CHAPTER XII. A WOMAN'S LOVE
"Shall I ever forget the blast of driving rain that struck our faces andenveloped us in a cloud of wet, as the door swung on its hinges and letus forth into the night; or the electric thrill that shot through me asthat slender girl grasped my hand and drew me away through the blindingdarkness. It was not that I was so much affected by her beauty asinfluenced by her power and energy. The fury of the gale seemed to bendto her will, the wind lend wings to her feet. I began to realize whatintellect was. Arrived at the roadside, she paused and looked back. Thetwo burly forms of the men we had left behind us were standing in thedoor of the inn; in another moment they had plunged forth and towardsus. With a low cry the young girl leaped towards a tree where tomy unbounded astonishment I beheld my horse standing ready saddled.Dragging the mare from her fastenings, she hung the lantern, burning asit was, on the pommel of the saddle, struck the panting creature a smartblow upon the flank, and drew back with a leap to my side.
"The startled horse snorted, gave a plunge of dismay and started awayfrom us down the road.
"'We will wait,' said Luttra.
"The words were no sooner out of her mouth than her father and brotherrushed by.
"'They will follow the light,' whispered she; and seizing me again bythe hand, she hurried me away in the direction opposite to thatwhich the horse had taken. 'If you will trust me, I will bring you toshelter,' she murmured, bending her slight form to the gusty wind butrelaxing not a whit of her speed.
"'You are too kind,' I murmured in return. 'Why should you exposeyourself to such an extent for a stranger?'
"Her hand tightened on mine, but she did not reply, and we hastenedon as speedily as the wind and rain would allow. After a short butdetermined breasting of the storm, during which my breath had nearlyfailed me, she suddenly stopped.
"'Do you know,' she exclaimed in a low impressive tone, 'that we are onthe verge of a steep and dreadful precipice? It runs along here for aquarter of a mile and it is not an uncommon thing for a horse and riderto be dashed over it in a night like this.'
"There was something in her manner that awakened a chill in my veinsalmost as if she had pointed out some dreadful doom which I hadunwittingly escaped.
"'This is, then, a dangerous road,' I murmured.
"'Very,' was her hurried and almost incoherent reply.
"How far we travelled through the mud and tangled grasses of thathorrible road I do not know. It seemed a long distance; it was probablynot more than three quarters of a mile. At last she paused with a short'Here we are;' and looking up, I saw that we were in front of a smallunlighted cottage.
"No refuge ever appeared more welcome to a pair of sinking wanderers Iam sure. Wet to the skin, bedrabbled with mud, exhausted with breastingthe gale, we stood for a moment under the porch to regain our breath,then with her characteristic energy she lifted the knocker and struck asmart blow on the door.
"'We will find shelter here,' said she.
"She was not mistaken. In a few moments we were standing once morebefore a comfortable fire hastily built by the worthy couple whoseslumbers we had thus interrupted. As I began to realize the sweetness ofconscious safety, all that this young, heroic creature had done for meswept warmly across my mind. Looking up from the fire that was beginningto infuse its heat through my grateful system, I surveyed her as sheslowly undid her long braids and shook them dry over the blaze, andalmost started to see how young she was. Not more than sixteen I shouldsay, and yet what an invincible will shone from her dark eyes anddignified her slender form; a will gentle as it was strong, elevatedas it was unbending. I bowed my head as I watched her, in gratefulthankfulness which I presently put into words.
"At once she drew herself erect. 'I did but my duty,' said she quietly.'I am glad I was prospered in it.' Then slowly. 'If you are grateful,sir, will you promise to say nothing of--of what took place at the inn?'
"Instantly I remembered a suspicion which had crossed my mind whilethere, and my hand went involuntarily to my vest pocket. The roll ofbills was gone.
"She did not falter. 'I would be relieved if you would,' continued she.
"I drew out my empty hand, looked at it, but said nothing.
"'Have you lost anything?' asked she. 'Search in your overcoat pockets.'
"I plunged my hand into the one nearest her and drew it out withsatisfaction; the roll of bills was there. 'I give you my promise,' saidI.
"'You will find a bill missing,' she murmured; 'for what amount I do notknow; the sacrifice of something was inevitable.'
"'I can only wonder over the ingenuity you displayed, as well as expressmy appreciation for your bravery,' returned I with enthusiasm. 'You area noble girl.'
"She put out her hand as if compliments hurt her. 'It is the first timethey have ever attempted anything like that,' cried she in a quick lowtone full of shame and suffering. 'They have shown a disposition to--totake money sometimes, but they never threatened life before. And theydid threaten yours. They saw you take out your money, through a holepierced in the wall of the room you occupied, and the sight made themmad. They were going to kill you and then tumble you and your horse overthe precipice below there. But I overheard them talking and when theywent out to saddle the horse, I hurried up to your room to wake you. Ihad to take possession of the bills; you were not safe while you heldthem. I took them quietly because I hoped to save you without betrayingthem. But I failed in that. You must remember they are my father and mybrother.'
"'I will not betray them,' said I.
"She smiled. It was a wintry gleam but it ineffably softened her face. Ibecame conscious of a movement of pity towards her.
"'You have a hard lot,' remarked I. 'Your life must be a sad one.'
"She flashed upon me one glance of her dark eye. 'I was born forhardship,' said she, 'but--' and a sudden wild shudder seized her, 'butnot for crime.'
"The word fell like a drop of blood wrung from her heart.
"'Good heavens!' cried I, 'and must you--'
"'No,' rang from her lips in a clarion-like peal; 'some things cut thevery bonds of nature. I am not called upon to cleave to what will dragme into infamy.' Then calmly, as if speaking of the most ordinary matterin the world, 'I shall never go back to that house we have left behindus, sir.'
"'But,' cried I, glancing at her scanty garments, 'where will you go?What will you do? You are young--'
"'And very strong,' she interrupted. 'Do not fear for me.' And her smilewas like a burst of sudden sunshine.
"I said no more that night.
"But when in the morning I stumbled upon her sitting in the kitchenreading a book not only above her position but beyond her years,a sudden impulse seized me and I asked her if she would like to beeducated. The instantaneous illumining of her whole face was sufficientreply without her low emphatic words,
"'I would be content to study on my knees to know what some women do,whom I have seen.'
"It is not necessary for me to relate with what pleasure I caught atthe idea that here was a chance to repay in some slight measure theinestimable favor she had done me; nor by what arguments I finally wonher to accept an education at my hands as some sort of recompense forthe life she had saved. The advantage which it would give her in herstruggle with the world she seemed duly to appreciate, but that sogreat a favor could be shown her without causing me much trouble and anunwarrantable expense, she could not at once be brought to comprehend,and till she could, she held out with that gentle but inflexible will ofhers. The battle, however, was won at last and I left her in that littlecottage, with the understanding that as soon as the matter could bearranged, she was to enter a certain boarding-school in Troy with themistress of which I was acquainted. Meanwhile she was to go out toservice at Melville and earn enough money to provide herself withclothes.
"I was a careless fellow in those days but I kept my promise to thatgirl. I not only entered her into that school for a course of threeyears, but acting through its mistress who had taken a
great fancy toher, supplied her with the necessities her position required. It was soeasy; merely the signing of a check from time to time, and it wasdone. I say this because I really think if it had involved any personalsacrifice on my part, even of an hour of my time, or the labor of athought, I should not have done it. For with my return to the city myinterest in my cousin revived, absorbing me to such an extent that anymatter disconnected with her soon lost all charm for me.
"Two years passed; I was the slave of Evelyn Blake, but there was noengagement between us. My father's determined opposition was enough toprevent that. But there was an understanding which I fondly hoped wouldone day open for me the way of happiness. But I did not know my father.Sick as he was--he was at that time laboring under the disease which ina couple of months later bore him to the tomb--he kept an eye upon mymovements and seemed to probe my inmost heart. At last he came to adefinite decision and spoke.
"His words opened a world of dismay before me. I was his only child, ashe remarked, and it had been and was the desire of his heart to leaveme as rich and independent a man as himself. But I seemed disposedto commit one of those acts against which he had the most determinedprejudice; marriage between cousins being in his eyes an unsanctifiedand dangerous proceeding, liable to consequences the most unhappy. If Ipersisted, he must will his property elsewhere. The Blake estate shouldnever descend with the seal of his approbation to a race of probableimbeciles.
"Nor was this enough. He not only robbed me of the woman I loved,but with a clear insight into the future, I presume, insisted uponmy marrying some one else of respectability and worth before he died.'Anyone whose appearance will do you credit and whose virtue is beyondreproach,' said he. 'I don't ask her to be rich or even the offspring ofone of our old families. Let her be good and pure and of no connectionto us, and I will bless her and you with my dying breath.'
"The idea had seized upon him with great force, and I soon saw he wasnot to be shaken out of it. To all my objections he returned but the oneword,
"'I don't restrict your choice and I give you a month in which tomake it. If at the end of that time you cannot bring your bride to mybedside, I must look around for an heir who will not thwart my dyingwishes.'"
"A month! I surveyed the fashionable belles that nightly thronged theparlors of my friends and felt my heart sink within me. Take one of themfor my wife, loving another woman? Impossible. Women like these demandedsomething in return for the honor they conferred upon a man by marryinghim. Wealth? they had it. Position? that was theirs also. Consideration?ah, what consideration had I to give? I turned from them with distaste.
"My cousin Evelyn gave me no help. She was a proud woman and loved mymoney and my expectations as much as she did me.
"'If you must marry another woman to retain your wealth, marry, saidshe, 'but do not marry one of my associates. I will have no rival in myown empire; your wife must be a plainer and a less aspiring woman thanEvelyn Blake. Yet do not discredit your name,--which is mine,' she wouldalways add.
"Meanwhile the days flew by. If my own conscience had allowed me toforget the fact, my father's eagerly inquiring, but sternly unrelentinggaze as I came each evening to his bedside, would have kept itsufficiently in my mind. I began to feel like one in the power ofsome huge crushing machine whose slowly descending weight he in vainendeavors to escape.
"How or when the thought of Luttra first crossed my mind I cannotsay. At first I recoiled at the suggestion and put it away from me indisdain; but it ever recurred and with it so many arguments in her favorthat before long I found myself regarding it as a refuge. To be sure shewas a waif and a stray, but that seemed to be the kind of wife demandedof me. She was allied to rogues if not villains, I knew; but then hadshe not cut all connection with them, dropped away from them, plantedher feet on new ground which they would never invade? I commenced tocherish the idea. With this friendless, grateful, unassuming protegee ofmine for a wife, I would be as little bound as might be. She wouldask nothing, and I need give nothing, beyond a home and the commonattentions required of a gentleman and a friend. Then she was notdisagreeable, nor was her beauty of a type to suggest the charms ofher I had lost. None of the graces of the haughty patrician lady whoselightest gesture was a command, would appear in this humble girl, tomock and constrain me. No, I should have a fair wife and an obedientone, but no vulgarized shadow of Evelyn, thank God, or of any of herfashionably dressed friends.
"Advanced thus far towards the end, I went to see Luttra. I had notbeheld her since the morning we parted at the door of that littlecottage in Vermont, and her presence caused me a shock. This, the humblewaif with the appealing grateful eyes I had expected to encounter? thistall and slender creature with an aureola of golden hair about a facethat it was an education to behold! I felt a half movement of anger as Isurveyed her. I had been cheated; I had planted a grape seed and a palmtree had sprung up in its place. I was so taken aback, my salute lostsomething of the benevolent condescension I had intended to infuse intoit. She seemed to feel my embarassment and a half smile fluttered toher lips. That smile decided me. It was sweet but above all else it wasappealing.
"How I won that woman to marry me in ten days time I care not tostate. Not by holding up my wealth and position before her. Somethingrestrained me from that. I was resolved, and perhaps it was the onlypoint of light in my conduct at that time, not to buy this young girl. Inever spoke of my expectations, I never alluded to my present advantagesyet I won her.
"We were married, there, in Troy in the quietest and most unpretendingmanner. Why the fact has never transpired I cannot say. I certainly tookno especial pains to conceal it at the time, though I acknowledgethat after our separation I did resort to such measures as I thoughtnecessary, to suppress what had become gall and wormwood to my pride.
"My first move after the ceremony was to bring her immediately to NewYork and to this house. With perhaps a pardonable bitterness of spirit,I had refrained from any notification of my intentions, and it was asstrangers might enter an unprepared dwelling, that we stepped across thethreshold of this house and passed immediately to my father's room.
"'I can give you no wedding and no honeymoon,' I had told her. 'Myfather is dying and demands my care. From the altar to a death-bed maybe sad for you, but it is an inevitable condition of your marriage withme.' And she had accepted her fate with a deep unspeakable smile it hastaken me long months of loneliness and suffering to understand.
"'Father, I bring you my bride,' were my first words to him as the doorclosed behind us shutting us in with the dread, invisible Presence thatfor so long a time had been relentlessly advancing upon our home.
"I shall never forget how he roused himself in his bed, nor with whateager eyes he read her young face and surveyed her slight form swayingtowards him in her sudden emotion like a flame in a breeze. Nor while Ilive shall I lose sight of the spasm of uncontrollable joy with whichhe lifted his aged arms towards her, nor the look with which she sprangfrom my side and nestled, yes nestled, on the breast that never to myremembrance had opened itself to me even in the years of my earliestchildhood. For my father was a stern man who believed in holding love atarm's length and measured affection by the depth of awe it inspired.
"'My daughter!' broke from his lips, and he never inquired who she wasor what; no, not even when after a moment of silence she raised her headand with a sudden low cry of passionate longing looked in his face andmurmured,
"'I never had a father.'
"Sirs, it is impossible for me to continue without revealing depthsof pride and bitterness in my own nature, from which I now shrink withunspeakable pain. So far from being touched by this scene, I felt myselfgrow hard under it. If he had been disappointed in my choice, queriedat it or even been simply pleased at my obedience, I might have acceptedthe wife I had won, and been tolerably grateful. But to love her, admireher, glory in her when Evelyn Blake had never succeeded in winning aglance from his eyes that was not a public disapprobation! I couldnot endure it; my whole bei
ng rebelled, and a movement like hate tookpossession of me.
"Bidding my wife to leave me with my father alone, I scarcely waitedfor the door to close upon the poor young thing before all that had beenseething in my breast for a month, burst from me in the one cry,
"'I have brought you a daughter as you commanded me. Now give me theblessing you promised and let me go; for I cannot live with a woman I donot love.'
"Instantly, and before his lips could move, the door opened and thewoman I thus repudiated in the first dawning hour of her young bliss,stood before us. My God! what a face! When I think of it now in thenight season--when from dreams that gloomy as they are, are oftenelysian to the thoughts which beset me in my waking hours, I suddenlyarouse to see starting upon me from the surrounding shadows that youngfair brow with its halo of golden tresses, blotted, ay blotted by theagony that turned her that instant into stone, I wonder I did not takeout the pistol that lay in the table near which I stood, and shoot herlifeless on the spot as some sort of a compensation for the misery I hadcaused her. I say I wonder now: then I only thought of braving it out.
"Straight as a dart, but with that look on her face, she came towardsus. 'Did I hear aright?' were the words that came from her lips. 'Haveyou married me, a woman beneath your station as I now perceive, becauseyou were commanded to do so? Have you not loved me? given me that whichalone makes marriage a sacrament or even a possibility? and must youleave this house made sacred by the recumbent form of your dying fatherif I remain within it?'
"I saw my father's stiff and pallid lips move silently as thoughhe would answer for me if he could, and summoning up what courage Ipossessed, I told her that I deeply regretted she had overheard myinconsiderate words. That I had never meant to wound her, whateverbitterness lay in my heart towards one who had thwarted me in my dearestand most cherished hopes. That I humbly begged her pardon and would sofar acknowledge her claim upon me as to promise that I would not leavemy home at this time, if it distressed her; my desire being not toinjure her, only to protect myself.
"O the scorn that mounted to her brow at these weak words. Not scorn ofme, thank God, worthy as I was of it that hour, but scorn of my slightopinion of her.
"'Then I heard aright,' she murmured, and waited with a look that wouldnot be gainsaid.
"I could only bow my head, cursing the day I was born.
"'Holman! Holman!' came in agonized entreaty from the bed, 'you will notrob me of my daughter now?'
"Startled, I looked up. Luttra was half way to the door.
"'What are you going to do?' cried I, bounding towards her.
"She stopped me with a look. 'The son must never forsake the father,'said she. 'If either of us must leave the house this day, let it be I.'Then in a softer tone, 'When you asked me to be your wife, I who hadworshipped you from the moment you entered my father's house on thememorable night I left it, was so overcome at your condescension thatI forgot you did not preface it by the usual passionate, 'I love you,'which more than the marriage ring binds two hearts together. In theglamour and glow of my joy, I did not see that the smile that was in myheart, was missing from your face. I was to be your wife and that wasenough, or so I thought then, for I loved you. Ah, and I do now, myhusband, love you so that I leave you. Were it for your happiness Iwould do more than that, I would give you back your freedom, but fromwhat I hear, it seems that you need a wife in name and I will be butfulfilling your desire in holding that place for you. I will neverdisgrace the position high as it is above my poor deserts. When the daycomes--if the day comes--that you need or feel you need the sustainmentof my presence or the devotion of my heart, no power on earth save thatof death itself, shall keep me from your side. Till that day arrives Iremain what you have made me, a bride who lays no claim to the nameyou this morning bestowed upon her.' And with a gesture that was like abenediction, she turned, and noiselessly, breathlessly as a dream thatvanishes, left the room.
"Sirs, I believe I uttered a cry and stumbled towards her. Some one inthat room uttered a cry, but it may be that it only rose in my heart andthat the one I heard came from my father's lips. For when at the doorI turned, startled at the deathly silence, I saw he had fainted on hispillow. I could not leave him so. Calling to Mrs. Daniels, who was neverfar from my father in those days, I bade her stop the lady--I believeI called her my wife--who was going down the stairs, and then rushed tohis side. It took minutes to revive him. When he came to himself it wasto ask for the creature who had flashed like a beacon of light upon hisdarkening path. I rose as if to fetch her but before I could advance Iheard a voice say, 'She is not here,' and looking up I saw Mrs. Danielsglide into the room.
"'Mrs. Blake has gone, sir, I could not keep her.'"