Read Ormond; Or, The Secret Witness. Volume 1 (of 3) Page 8


  CHAPTER VII.

  Adjacent to the house occupied by Baxter was an antique brick tenement.It was one of the first erections made by the followers of William Penn.It had the honour to be used as the temporary residence of thatvenerable person. Its moss-grown penthouse, crumbling walls, and ruinousporch, made it an interesting and picturesque object. Notwithstandingits age, it was still tenable.

  This house was occupied, during the preceding months, by a Frenchman:his dress and demeanour were respectable: his mode of life was frugalalmost to penuriousness, and his only companion was a daughter. The ladyseemed not much less than thirty years of age, but was of a small anddelicate frame. It was she that performed every household office. Shebrought water from the pump, and provisions from the market. Their househad no visitants, and was almost always closed. Duly as the morningreturned a venerable figure was seen issuing from his door, dressed inthe same style of tarnished splendour and old-fashioned preciseness. Atthe dinner-hour he as regularly returned. For the rest of the day he wasinvisible.

  The habitations in this quarter are few and scattered. The pestilencesoon showed itself here, and the flight of most of the inhabitantsaugmented its desolateness and dreariness. For some time, Monrose (thatwas his name) made his usual appearance in the morning. At length theneighbours remarked that he no longer came forth as usual. Baxter had anotion that Frenchmen were exempt from this disease. He was, besides,deeply and rancorously prejudiced against that nation. There will be nodifficulty in accounting for this, when it is known that he had been anEnglish grenadier at Dettingen and Minden. It must likewise be added,that he was considerably timid, and had sickness in his own family.Hence it was that the disappearance of Monrose excited in him noinquisitiveness as to the cause. He did not even mention thiscircumstance to others.

  The lady was occasionally seen as usual in the street. There were alwaysremarkable peculiarities in her behaviour. In the midst of grave anddisconsolate looks, she never laid aside an air of solemn dignity. Sheseemed to shrink from the observation of others, and her eyes werealways fixed upon the ground. One evening Baxter was passing the pumpwhile she was drawing water. The sadness which her looks betokened, anda suspicion that her father might be sick, had a momentary effect uponhis feelings. He stopped and asked how her father was. She paid a politeattention to his question and said something in French. This, and theembarrassment of her air, convinced him that his words were notunderstood. He said no more (what indeed could he say?) but passed on.

  Two or three days after this, on returning in the evening to his family,his wife expressed her surprise in not having seen Miss Monrose in thestreet that day. She had not been at the pump, nor had she gone, asusual, to market. This information gave him some disquiet; yet he couldform no resolution. As to entering the house and offering his aid, ifaid were needed, he had too much regard for his own safety, and toolittle for that of a frog-eating Frenchman, to think seriously of thatexpedient. His attention was speedily diverted by other objects, andMonrose was, for the present, forgotten.

  Baxter's profession was that of a porter. He was thrown out ofemployment by the present state of things. The solicitude of theguardians of the city was exerted on this occasion, not only inopposing the progress of disease, and furnishing provisions to thedestitute, but in the preservation of property. For this end the numberof nightly watchmen was increased. Baxter entered himself in thisservice. From nine till twelve o'clock at night it was his province tooccupy a certain post.

  On this night he attended his post as usual: twelve o'clock arrived, andhe bent his steps homeward. It was necessary to pass by Monrose's door.On approaching this house, the circumstance mentioned by his wiferecurred to him. Something like compassion was conjured up in his heartby the figure of the lady, as he recollected to have lately seen it. Itwas obvious to conclude that sickness was the cause of her seclusion.The same, it might be, had confined her father. If this were true, howdeplorable might be their present condition! Without food, withoutphysician or friends, ignorant of the language of the country, andthence unable to communicate their wants or solicit succour; fugitivesfrom their native land, neglected, solitary, and poor.

  His heart was softened by these images. He stopped involuntarily whenopposite their door. He looked up at the house. The shutters wereclosed, so that light, if it were within, was invisible. He stepped intothe porch, and put his eye to the key-hole. All was darksome and waste.He listened, add imagined that he heard the aspirations of grief. Thesound was scarcely articulate, but had an electrical effect upon hisfeelings. He retired to his home full of mournful reflections.

  He was billing to do something for the relief of the sufferers, butnothing could be done that night. Yet succour, if delayed till themorning, might be ineffectual. But how, when the morning came, should heproceed to effectuate his kind intentions? The guardians of the publicwelfare at this crisis were distributed into those who counselled andthose who executed. A set of men, self-appointed to the generous office,employed themselves in seeking out the destitute or sick, and impartingrelief. With this arrangement Baxter was acquainted. He was resolved tocarry tidings of what he had heard and seen to one of those personsearly the next day.

  Baxter, after taking some refreshment, retired to rest. In no long time,however, he was awakened by his wife, who desired him to notice acertain glimmering on the ceiling. It seemed the feeble and flitting rayof a distant and moving light, coming through the window. It did notproceed from the street, for the chamber was lighted from the side, andnot from the front of the house. A lamp borne by a passenger, or theattendants of a hearse, could not be discovered in this situation.Besides, in the latter case, it would be accompanied by the sound of thevehicle, and, probably by weeping and exclamations of despair. Hisemployment as the guardian of property, naturally suggested to him theidea of robbery. He started from his bed, and went to the window.

  His house stood at the distance of about fifty paces from that ofMonrose. There was annexed to the latter a small garden or yard, boundedby a high wooden fence. Baxter's window overlooked this space. Before hereached the window, the relative situation of the two habitations,occurred to him. A conjecture was instantly formed that the glimmeringproceeded from this quarter. His eye, therefore, was immediately fixedupon Monrose's back door. It caught a glimpse of a human figure passinginto the house through this door. The person had a candle in his hand.This appeared by the light which streamed after him, and which wasperceived, though faintly, through a small window of the dwelling, afterthe back-door was closed.

  The person disappeared too quickly to allow him to say whether it wasmale or female. This scrutiny confirmed rather than weakened theapprehensions that first occurred. He reflected on the desolate andhelpless condition of this family. The father might be sick, and whatopposition could be made by the daughter to the stratagems of violenceof midnight plunderers? This was an evil which it was his duty, in anextraordinary sense, to obviate. It is true, the hour of watching waspassed, and this was not the district assigned to him; but Baxter was,on the whole, of a generous and intrepid spirit. In the present case,therefore, he did not hesitate long in forming his resolution. He seizeda hanger that hung at his bedside, and which had hewn many an Hungarianand French hussar to pieces. With this he descended to the street. Hecautiously approached Monrose's house. He listened at the door, butheard nothing. The lower apartment, as he discovered through thekey-hole, was deserted and dark. These appearances could not beaccounted for. He was, as yet, unwilling to call or to knock. He wassolicitous to obtain some information by silent means, and withoutalarming the persons within, who, if they were robbers, might thus beput upon their guard, and enabled to escape. If none but the family werethere, they would not understand his signals, and might impute thedisturbance to the cause which he was desirous to obviate. What could hedo? Must he patiently wait till some incident should happen to regulatehis motions?

  In this uncertainty, he bethought himself of going round to the backpart of the dwelli
ng, and watching the door which had been closed. Anopen space, filled with rubbish and weeds, adjoined the house and gardenon one side. Hither he repaired, and, raising his head above the fence,at a point directly opposite the door, waited with considerableimpatience for some token or signal, by which he might be directed inhis choice of measures.

  Human life abounds with mysterious appearances. A man perched on a fenceat midnight, mute and motionless, and gazing at a dark and drearydwelling, was an object calculated to rouse curiosity. When the muscularform and rugged visage, scared and furrowed into something likeferocity, were added,--when the nature of the calamity by which the citywas dispeopled was considered,--the motives to plunder, and theinsecurity of property arising from the pressure of new wants on thepoor, and the flight or disease of the rich, were attended to, anobserver would be apt to admit fearful conjectures.

  We know not how long Baxter continued at this post. He remained herebecause he could not, as he conceived, change it for a better. Beforehis patience were exhausted, his attention was called by a noise withinthe house. It proceeded from the lower room. The sound was that ofsteps, but this was accompanied with other inexplicable tokens. Thekitchen door at length opened. The figure of Miss Monrose, pale,emaciated, and haggard, presented itself. Within the door stood acandle. It was placed on a chair within sight, and its rays streameddirectly against the face of Baxter, as it was reared above the top ofthe fence. This illumination, faint as it was, bestowed a certain air ofwildness on the features which nature, and the sanguinary habits of asoldier, had previously rendered, in an eminent degree, harsh and stern.He was not aware of the danger of discovery in consequence of thisposition of the candle. His attention was, for a few seconds, engrossedby the object before him. At length he chanced to notice another object.

  At a few yards' distance from the fence, and within it, some oneappeared to have been digging. An opening was made in the ground, but itwas shallow and irregular. The implement which seemed to have been usedwas nothing more than a fire-shovel, for one of these he observed lyingnear the spot. The lady had withdrawn from the door, though withoutclosing it. He had leisure, therefore, to attend to this newcircumstance, and to reflect upon the purpose for which this openingmight have been designed.

  Death is familiar to the apprehensions of a soldier. Baxter had assistedat the hasty interment of thousands, the victims of the sword or ofpestilence. Whether it was because this theatre of human calamity wasnew to him, and death, in order to be viewed with his ancient unconcern,must be accompanied in the ancient manner, with halberts and tents,certain it is, that Baxter was irresolute and timid in every thing thatrespected the yellow fever. The circumstances of the time suggested,that this was a grave, to which some victim of this disease was to beconsigned. His teeth chattered when he reflected how near he might nowbe to the source of infection: yet his curiosity retained him at hispost.

  He fixed his eyes once more upon the door. In a short time the ladyagain appeared at it. She was in a stooping posture, and appeared to bedragging something along the floor. His blood ran cold at thisspectacle. His fear instantly figured to itself a corpse, livid andcontagious. Still he had no power to move. The lady's strength,enfeebled as it was by grief, and perhaps by the absence of nourishment,seemed scarcely adequate to the task which she had assigned herself.

  Her burden, whatever it was, was closely wrapped in a sheet. She drew itforward a few paces, then desisted, and seated herself on the groundapparently to recruit her strength, and give vent to the agony of herthoughts in sighs. Her tears were either exhausted or refused to flow,for none were shed by her. Presently she resumed her undertaking.Baxter's horror increased in proportion as she drew nearer to the spotwhere he stood; and yet it seemed as if some fascination had forbiddenhim to recede.

  At length the burden was drawn to the side of the opening in the earth.Here it seemed as if the mournful task was finished. She threw herselfonce more upon the earth. Her senses seemed for a time to have forsakenher. She sat buried in reverie, her eyes scarcely open, and fixed uponthe ground, and every feature set to the genuine expression of sorrow.Some disorder, occasioned by the circumstance of dragging, now tookplace in the vestment of what he had rightly predicted to be a deadbody. The veil by accident was drawn aside, and exhibited, to thestartled eye of Baxter, the pale and ghastly visage of the unhappyMonrose.

  This incident determined him. Every joint in his frame trembled, and hehastily withdrew from the fence. His first motion in doing this produceda noise by which the lady was alarmed; she suddenly threw her eyesupward, and gained a full view of Baxter's extraordinary countenance,just before it disappeared. She manifested her terror by a piercingshriek. Baxter did not stay to mark her subsequent conduct, to confirmor to dissipate her fears, but retired in confusion to his own house.

  Hitherto his caution had availed him. He had carefully avoided allemployments and places from which he imagined imminent danger was to bedreaded. Now, through his own inadvertency, he had rushed, as hebelieved, into the jaws of the pest. His senses had not been assailed byany noisome effluvia. This was no implausible ground for imagining thathis death had some other cause than the yellow fever. This circumstancedid not occur to Baxter. He had been told that Frenchmen were notsusceptible of this contagion. He had hitherto believed this assertion,but now regarded it as having been fully confuted. He forgot thatFrenchmen were undoubtedly mortal, and that there was no impossibilityin Monrose's dying, even at this time, of a malady different from thatwhich prevailed.

  Before morning he began to feel very unpleasant symptoms. He related hislate adventure to his wife. She endeavoured, by what argument herslender ingenuity suggested, to quiet his apprehensions, but in vain. Hehourly grew worse, and as soon as it was light, dispatched his wife fora physician. On interrogating this messenger, the physician obtainedinformation of last night's occurrences, and this being communicated toone of the dispensers of the public charity, they proceeded, early inthe morning, to Monrose's house. It was closed as usual. They knockedand called, but no one answered. They examined every avenue to thedwelling, but none of them were accessible. They passed into the garden,and observed, on the spot marked out by Baxter, a heap of earth. A veryslight exertion was sufficient to remove it, and discover the body ofthe unfortunate exile beneath.

  After unsuccessfully trying various expedients for entering the house,they deemed themselves authorised to break the door. They entered,ascended the staircase, and searched every apartment in the house, butno human being was discoverable. The furniture was wretched and scanty,but there was no proof that Monrose had fallen a victim to the reigningdisease. It was certain that the lady had disappeared. It wasinconceivable whither she had gone.

  Baxter suffered a long period of sickness. The prevailing maladyappeared upon him in its severest form. His strength of constitution,and the careful attendance of his wife, were insufficient to rescue himfrom the grave. His case may be quoted as an example of the force ofimagination. He had probably already received, through the medium of theair, or by contact of which he was not conscious, the seeds of thisdisease. They might have perhaps have lain dormant, had not this panicoccurred to endow them with activity.