tracks ; and you can tell in which direc 
 tion the person went. There are the 
 steps ! " 
 
 His master no longer listened. With 
 a burning cheek, and a heart which 
 throbbed almost to bursting, Kuthven 
 followed the delicate footsteps down the 
 hill, the moonlight enabling him to do so 
 without difficulty. Stooping and hasten 
 ing onward, he resembled some wild ani 
 mal crouching, and ready to spring upon 
 his prey. Suddenly a cloud passed over 
 the moon, and the dull glare of the snow 
 barely afforded him the means of tracing 
 the steps. It was sufficient, however, 
 and Ruthven rapidly descended the slope, 
 leaving the great gate far on his left. 
 All at once a deep shadow fell upon the 
 marks in the snow. He looked up and 
 saw a great oak, distant twenty or thirty 
 paces. 
 
 At the same moment, the sound of 
 voices was heard ; and a voice which he 
 
 9 
 
 recognized as that of Honoria mur 
 mured : 
 
 " I will love you in life and death ! " 
 Ruthven s burning glance followed 
 the direction of the sound, penetrated 
 the shadow, and saw Honoria clasped in 
 the arms of Edmund Innis. 
 
 LYI. 
 
 THE LAST MEETING. 
 
 had kept her appointment. 
 
 Ascending the staircase rapidly, after 
 speaking to Lady Brand, she had reached 
 her chamber, wrapped a cloak around 
 her, and descending by a flight of stairs 
 in the rear of the hall that which she 
 had used on the night of the dumb-cake 
 ceremony had opened the side-door, 
 gone forth into the freezing night, and 
 hastened down the hill toward the great 
 oak under which Innis awaited her. 
 
 Flying, affrighted and trembling, over 
 the snow which, at any other time, would 
 have made her feet in thin satin slippers 
 ache with cold, she had reached the tree, 
 had seen the figure of Innis hasten toward 
 her; and had fallen, weak, overwhelmed, 
 and powerless to bear up under her emo 
 tion, into the outstretched arms of her 
 lover. 
 
 Then followed one of those scenes 
 which the pen cannot describe, and the 
 imagination only can form any concep 
 tion of. Forgetting all the world besides 
 
 her past, her present, and her future 
 
 remembering only that the human be 
 ing whom she loved with such unspeak 
 able tenderness was before her ; and 
 obeying the resistless impulse driving 
 her, like a weary, storm-lost dove, into 
 his sheltering arms, she clung closely to 
 him, clasped him wildly to her bosom, 
 and exhausted on him every term of en 
 dearment, in one passionate outburst, 
 which she made no effort to control. 
 
 And Innis, broken-hearted and de 
 spairing, could only reply in broken 
 
130 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 words. His great woe came upon him 
 at this last conclusive moment, with an 
 intenser bitterness than ever before. 
 The sense of what he had lost sent a 
 chill to his very heart, and a cruel, mad 
 despair was mingled with the delicious 
 happiness of the girl s caresses. 
 
 For many moments they thus re 
 mained, locked in each other s arms, 
 murmuring words of endearment, and 
 striving to control their passionate agi 
 tation. Innis was the first to succeed in 
 this, and, choking down violently a groan 
 which had risen to his pale lips, he said 
 in a trembling voice : 
 
 " I thank you for this last meeting, 
 my own darling. I may call you so now 
 tis the last time ; and now you must 
 go back ; you must not stay here longer 
 in this bitter cold ! I felt as though I 
 should have died without these few last 
 words with you these kisses you have 
 given me and now I can say farewell ! " 
 
 He tried to unclasp the arms of the 
 girl, but she resisted. 
 
 " Oh, no ! no ! " she exclaimed, in a 
 voice interrupted by sobs, " we need not 
 part so soon! Why must we part? " 
 
 " They will miss you, and wonder at 
 your absence; and this bitter night! 
 Your poor, dear little feet in their thin 
 slippers! they will freeze! Yes, you 
 must go, my darling ; we must part now. 
 I am calmer than I was ; almost happy, 
 dear. My heart was black with evil 
 thoughts, with hatred, and all bitterness. 
 I doubted God, and man, and woman. 
 I was desperate, and meditated desperate 
 things ; but I have seen your dear, good 
 face, my own Honoria ; I have heard 
 your voice, and I think I can bear my 
 misery. Farewell, now you must go; 
 but tell me once more that you will not 
 forget your poor cousin, however far 
 away from you I may be ; that you will 
 pray for me, and try not to grieve over 
 what might have been ! Promise this, 
 Honoria my love my lost love and 
 I shall be almost happy ! " 
 
 It was in reply to these words that 
 Honoria, raising her head from his bos 
 om, and letting it fall back upon his 
 shoulder, had uttered in a murmur the 
 words 
 
 "I will love you in life and death! " 
 
 As the words escaped from her lips, 
 the moon emerged from the black cloud 
 which had concealed it, and Innis heard 
 the sound of footsteps. He raised his 
 head quickly, looked in the direction of 
 the sound, and Honoria s eyes turned 
 toward the same quarter. 
 
 Lord Euthven and Fergus were with 
 in a few paces of her, easily recognized 
 by the moonlight ; and with a low cry 
 she fell back in the arms of Innis, and 
 fainted upon his breast. 
 
 LVIL 
 
 THE ADVERSAEIES. 
 
 EUTHVEN did not rush upon Innis, or, 
 indeed, betray any evidence whatever of 
 violent emotion. A sudden and strange 
 calmness seemed to have succeeded his 
 wild rage. He had apparently reached 
 that stage when men grow pale instead 
 of red, cold instead of violent ; and when 
 the mind, discarding all mere flurry and 
 passion, decides coolly and in silence 
 upon the course to be pursued. 
 
 The deadly glance of the young no 
 bleman s dark eyes, and the ashy pallor 
 of his lips, alone indicated the depth of 
 his wrath ; his voice, when he spoke, 
 was firm and measured. 
 
 "It is quite unnecessary to hold me 
 back," he said to Fergus, who, knowing 
 the terrible strength of his master s pas 
 sions when they were once aroused, had 
 seized his arm to restrain him from ad 
 vancing farther. " I do not purpose do 
 ing any thing rash. Remove your hand 
 from my arm, and remain where you 
 now are, until you receive further orders 
 from me." 
 
 Fergus released the grasp on his mas- 
 
THE ADVERSARIES. 
 
 131 
 
 ter s arm, and Ruthven advanced slowlj 
 and deliberately until he closely confront 
 ed Honoria and Innis. The latter had 
 quickly regained his coolness, and re 
 turned Ruthven s fixed and icy glance 
 with a look of the same description. 
 
 "I will relieve you of Lady Rutbven, 
 sir," said the young nobleman ; " as the 
 night is unpleasantly cold, and in so thin 
 a dress, she might suffer inconvenience 
 from further exposure. I shall escort 
 her ladyship to the house, and, as it will 
 be necessary to have a brief discussion 
 with you afterward, sir, shall beg you 
 to await my return without moving 
 from this place. May I count upon you, 
 sir?" 
 
 " You may, my lord ! " returned In 
 nis, in an ardent tone. There was no 
 doubt of the intention of Ruthven. His 
 eye said all ; and Innis greeted the 
 thought of mortal combat with his suc 
 cessful rival with a thrill of fierce satis 
 faction. 
 
 As he spoke, Honoria opened her 
 eyes, and returned to consciousness. Her 
 glance met the cold eyes of Ruthven 
 fixed upon her ; she understood all ; and 
 suddenly exclaimed, in a tone of agony : 
 " Oh, I am innocent of intended 
 wrong ! It was but for a moment one 
 last meeting I had to bid him good-by ! 
 Edmund! my lord !" 
 
 "Enough, madam!" said Ruthven, 
 abruptly, a species of contortion passing 
 over his dark face. " With your permis 
 sion we will not discuss this subject fur 
 ther at present ! " 
 
 He advanced, as he spoke, took the 
 young lady s hand, placed it upon his 
 arm, and, exchanging with Innis a mean 
 ing glance, reconducted Honoria toward 
 the house, followed by Fergus. No 
 words were exchanged between the 
 bridegroom and bride upon the way. 
 Honoria was sobbing from Ruthven s 
 lips no sound issued. 
 
 Following the steps in the snow, they 
 reached the side-door, through which 
 
 Honoria had gained the lawn. Here 
 Ruthven stopped, and said : 
 
 "As you doubtless desire to observe 
 the proprieties, and avoid all scandal, 
 madam, it will be best to enter by this 
 door and gain your chamber. Supper is 
 ready to be announced; and I will at 
 tend you at the foot of the great stair 
 case." 
 
 Honoria bowed her head, and, reply 
 ing only with a low sob, entered the side- 
 door, and closed it behind her. Ruthven 
 then went around to the front of the 
 house, ascended the broad steps, care 
 fully removed from his boots all traces 
 of snow, and, opening the great door, 
 entered. His entrance did not attract 
 attention, and he had reached the thresh- 
 hold of the drawing-room, when he en 
 countered Colonel Brand. 
 
 "We were looking for you, my lord, 
 as supper is ready; and, strangely 
 enough, Lady Ruthven also is not to be 
 found." 
 
 " She has retired to her chamber, in 
 all probability, sir." 
 
 "I think not." 
 
 And Colonel Brand turned to look 
 for Lady Brand to ask. Time was thus 
 afforded the young lady to reach her 
 chamber, divest herself of her* cloak, sup 
 press her agitation, and descend. Lord 
 Ruthven met her at the foot of the stair 
 case, as he had promised, offered his arm, 
 with a profound inclination ; and, supper 
 being announced at the same moment, 
 the bridal party, followed by the guests, 
 entered the great dining - room. The 
 apartment was one blaze of lights, and 
 this brilliant flood fell upon a table ex 
 tending nearly the whole length of the 
 room, and groaning with its burden of 
 substantials and delicacies of every im 
 aginable description. Meats, game, con 
 fections each in a do/en varieties, 
 and a dozen methods of serving pyra 
 mids of cake, and exotic fruits, ices, 
 jellies, and, on a side-table, coffee, tea, 
 " strong- waters," the richest wines 
 
132 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 such formed a portion, and only a por 
 tion, of the entertainment offered by 
 Colonel and Lady Brand to their guests. 
 
 The crowd flocked in, noisy, joyous, 
 full of laughter ; and few paid any atten 
 tion to the bride and groom. Those who 
 did so, however, afterward spoke of Lord 
 Rutkven s courtly attention to his bride. 
 He waited upon her most assiduously; 
 and, but for a strange glitter of the eyes, 
 was the model of an overjoyed bride 
 groom. That metallic glitter was not in 
 viting, it is true, and was afterward re 
 membered ; but, for the moment, all was 
 joy and uproar. 
 
 One person only was not so easily de 
 ceived. With eyes sharpened by tender 
 ness for her daughter, Lady Brand saw 
 the evidences of deep, suppressed emo 
 tion ; and, knowing that Honoria had not 
 been in her chamber ten minutes before 
 her reappearance, sought an opportunity 
 now to question her, and hear a solution 
 of the mystery. This design of Lady 
 Brand seemed, however, to be penetrated 
 by Lord Ruthven, who persistently re 
 mained by Honoria, or returned instantly 
 if forced to leave her ; and when the fond 
 mother, weary of this struggle of wits, 
 addressed a plain question to the young 
 lady, Ruthven replied, quickly, with a 
 singular smile : 
 
 " No, madam ! I beg you will not in 
 sist upon your question. Your daughter 
 is Lady Ruthven now, and is entitled to 
 have her own secrets ! " 
 
 Lady Brand looked earnestly at the 
 speaker, but his face was impenetrable. 
 
 " Well, my lord," she said, gloomily, 
 " tis for you to decide ; but you will let 
 me say that the augury is not happy 
 when the bride begins by having secrets 
 from her own mother." 
 
 Ruthven did not reply, and soon af 
 terward the company began to move 
 back toward the drawing-roorn, whither 
 the bride and bridegroom led the way 
 Honoria pale and faint Ruthven cold, 
 firm, and impassive. 
 
 Lord Ruthven led his bride to a seat 
 near the fire, and then made her a low 
 bow. With her permission, he said he 
 would return to the supper-room ; and, 
 passing through the crowd, with a formal 
 smile on his lips, he reached the hall. 
 He did not go thence, however, to the 
 supper-room, but to his chamber, where 
 Fergus was seated, his elbows on his 
 knees, his face sunk in his hands. 
 
 "Come, quick! the swords!" said 
 Ruthven. " I have worn none to-night ; 
 but there are two of the same length ! " 
 
 Fergus faltered out : 
 
 " Your lordship will not ! Think! 
 after all, twas but ! " 
 
 "Silence! obey the order I give 
 you ! The dress-swords, and my cloak ! " 
 
 Dominated by the imperious voice 
 and flaming eyes, Fergus drew from one 
 of the trunks, with a trembling hand, 
 two dress-swords, which Ruthven seized. 
 The latter then threw a cloak around his 
 shoulders, concealed the swords beneath 
 it, and, saying imperiously to Fergus 
 " Remain here ; I command you ! " went 
 hastily out of the room. He had taken 
 notice of the position of the side-door, 
 through which Honoria had reentered. 
 This he now gained by the back stair 
 case, for the moment quite deserted, 
 opened the door, passed through, closed 
 it behind him, and went rapidly down 
 the hill toward the oak. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 THE COMBAT. 
 
 INNIS had not stirred from the spot. 
 
 What thoughts had passed through 
 the mind of the despairing young man, 
 as he waited in the freezing cold, with 
 Honoria s innocent kisses yet warm upon 
 his lips, and a bloody combat with her 
 husband imminent ? Despair is a strange 
 stimulant, and Innis had little hope left 
 him in the world. Burnt up by harsh 
 and gloomy emotion seeing nothing in 
 
1 
 
 a 
 c 
 
 n 
 
THE COMBAT. 
 
 133 
 
 the future for him but hopeless misery 
 he greeted almost with joy the coming 
 struggle, which would probably end his 
 life and his woes together. That such a 
 struggle was near he had no doubt what 
 ever a single combat with swords, 
 doubtless ; and as, like all young gentle 
 men at that time, he had been taught 
 the use of the rapier, there would be no 
 obstacle. 
 
 Suddenly Ruthven s figure appeared 
 in the moonlight. He almost rushed tow 
 ard Innis, reached him, and exclaimed, 
 in a hollow tone : 
 
 " It is well, sir ! You keep your word 
 at least ! You will not add cowardice to 
 treachery ! " 
 
 " Treachery, sir ! " cried Tnnis 
 "cowardice! Beware, sir! By Heav 
 en, if you insult me thus, I ll throw my 
 self, weaponless as I am, upon you, and 
 tear you to pieces ! " 
 
 Ruthven threw back his cloak. 
 "Here are two swords!" he said, 
 " of equal length and good temper. You 
 are not weaponless, sir, since one is for 
 you ! " 
 
 And he hurled it at Innis s feet in 
 the snow, his eyes burning with lurid 
 fire. 
 
 The young man stooped quickly, and 
 caught it by the hilt. 
 
 " Thanks ! " he said ; " this combat 
 need not be delayed, then." 
 
 "No! here and now ! Here, where " 
 And, with an expression of deadly 
 menace, Lord Ruthven took a step, 
 sword in hand, toward his enemy. 
 
 "A moment, my lord! there is time 
 enougli ! " said Innis, in a cold and 
 gloomy tone. " As one or both of us 
 will probably be dead in an hour from 
 this time, a few words are necessary." 
 " I want none ! Defend yourself! " 
 The sharp point glittered in front of 
 the young man s breast ; but he remained 
 perfectly motionless. 
 
 " I say that these words are neces 
 sary," he replied, in the same gloomy 
 
 tone. " What you mean by treachery I 
 am unable to understand, sir ! We were 
 mere acquaintances I never professed 
 to be your bosom friend ; and if there 
 be wrong done, who is guilty of that 
 wrong?" 
 
 " Enough ! " 
 
 " You shall hear me ! and, as I may 
 be driven to rage, I ll speak first of what 
 is most important," said Innis. " You 
 are so ignorant of the person who is now 
 Lady Ruthven, that you madly dream 
 that she could be guilty of an impure ac 
 tion ! That is the madness of jealousy, 
 and suspicion, sir naught else ! Honoria 
 is as pure as that snow ; as the moon 
 above you I Her sole fault, if it be a 
 fault, has been her imprudence in grant 
 ing me, to-night, at my urgent request, 
 a few moments to say farewell, before 
 we parted forever. I am about to leave 
 Virginia I loved her you know that 
 I besought her to see me for an instant 
 before I went ; she was here for a little 
 space, thus, at my own solicitation ; and 
 had you not come, the young lady and 
 myself would have parted 
 
 " With a last embrace ! with kisses ! 
 with caresses! with love in life and 
 death ! Your sword, sir ! This shall 
 end ! " 
 
 "A single moment more, sir," Innis 
 replied, with the same immovable cold 
 ness, but a bitterness in his tone. " Your 
 lordship is the lucky one, and can afford 
 to listen an instant, if only to prevent 
 misunderstanding when our ghosts meet 
 in another world ! Well, before she met 
 you. Lady Ruthven was engaged to be 
 married to me. You did not know that. f . 
 Tis true, sir ; and the circumstance was 
 not so astonishing. We were cousins, 
 had been playmates all our lives he-re at 
 Rivanna; and before she went to Wil- 
 liamsburfi, where she first saw you, plight 
 ed her faith to me here under tin* very 
 oak-tree, where she came to bid me fare 
 well to-night. That is a bitter memory 
 to the poor, unhappy man who spenks to 
 
104 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 you must it not be, sir ? Well, I soon 
 saw that Honoria was not to choose her 
 mate. You paid your adTiresses, and I 
 asked for her hand. Her father refused 
 me I was very poor ; and accepted you. 
 Did the young lady ? And, in spite of 
 all, I was going away, now after these 
 few words of farewell. 
 
 " That is the history of three per 
 sons, sir one happy, the other two mis 
 erable. As to this meeting, I repeat, sir, 
 that it was my fault, and meant nothing. 
 You speak of kisses in Virginia, young 
 ladies kiss kinsmen. I was this one s 
 she was innocent as an angel do not 
 give the devil that triumph of believing 
 Honoria Brand other than purity itself! 
 And now I ve done, my lord. If there 
 be fault in any one, the fault is mine. 
 Spend your wrath on me ; for that wrath 
 I care nothing, as I care nothing for my 
 life. Just now, when you used the word 
 treachery, I wished to kill you. Now, 
 you may kill me, if you choose, sir my 
 life is a matter of indifference to me, I 
 am too miserable ; but I charge you, on 
 your honor as a gentleman, to absolve 
 my cousin ! " 
 
 " Have you done, sir? " 
 
 The brief, stern words rang out sud 
 denly, leaving no doubt of Ruthven s 
 intention. His resolve was unshaken. 
 Hatred, jealousy, blood-thirstiness all 
 this was written in his eyes. 
 
 " Your lordship is bent on killing me, 
 then? " said Innis, as coldly as before. 
 
 Lord Ruthven s reply was to rush 
 upon his adversary, and to lunge straight 
 at his heart. Innis parried the blow; 
 and a brief combat followed bitter, des 
 perate, breast to breast. Suddenly In- 
 nis s sword snapped, and the foes grap 
 pled and fell Lord Euthven beneath 
 his adversary. They were body to body, 
 face upon face, panting and bloody. Then 
 Innis uttered a low cry, his hold relaxed, 
 and he fell forward, a torrent of blood 
 gushing from his bosom. 
 
 Ruthven, who had retained his clutch 
 
 of his sword, had shortened it quickly, 
 and driven the point by main force into 
 his adversary s breast. 
 
 He rose, breathing heavily, and 
 looked at the body lying on the bloody 
 snow. 
 
 All movement had ceased. 
 
 " So much is done," said the noble 
 man in a low, hollow voice; "now let 
 me go back to my bonny bride ! " 
 
 His lip, writhed as he spoke, and the 
 strange wild glitter of the eye was horri 
 ble. On this face, resembling a mask of 
 Hate, was written a terrible resolution. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 THE BEIDAL CHAMBEE. 
 
 IT was now eleven o clock, as ah 1 
 could see by the minute-hand of the 
 great ghostly clock ticking in the hall, 
 and the wedding-guests began to take 
 their departure with many congratula 
 tions, addressed to Lord Ruthven and 
 his bride, who stood beside colonel and 
 Lady Brand in the middle of the draw 
 ing-room. 
 
 Lord Ruthven was fearfully pale, and 
 the strange glitter of his eyes had not 
 disappeared. He had gained his cham 
 ber by the door in the rear, divested him 
 self of his cloak, and descended just as 
 Dr. Vandyke disappeared through a door 
 leading to Meta s chamber, whither he 
 had been, summoned hastily by intelli 
 gence that the child had been taken sud 
 denly ill. 
 
 A terrible smile passed across Ruth 
 ven s pale lips, as the physician disap 
 peared, and he hastened to join the 
 company. The leave - taking was gone 
 through with, and the guests entered 
 their coaches awaiting them in front of 
 the portico. A quarter of an hour after 
 ward the last chariot had rolled away 
 from the door; the members of the 
 household retired; and the great man 
 sion, lately so noisy and brilliant, was 
 
THE BRIDAL CHAMBER. 
 
 135 
 
 as still and dark as a haunted house, 
 from which all human occupants have 
 fled, leaving it to the mysterious tenants 
 of the darkness. 
 
 In this profound and almost painful 
 silence, no sound was heard but the sub 
 dued murmur of the river beyond the 
 pine-clad hill, and the measured ticking 
 of tbe tall clock in the hall; no light 
 was visible but the spectral gleam of the 
 setting moon, which, passing through a 
 narrow window in front of the great 
 door, lit up the white dial-plate of the 
 clock, making it resemble a ghost. 
 
 Slowly the "tick tick," resounded 
 with a dull, monotonous sound, through 
 the deserted hall slowly the black hand 
 moved over the white face, second after 
 second, minute after minute. 
 
 "Tick, tick! tick, tick!" 
 
 It was ten minutes of midnight now. 
 
 The hand crawled slowly, the monot 
 onous sound went on, never faster, never 
 slower, like a metallic fate, careless of 
 what was near at hand. 
 
 " Tick, tick ! tick ! tick ! " 
 
 It was five minutes of midnight now 
 four minutes three minutes 
 
 The last rays of the moon, dim, mys 
 terious, bloody, were on the ghostly 
 face : the black hand was on the stroke 
 of midnight, when a door opened vio 
 lently in the direction of Meta s chamber, 
 and Dr. Vandyke rushed into the vacant 
 hall. 
 
 At the same instant, a sudden and ter 
 rible scream issued from the chamber of 
 Lady Ruthven. 
 
 The clock struck midnight. As the 
 hammer fell, the door of the bride s 
 chamber opened violently, a dark figure 
 rushed down the staircase nearly over 
 turning the physician, who vaioly at 
 tempted to grapple with and arrest it 
 the great door opened and closed with a 
 clash; and past the window of the bridal 
 chamber past the delicate footprints in 
 the snow past the oak where a dusky 
 object was stiffening in the freezing 
 
 winter night past tree and rock, lit up 
 by the bloody light of the sinking moon 
 the dark figure, followed headlong now 
 by another figure, disappeared in the 
 gloomy night. 
 
 The second figure was that of Fergus, 
 who, issuing forth from the side-door of 
 the mansion, had hastened with the 
 speed of a deer upon the track of his 
 master. 
 
 The fearful scream from Lady Ruth- 
 ven s chamber had aroused the entire 
 household. In a few minutes, the up 
 per hall was filled with trembling fig 
 ures in night - dresses uttering cries, 
 and demanding the origin of the alarm. 
 Through the agitated group, Lady Brand, 
 wrapped in her dressing - robe, hurried 
 to Honoria s chamber, her heart throb 
 bing violently, her cheeks as pale as 
 ashes. 
 
 Through the door-way came a hollow 
 moan. She hastened into the chamber, 
 only illumined by a few chance gleams 
 of the dying fire, and the last red rays 
 of the moon ; and, as she did so, heard 
 the low words 
 
 "Mother! mother! " 
 
 Suddenly she felt her bare feet for 
 in her haste she had not put on her slip 
 pers touch something moist. 
 
 She stooped touched the floor and 
 held up her finger. 
 
 It was blood. 
 
 With a wild, awful cry, she called for 
 lights. They were all ready at the door 
 in the hands of the affrighted household; 
 and a spectacle of unspeakable horror 
 was revealed to all eyes. 
 
 Lady Ruthven was extended upon 
 the couch, which it was obvious she only 
 had occupied her head hanging luu-k 
 like a wounded bird s, the bosom of her 
 snowy night-dress stained with blood 
 and the flow of blood had been so pro 
 fuse that, lying as slit- did upon the cdiru 
 of the bed, it had reached the floor, and 
 extended in a long, narrow stream tow 
 ard the chair before the fire, upon which 
 
136 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 the young lady had deposited her gar 
 ments when she retired. 
 
 The awful climax to this scene of hor 
 ror was the hilt of a Highland dirk clearly 
 relieved against the white night-dress, 
 and buried apparently in the young lady s 
 bosom. 
 
 Beneath the head of the young lady 
 was passed the arm of Dr. Vandyke, who, 
 divining in an instant, as Ruthven darted 
 by him, what had happened, . had hast 
 ened to the chamber and the bedside. 
 
 " O doctor ! what is this ? " cried 
 Lady Brand. 
 
 "Murder, madam!" was the hoarse 
 reply. 
 
 Lady Brand, with a low cry, extend 
 ed her arms toward her child, tottered, 
 and would have fallen, had not Colonel 
 Brand, who hastily entered at the mo 
 ment, caught her in his arms. 
 
 Such was the spectacle in the bridal 
 chamber. But the family were destined 
 on this night to sup full on horror. 
 
 Colonel Brand, nearly unmanned, 
 bore his wife to a couch, and had just 
 deposited the apparently lifeless form 
 thereon, when violent knocking was 
 heard at the great door of the mansion, 
 and voices loudly demanded admittance. 
 
 A shudder ran through the crowd, 
 and every one listened. The violent 
 knocking continued there was in its 
 very sound something urgent and terri 
 ble and, seizing a flambeau, Colonel 
 Brand, ashy pale and with compressed 
 lips, hastened down the staircase, threw 
 open the door, and, holding the flam 
 beau aloft, demanded the occasion of 
 the outcry. 
 
 No reply was necessary. Borne in 
 the arms of two servants, he saw the 
 body of Edmund Innis the face deadly 
 pale, the eyes closed, the bosom covered 
 with blood. The servants, chancing to 
 pass by the great oak, on their way to 
 the quarters, had been startled by a 
 groan fled with superstitious fear at 
 first; but, summoning courage, had re 
 
 turned to the spot, and discovered Innis 
 stretched in a pool of blood upon the 
 snow. They had hastily raised him 
 borne him between them to the "great 
 house," and knocked loudly at the door 
 to summon assistance. 
 
 Colonel Brand uttered a low groan, 
 as the servants explained in hurried 
 words how and where they had found 
 the body. He could only gasp out an 
 order that the dying man should be 
 brought in. He then went back, wellnigh 
 broken-hearted, to his daughter s cham 
 ber. 
 
 As he crossed the threshold, he stag 
 gered in his gait, but all at once his eyes 
 expanded with a sort of joy. Lady 
 Brand was holding the head of llonoria 
 upon her bosom, and the young lady was 
 sobbing. Dr. Vandyke, crouching down, 
 was rapidly applying bandages to the 
 wound. On the floor, whither he had 
 hurled it, lay a hideous object the 
 bloody weapon drawn by the physician 
 from the body of the girl. 
 
 It had not entered her bosom, toward 
 which the murderous hand had no doubt 
 directed it it slipped, or the hand was 
 unsteady; the point had only pierced 
 the white arm beneath the shoulder. A 
 profuse flow of blood had taken place, 
 but the wound was merely dangerous, 
 not necessarily mortal ; and, under the 
 skilful hand of Dr. Vandyke, the blood 
 soon ceased to flow. 
 
 In a few words, Colonel Brand in 
 formed Dr. Vandyke of the discovery of 
 Innis s body. A start and a strange 
 glance greeted the intelligence of this 
 additional tragedy. 
 
 " The devil is let loose, then ! " he mut 
 tered, in his harsh metallic voice " both 
 fulfilled to the letter!" 
 
 And, with these singular words, the 
 physician turned and said : 
 
 "llonoria is easy for the present. 
 Where is he Edmund Innis ? " 
 
 He was conducted to the chamber, 
 where the young man had been laid up- 
 
THE BRIDAL CHAMBER. 
 
 137 
 
 on a bed, nearly but not quite insensible 
 "A hideous business, truly!" mutterec 
 the physician, tearing away the clothe: 
 from the young man s breast, and ex 
 amining the wound, around which the 
 blood had coagulated in the intensely 
 cold night. " This one will die, I think 
 the lung pierced " 
 
 lie called for hot water, washed the 
 wound, bandaged it, and, giving direc 
 tions to an old nurse to remain with In- 
 nis, went back to Honoria s chamber. 
 All eyes were turned toward him, in 
 cluding Honoria s, who breathed regu 
 larly now. 
 
 " A bad wound, but not mortal," he 
 said ; " and now this young lady must 
 go to sleep. All will please leave this 
 chamber but Lady Brand." 
 
 The agitated group disappeared, Dr. 
 Vandyke going out last with Colonel 
 Brand. 
 
 As the door closed, their eyes met. 
 
 " The meaning of all this! the mean 
 ing, doctor ? " groaned the colonel, 
 ghastly pale. 
 
 "Simple," was the reply. "Your 
 daughter married, as I told you, a mad 
 man." 
 
 "Good Heavens! and this poor 
 boy?" 
 
 " They fought, or the madman struck 
 him in the dark." 
 
 "And?" 
 
 " Will he die, you mean ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " 
 
 "In three days. Honoria s hurt is 
 slight, comparatively. The boy s is mor 
 tal. I give him three days !" 
 
 An hour afterward, a further discov 
 ery was made, which put the finishing 
 touch to this night of horrors. What 
 had become of Lord Ruthven and his 
 body-servant? Dr. Vandyke recalled 
 the violent collision with Lord Ruthven 
 on the staircase, as he rushed toward 
 the front-door; and the servants who 
 had discovered the body of Innis, re 
 ported that they had seen two dark fig 
 
 uresone apparently in pursuit of the 
 other hastening in the direction of the 
 hills skirting the river. This intelligence 
 left little doubt that Lord Ruthven had 
 attempted or committed suicide ; and a 
 party, supplied with torches, followed the 
 footsteps, plain in the snow, toward the 
 point in question. The steps were evi 
 dently those of Lord Ruthven and his 
 servant, whose ponderous boots had left 
 very different traces from those of his 
 master. 
 
 The double footprints crossed the 
 snow-covered expanse of the lawn led 
 by the oak where the combat had taken 
 place were traced on the other side 
 of the enclosure around the grounds, 
 through the melancholy wilderness of 
 evergreens beyond, and ceased abruptly 
 upon the summit of a rock, beneath 
 which the river hemmed in between 
 high banks rushed with great rapidity 
 through its deep and narrow channel. 
 Here, on the IrinTc of the aicful precipice 
 to use the very words of Lord Ruth 
 ven, uttered to Fergus at Williamsburg 
 were found the traces apparently of a 
 violent struggle. The snow was trampled 
 and the footprints of master and servant 
 were clearly distinguishable, intermingled 
 in such a manner as to leave little doubt 
 that they had grappled with each other. 
 The fact was plain that both had fallen 
 or thrown themselves into the stream ; 
 and this proved to be the truth. Two 
 hundred yards down the bank, the bodies 
 of Lord Ruthven and Fergus were dis 
 covered both were dead the arms of 
 the clansman clasping his chieftain, as 
 :hough he had died in the effort to save 
 lira. 
 
 This was all that was ever known, 
 lad the two committed suicide ? Or, in 
 ;he struggle, had they fallen into the 
 rushing stream, and been drowned? 
 There was no means of determining the 
 question. 
 
 The bodies were borne back to Ri- 
 anna. On the next day they were in- 
 
138 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 terred side by side in the graveyard at 
 tached to the parish church some miles 
 distant. Death had thus not separated 
 them, and Fergus lay where he would 
 have chosen, beside his master. 
 
 LX. 
 
 THE STATEMENT AND THE PAPER. 
 
 NOTHING, in reference to the events 
 of this fearful night, between the mo 
 ment when Honoria retired to the time 
 when her screams aroused the household, 
 was ever accurately known, except by 
 three persons. These persons bound 
 themselves, it is said, by a solemn obli 
 gation, not to speak upon so painful and 
 terrible a subject. But, in spite of that 
 fact, a rumor, in time, began to creep 
 about. Some indiscreet listener had over 
 heard, perchance, some words uttered in 
 supposed privacy ; and, link by link, de 
 tail by detail, the mystery was, or pro 
 fessed to be, revealed. 
 
 This whispered rumor, for want of 
 better information, is here given. Of its 
 accuracy, the reader will form his own 
 opinion. 
 
 Honoria s statement was, that she had 
 retired, on her wedding-night, at a quar 
 ter-past eleven ; a fact which she re 
 membered, as she had glanced at the 
 clock in the hall as she went toward the 
 great staircase. She was, at this hour, 
 completely exhausted, .and nearly sunk 
 down from pure weakness and agitation, 
 as her bridesmaids assisted her in mak 
 ing her night-toilet. The young ladies 
 had then left her apartment ; she retired 
 to bed, fell into a morbid state, half 
 sleeping, half waking; but was suddenly 
 aroused by a horrible breathing, appar 
 ently issuing from behind the curtains 
 of her bed, identical with that heard on 
 the night when she had performed the 
 ceremony of eating the dumb-cake, This 
 sound, she stated, filled her Avith such 
 fright that she nearly fainted, and only 
 
 remembered what followed, as human 
 beings remember dreams. She saw, or 
 fancied she saw, the fire slowly die away, 
 and darkness invade the chamber. The 
 only light now was that of the blood-red 
 moon, which shone through the western 
 window, throwing upon the opposite 
 wall the shadow of one of the boughs 
 of the great oak opposite the window ; 
 and this shadow, as before, assumed the 
 appearance of a gigantic arm, the hand 
 grasping a dagger. 
 
 From this moment she recalled little, 
 and that as a sort of dream, full of ter 
 ror. Lord Kuthven seemed to stand at 
 her bedside, his face as pale as death, his 
 lips writhing, and his eyes fearfully 
 bright. In his hand he grasped a dagger, 
 such as she had seen in the dumb-cake 
 dream, and exclaiming, in a hollow tone, 
 " False ! false ! false ! " he had crouched, 
 lifted his arm ; the weapon had gleamed 
 in the red moonlight, and a hot iron 
 seemed suddenly to pass through her 
 shoulder, whereupon she had lost con 
 sciousness, only to be aroused by the en 
 trance of her mother. 
 
 Such was the narrative attributed to 
 the young lady, and there was little rea 
 son to discredit it, with the exception of 
 the asserted identity between the real 
 poniard which had inflicted the wound, 
 and that seen in the dream on the night 
 of the dumb-cake. That Honoria be 
 lieved the two to be identical in appear 
 ance is certain. When the weapon was 
 shown to her she swooned, and, as soon 
 as she opened her eyes, begged those 
 around her to remove it, as she had seen 
 it before. It is certain, at least, that 
 this idea of the identity of the real and 
 fanciful weapon had taken strong pos 
 session of the young lady s mind ; and 
 a paper, discovered in a drawer of the 
 chamber occupied by Lord Ruthven, 
 directed to Colonel Brand, is said to 
 have strongly corroborated this strange 
 idea. 
 
 To this paper which was the same 
 
THE STATEMENT AND THE 
 
 139 
 
 shown by Lord Euthven to Dr. Vandyk 
 we now pass. For reasons, of which 
 he declared himself, in brief words, to 
 be the best judge, Colonel Brand, after 
 reading this paper, proceeded at once to 
 destroy it by holding it in the flame of a 
 candle until it was reduced to ashes. He 
 never afterward alluded to it to any 
 member of his household; but, either 
 through himself or through Dr. Van 
 dyke, its purport became known, or pro 
 fessed to be known. Here, as before, 
 recourse must be had to rumor that 
 ambiguous but often accurate version of 
 secret occurrences which so frequently 
 creeps about. 
 
 It was said that, in this paper, Lord 
 Euthven sought to vindicate himself 
 in advance from the charge of blood- 
 thirstiness, in the event of the commis 
 sion by himself of a terrible crime. In 
 order to thus relieve his memory of a 
 portion at least of the guilt, he presented 
 a history of his life. He declared him 
 self to be the representative of an an 
 cient Scottish family, which had pos 
 sessed, time out of mind, the fearful gift 
 of the " second-sight " a faculty which 
 enabled them to look into the future, and 
 thus foresee the events of their own 
 lives. The consciousness of this fatal 
 gift had, he declared, afforded him, from 
 his earliest years, unspeakable wretched 
 ness. His character had been naturally 
 genial and cheerful ; this fearful faculty 
 had made him harsh, irritable, and mel 
 ancholy. He had struggled long and 
 obstinately to divert his mind of all be 
 lief in it had striven to laugh at it as 
 an absurd superstition, instilled into him 
 by the old Highland crone who had 
 nursed him, and told him frightful 
 stories from his cradle ; but all was vain. 
 The fearful proof was there to falsify his 
 hopes. In his dreams he bad foreseen 
 events which duly and literally came to 
 pass, in spite of every effort which Tie 
 made to prevent their occurrence. This 
 was the terrible part. He could not re 
 
 sist this secret fate, driving him to fulfil 
 the visions. Of this statement, Lord 
 Euthven presented several instances. 
 He had had a favorite hound. A vision 
 told him that the hound would perish by 
 his hand, and to avoid this painful event 
 he had presented the animal to u neigh 
 boring friend, with the injunction to 
 keep him out of his (Lord Euthven s) 
 sight. The hound had, nevertheless, 
 perished by his own knife. He was 
 deer-hunting the animal was driven to 
 bay, and he had dismounted and thrown 
 himself upon the stag, struggling with 
 the dogs, couteau de chaase in hand, and 
 struck at his throat, Instead of the 
 deer s throat, the knife entered the breast 
 of one of the dogs. It was his favorite, 
 who, hearing the cry of his old compan 
 ions on the hills, had joined in the hunt, 
 and thus met his death, in accordance 
 with the vision. 
 
 A second instance was similar. He 
 had a riding-horse of great beauty and 
 speed, though so violent at times that lie 
 was dangerous. He was his favorite of 
 the whole stud ; and when he one night 
 had a vision, in which he saw himself 
 shoot the animal dead, he awoke de 
 pressed and sorrowful. This time he 
 swore to disappoint the devil ; and, 
 without delay, sent the animal by a re 
 liable groom to an English nobleman, his 
 friend, residing more than three hun 
 dred miles distant, requesting him to ac- 
 ept the horse. A note of thanks for so 
 ine an animal came back. Euthven for- 
 ot the incident ; but a year afterward 
 was visiting in Perthshire, when, in a 
 paddock attached to the mansion of his 
 host, he saw the horse, dragging a groom 
 by the bridle and pawing at him. 
 Whence had the animal come? he 
 
 asked. The reply was that Lord 
 
 was coming for the hunting-season, and 
 had sent this horse to await his arrival. 
 This explanation had scarcely been giv 
 en, when the groom was thrown to the 
 earth, and the animal tore him with his 
 
140 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 teeth, and rose ou his hind-legs to paw 
 him to death. Ruthven was jnst going 
 out grouse-shooting, and had his fowling- 
 piece in his hand. It was a choice be 
 tween the life of the man and the life of 
 the horse. He discharged the contents 
 of his fowling-piece into the animal be 
 hind the shoulder he rolled over, tore 
 up the grass with his teeth, and expired. 
 The man was saved ; but Ruthven re 
 turned to the house, bade his friend fare 
 well, and went back sorrowfully to his 
 castle. He had fulfilled the second vi 
 sion. 
 
 This had made him wellnigh lose all 
 hope, and surrender himself to despair. 
 But a blessed discontinuance of the vi 
 sions succeeded. For many years he slept 
 tranquilly saw nothing and began to 
 hope that Heaven had mercifully ex 
 empted him from further torture. The 
 visions came no more; he attained the 
 age of twenty-five when all at once he 
 began to see vaguely the forms of a young 
 man and a young lady, in connection 
 with whom some terrible event was to 
 occur, in which event he was to act the 
 chief part. Filled with horror at this 
 vague (and more frightful because vague) 
 vision, he determined to leave Scotland ; 
 and that for a double reason. The pop 
 ular belief in connection with the fearful 
 gift of second-sight was, that those af 
 flicted with it had only to leave their 
 own land and travel, to lose the faculty. 
 This was the main reason inducing him 
 to resolve upon a prolonged absence from 
 Scotland. Another was to seek in travel, 
 society, cards, dissipation, if necessary, 
 relief from his frightful visions. Still a 
 third reason for visiting the Continent 
 was to allay a foreboding, which had for 
 some time chilled him the fancy that, 
 perhaps, after all, he was simply a per 
 son of unsound mind the apparent ful 
 filment of his visions, in the cases of the 
 dog and the horse, being only coinci 
 dences. In accordance with the resolu 
 tion formed, he left Scotland, went to 
 
 Paris, plunged into gay society, and 
 found his visions disappear. 
 
 The question of his sanity remained ; 
 and he laid his " case," without reserva 
 tion or concealment of any description, 
 before some of the most celebrated phy 
 sicians of Europe, who declared, over 
 their own names, in a written paper, 
 that Lord Ruthven was, in their opinion, 
 a person of somewhat morbid and excit 
 able organization, but, in point of sanity 
 or insanity of mind, no more insane than 
 themselves. This had proved an enor 
 mous relief to him. Then, he was sim 
 ply " excitable " torturing himself with 
 " morbid " fancies ; the second-sight was 
 a chimera ! He would, therefore, re 
 turn home, and laugh at his visions. 
 This resolution was followed by a return 
 to Scotland. For a brief time, no vi 
 sions disturbed him ; but then they re 
 turned in a more aggravated form than 
 before. The vagueness had no\v quite dis 
 appeared all was clear-cut, and distinct. 
 He saw a young man and a young lady 
 whose blood was to be shed by himself. 
 The young lady was to be his bride the 
 young gentleman was his unsuccessful 
 rival. They were to inhabit a region di 
 versified by mountains those of Scot 
 land, apparently. The tragedy was to 
 grow out of the preference of the young 
 lady for his poorer rival. She was to 
 prove false to him by granting, on his 
 very wedding-night, a stolen and crimi 
 nal interview to this rival. They were 
 to fight in the snow the rival was to 
 fall; then, he, Ruthven, was to go to the 
 bridal chamber, strike his Highland dirk 
 into the bosom of the bride ; and after 
 ward commit self-destruction by throw 
 ing himself from a precipice, crowned 
 with evergreens, into a swollen torrent. 
 
 Such was to be his fate this was his 
 future : love, murder, and suicide ! 
 
 In unutterable horror, he determined 
 to fly from Scotland, which he supposed 
 to be the scene of the future tragedy 
 for the precipice, the evergreens, the 
 
EPILOGUE. 
 
 141 
 
 swollen torrent, all seemed to indicate, 
 with sufficient exactness, the locality. 
 This time he resolved that he would 
 cheat Fate itself of its prey : he would 
 leave the accursed scene of future crime 
 forever. An opportunity to do so unex 
 pectedly presented itself. His friend 
 Lord Botetourt was appointed Governor 
 of Virginia beyond the ocean was 
 safety. He at once applied for permis 
 sion to join the suite of the new govern 
 or readily received it ; sailed for Vir 
 ginia ; and breathed freely once more, 
 with the delightful consciousness that he 
 had outrun the haunting Fate. 
 
 His comfort was short-lived. Riding 
 one day at full gallop along Gloucester 
 Street, in Williamsburg, his horse had 
 shied suddenly ; Jie was unseated and fell 
 losing his senses by the fall. When he 
 regained consciousness, he saw before 
 him the young gentleman seen in his vi 
 sion in /Scotland ! The sight of the youth 
 overcame him with horror ; and he had 
 but one hope that this was a coinci 
 dence only; that he had met with this 
 young gentleman, Mr. Innis, in Europe, 
 and hence the recognition of him. He 
 had accordingly questioned him, and dis 
 covered that no such meeting could have 
 taken place, as Mr. Innis had never visit 
 ed Europe thus he was certain that 
 they had never before met. Upon this 
 discovery, his resolution was promptly 
 taken. As Virginia was to be the scene 
 of his crime, he would instantly leave 
 the country, as he had left Scotland ; and 
 he gave prompt orders to have his trunks 
 gotten ready for his departure. The de 
 parture had not taken place. First, there 
 was a difficulty about a vessel ; then the 
 governor begged him to delay ; then Mr. 
 Innis left Williamsburg, and all danger 
 for the moment was plainly over. 
 
 The second identification followed. 
 At the governor s assembly he saw enter 
 the room the young lady of his vision 
 his bride and victim to be. Thereat his 
 horror had been overwhelming. He 
 
 sought to avoid even an introduction to 
 her ; but circumstances rendered it ne 
 cessary ; he had danced with her, vis 
 ited her, conceived an ardent passion for 
 her ; and thus completely lost the power 
 of leaving her. He had not sufficient 
 strength to do so ; but soothed his agita 
 tion, at thought of the vision, by swear 
 ing that he would put an end to his own 
 life, before he would do harm to the 
 young girl whom he loved so dearly. 
 Thenceforward things took their course. 
 He proposed for Ilonoria s hand, was ac 
 cepted by her father, the time was fixed 
 and, to crown his happiness, Mr. Innis, 
 the unsuccessful lover of the young lady, 
 was perfectly resigned to his fate, and 
 about to leave the country. Thus, the 
 hated visions were a cheat second-sight 
 a farce, after all he would be happily 
 married, do harm to no one, and, in the 
 sunshine of love, forget all his past sor 
 rows. 
 
 But, if his Fate still hunted him down 
 if some hidden hand drove him on to 
 conceive the possibility of such crimes 
 as he had seen himself commit, he would 
 stop on the threshold, perish by his own 
 hand ; and this paper, addressed to Colo 
 nel Brand, would be the explanation and 
 vindication of the tragedy. 
 
 Such were the alleged contents of 
 Lord Ruthven s narrative. How the 
 terrible sequel was brought about has 
 been recorded. 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 FOR three months the life of Innis 
 seemed suspended by a hair, which the 
 hand of a child the least breath would 
 break. 
 
 His wound then began slowly to heal, 
 and, in the last days of May, he rose, 
 pale, thin, and tottering, from his bed, 
 entering the world thus once more, as it 
 were, from the postern of the grave. 
 
142 
 
 DOCTOR VANDYKE. 
 
 HoDoria had completely recovered 
 from her wound sometime before; and 
 the terrible events of her wedding-night 
 began to relax their painful hold upon 
 her mind. She looked back now to those 
 events as to a fearful dream, from which 
 she had awakened ; and the May sun 
 shine saw the roses once more blooming 
 in her cheeks. 
 
 That she and Innis were married in 
 due time, we need scarcely assure the 
 reader. Of the will of Colonel Seaton 
 there was no question at all. Colonel 
 Brand had duly recorded it in the proper 
 court, surrendered Rivanna to Innis. 
 gave him the hand of Honoria and all 
 lived in peace and harmony under a sin 
 gle roof. 
 
 On the night of Honoria s marriage 
 to Innis, Miss Lou Brand bestowed her 
 queenly hand upon Mr. Phil Cary. It 
 was a happy double wedding, and even 
 Mrs. Cary, who was present, and in the 
 seat of honor, was overjoyed at the hap 
 piness of her son. 
 
 Side by side, near the married cou 
 ples, stood two persons who have fre^- 
 quently appeared in this history Meta 
 and Dr. Vandyke. 
 
 With the termination of the tragedy, 
 so long overshadowing Rivanna, Meta 
 had begun to recover her strength, and 
 to regain the roses in her cheeks. It 
 seemed a miracle, this return to life, and, 
 what was far better than life, the blessed 
 light of reason. No more, now, a sub 
 tle, scheming, mad girl, burnt up by a 
 
 morbid jealousy, but a gentle and tender 
 woman, moved by all sweet influences 
 and kindly emotions, Meta stood beside 
 Honoria, as one of her bridesmaids, smil 
 ing and beautiful in her dark curls the 
 spring flowers she thought she should 
 never more see. 
 
 And Dr. Vandyke the cynical, bit 
 ter, large-hearted, profound, and clown 
 ish personage Dr. Vandyke had come 
 all the way from Williamsbnrg to be 
 present at the wedding, which he had 
 contemplated with a grin, and spiced 
 with an allusion to Mrs. Snuffers, a ven 
 erable personage, whom he believed to 
 be bent on marrying him. As the night 
 drew on, and the long hours fled by like 
 birds into the darkness, the wit and 
 satire of Dr. Vandyke sparkled more and 
 more. 
 
 Beside the great punch-bowl, and oc 
 casionally waving the ladle around his 
 head, he resembled some eccentric gob 
 lin, and there was something weird 
 about his laughter. But, toward mid 
 night this merriment disappeared the 
 face of this strange man grew deeply 
 sorrowful. With his eyes fixed upon 
 the great clock, whose hand approached 
 twelve, the doctor fell into a reverie, and 
 sighed. 
 
 Phil Cary laid a hand upon his shoul 
 der, and cried : 
 
 " What are you thinking of, doctor? " 
 
 Dr. Vandyke uttered a deeper sigh 
 than before. 
 
 " Poor Ruthven ! " he muttered. 
 
 THE END. 
 
COOPER S 
 
 LEATHER-STOCKING NOVELS. 
 
 " TlIE ENDURING MONUMENTS OF FENIMORE COOPER ARE HIS WORKS. WlIILE THE 
 LOVE OF COUNTRY CONTINUES TO PREVAIL, HIS MEMORY WILL EXIST IN THE HEARTS OF 
 THE PEOPLE. SO TRULY PATRIOTIC AND AMERICAN THROUGHOUT, THEY SHOULD FIND 
 
 A PLACE IN EVERY AMERICAN S LIBRARY." Daniel Webster. 
 
 SPLENDIDLY-ILLUSTRATED POPULAR EDITION 
 
 OF 
 
 WORLD-FAMOUS 
 
 Leather-Stocking Romances, 
 
 D. APPLETON & Co. announce that they have commenced the publication of J. 
 Fenimore Cooper s Novels, in a form designed for general popular circulation. The 
 Series will begin with the famous " Leather-Stocking Talcs," five in number, and 
 will be published in the following order, at intervals of about a month : 
 
 I. The Last of the Mohicans. 
 II. The Deerslayer. IV. The Pioneers. 
 
 PI. The Pathfinder. V. The Prairie. 
 
 This edition of the "Leather-Stocking Tales" will be printed in handsome octavo 
 volumes, from new stereotype plates, each volume superbly and fully illustrated with 
 entirely new designs by the distinguished artist, F. 0. C. Barley, and bound m an 
 attractive paper cover. Price, 75 cents per volume. 
 
 Heretofore there has been no edition of the acknowledged head of American 
 romancists suitable for general popular circulation, and hence the new is 
 famous novels will be welcomed by the generation of readers that have sprung u] 
 since Cooper departed from us. As time progresses, the character, genius, a] 
 value of the Cooper romances become more widely recognized ; he is now accepte 
 as the great classic of our American literature, and his books as the prose epics 
 our early history. 
 
 D. APPLETON & Co., PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK. 
 
POPEAE HOTELS, BY fflUA 
 
 COMETH UP AS A FLOWER, 
 
 8vo. Paper covers. Price, 60 cents; 12 mo, cloth, $1 50 
 
 NOT WISELY, BUT TOO WELL, 
 
 8vo. Paper covers. Price, 60 cents ; 12mo, cloth, " 1 50 
 
 RED AS A ROSE IS SHE, 
 
 8vo. Paper covers. Price, 60 cents; 12mo, cloth. " 1 50 
 
 GOOD-BYE, SWEETHEART! 
 
 Paper. 75 cents; 12 mo, cloth, " l 50 
 
 " Good-bye, Sweetheart ! " is certainly one of the brightest and 
 most entertaining novels that has appeared for rnauy years. The 
 heroine of the story, Lenore, is really an original character, drawn 
 only as a woman could draw her, who had looked deeply into the 
 mysterious recesses of the feminine heart. She is a creation to 
 tally beyond the scope of a man s pen, unless it were the pen of 
 Shakespeare. Her beauty, her wilfulness, her caprice, her love, 
 and her sorrow, are depicted with marvellous skill, and invested 
 with an interest of which the reader nover becomes weary. Misa 
 Broughton, in this work, has made an immense advance on her 
 other stories, clever as those are. Tier sketches of scenery and of 
 interiors, though brief, are eminently graphic, and the dialogue is- 
 always sparkling and witty. The incidents, though sometimes 
 startling and unexpected, are very natural, and the characters and 
 story, from the beginning to the end, strongly enchain the atten 
 tion of the reader. 
 
 Opinions of the Press on " Eed as a Eose is She." 
 
 From the Boston Traveller. 
 
 " After reading such a work, one can no more read an ordinary book than one 
 could enjoy a lunch on dry bread immediately after having dined on curry and Chili, 
 washed down with burnt brandy." 
 
 From the Baltimore Gazette. 
 
 " The cleverest novel of the season. The characters are few, but remarkably 
 well drawn ; the dialogue fresh, crisp, and sparkling, and the incidents thoroughly 
 natural." 
 
 Either of the above sent/ree, by mail, to any part of the United States. 
 
14 
 t>s* 
 
 i^> 
 
 
 t^^JS^ 
 
 Jietv 
 
 -* 
 
 &#*$&*" 
 
 ^oiv^S*Vef