Read Wieland; Or, The Transformation: An American Tale Page 10


  Chapter X

  Order could not readily be introduced into my thoughts. The voice stillrung in my ears. Every accent that was uttered by Carwin was fresh in myremembrance. His unwelcome approach, the recognition of his person, hishasty departure, produced a complex impression on my mind which no wordscan delineate. I strove to give a slower motion to my thoughts, and toregulate a confusion which became painful; but my efforts were nugatory.I covered my eyes with my hand, and sat, I know not how long, withoutpower to arrange or utter my conceptions.

  I had remained for hours, as I believed, in absolute solitude. Nothought of personal danger had molested my tranquillity. I had madeno preparation for defence. What was it that suggested the design ofperusing my father's manuscript? If, instead of this, I had retiredto bed, and to sleep, to what fate might I not have been reserved? Theruffian, who must almost have suppressed his breathing to screen himselffrom discovery, would have noticed this signal, and I should haveawakened only to perish with affright, and to abhor myself. Could I haveremained unconscious of my danger? Could I have tranquilly slept in themidst of so deadly a snare?

  And who was he that threatened to destroy me? By what means could hehide himself in this closet? Surely he is gifted with supernaturalpower. Such is the enemy of whose attempts I was forewarned. Daily I hadseen him and conversed with him. Nothing could be discerned through theimpenetrable veil of his duplicity. When busied in conjectures, as tothe author of the evil that was threatened, my mind did not light, fora moment, upon his image. Yet has he not avowed himself my enemy? Whyshould he be here if he had not meditated evil?

  He confesses that this has been his second attempt. What was the sceneof his former conspiracy? Was it not he whose whispers betrayed him? AmI deceived; or was there not a faint resemblance between the voice ofthis man and that which talked of grasping my throat, and extinguishingmy life in a moment? Then he had a colleague in his crime; now heis alone. Then death was the scope of his thoughts; now an injuryunspeakably more dreadful. How thankful should I be to the power thathas interposed to save me!

  That power is invisible. It is subject to the cognizance of one of mysenses. What are the means that will inform me of what nature it is?He has set himself to counterwork the machinations of this man, who hadmenaced destruction to all that is dear to me, and whose cunning hadsurmounted every human impediment. There was none to rescue me fromhis grasp. My rashness even hastened the completion of his scheme, andprecluded him from the benefits of deliberation. I had robbed him of thepower to repent and forbear. Had I been apprized of the danger, I shouldhave regarded my conduct as the means of rendering my escape from itimpossible. Such, likewise, seem to have been the fears of my invisibleprotector. Else why that startling intreaty to refrain from opening thecloset? By what inexplicable infatuation was I compelled to proceed?

  Yet my conduct was wise. Carwin, unable to comprehend my folly, ascribedmy behaviour to my knowledge. He conceived himself previously detected,and such detection being possible to flow only from MY heavenly friend,and HIS enemy, his fears acquired additional strength.

  He is apprized of the nature and intentions of this being. Perhaps heis a human agent. Yet, on that supposition his atchievements areincredible. Why should I be selected as the object of his care; or, ifa mere mortal, should I not recognize some one, whom, benefits impartedand received had prompted to love me? What were the limits and durationof his guardianship? Was the genius of my birth entrusted by divinebenignity with this province? Are human faculties adequate toreceive stronger proofs of the existence of unfettered and beneficentintelligences than I have received?

  But who was this man's coadjutor? The voice that acknowledged analliance in treachery with Carwin warned me to avoid the summer-house.He assured me that there only my safety was endangered. His assurance,as it now appears, was fallacious. Was there not deceit in hisadmonition? Was his compact really annulled? Some purpose was, perhaps,to be accomplished by preventing my future visits to that spot. Why wasI enjoined silence to others, on the subject of this admonition, unlessit were for some unauthorized and guilty purpose?

  No one but myself was accustomed to visit it. Backward, it was hiddenfrom distant view by the rock, and in front, it was screened from allexamination, by creeping plants, and the branches of cedars. Whatrecess could be more propitious to secrecy? The spirit which haunted itformerly was pure and rapturous. It was a fane sacred to the memoryof infantile days, and to blissful imaginations of the future! What agloomy reverse had succeeded since the ominous arrival of this stranger!Now, perhaps, it is the scene of his meditations. Purposes fraught withhorror, that shun the light, and contemplate the pollution of innocence,are here engendered, and fostered, and reared to maturity.

  Such were the ideas that, during the night, were tumultuously revolvedby me. I reviewed every conversation in which Carwin had borne a part.I studied to discover the true inferences deducible from his deportmentand words with regard to his former adventures and actual views. Ipondered on the comments which he made on the relation which I had givenof the closet dialogue. No new ideas suggested themselves in the courseof this review. My expectation had, from the first, been disappointedon the small degree of surprize which this narrative excited in him. Henever explicitly declared his opinion as to the nature of those voices,or decided whether they were real or visionary. He recommended nomeasures of caution or prevention.

  But what measures were now to be taken? Was the danger which threatenedme at an end? Had I nothing more to fear? I was lonely, and withoutmeans of defence. I could not calculate the motives and regulate thefootsteps of this person. What certainty was there, that he would notre-assume his purposes, and swiftly return to the execution of them?

  This idea covered me once more with dismay. How deeply did I regret thesolitude in which I was placed, and how ardently did I desire the returnof day! But neither of these inconveniencies were susceptible of remedy.At first, it occurred to me to summon my servant, and make her spend thenight in my chamber; but the inefficacy of this expedient to enhance mysafety was easily seen. Once I resolved to leave the house, and retireto my brother's, but was deterred by reflecting on the unseasonablenessof the hour, on the alarm which my arrival, and the account which Ishould be obliged to give, might occasion, and on the danger to which Imight expose myself in the way thither. I began, likewise, to considerCarwin's return to molest me as exceedingly improbable. He hadrelinquished, of his own accord, his design, and departed withoutcompulsion. "Surely," said I, "there is omnipotence in the cause thatchanged the views of a man like Carwin. The divinity that shielded mefrom his attempts will take suitable care of my future safety. Thus toyield to my fears is to deserve that they should be real."

  Scarcely had I uttered these words, when my attention was startled bythe sound of footsteps. They denoted some one stepping into the piazzain front of my house. My new-born confidence was extinguished in amoment. Carwin, I thought, had repented his departure, and was hastilyreturning. The possibility that his return was prompted by intentionsconsistent with my safety, found no place in my mind. Images ofviolation and murder assailed me anew, and the terrors which succeededalmost incapacitated me from taking any measures for my defence. It wasan impulse of which I was scarcely conscious, that made me fasten thelock and draw the bolts of my chamber door. Having done this, I threwmyself on a seat; for I trembled to a degree which disabled me fromstanding, and my soul was so perfectly absorbed in the act of listening,that almost the vital motions were stopped.

  The door below creaked on its hinges. It was not again thrust to, butappeared to remain open. Footsteps entered, traversed the entry, andbegan to mount the stairs. How I detested the folly of not pursuing theman when he withdrew, and bolting after him the outer door! Might he notconceive this omission to be a proof that my angel had deserted me, andbe thereby fortified in guilt?

  Every step on the stairs, which brought him nearer to my chamber, addedvigor to my desperation. The evil with which I was menaced was to b
e atany rate eluded. How little did I preconceive the conduct which, in anexigence like this, I should be prone to adopt. You will suppose thatdeliberation and despair would have suggested the same course of action,and that I should have, unhesitatingly, resorted to the best means ofpersonal defence within my power. A penknife lay open upon my table. Iremembered that it was there, and seized it. For what purpose you willscarcely inquire. It will be immediately supposed that I meant it for mylast refuge, and that if all other means should fail, I should plunge itinto the heart of my ravisher.

  I have lost all faith in the stedfastness of human resolves. It was thusthat in periods of calm I had determined to act. No cowardice had beenheld by me in greater abhorrence than that which prompted an injuredfemale to destroy, not her injurer ere the injury was perpetrated, butherself when it was without remedy. Yet now this penknife appeared tome of no other use than to baffle my assailant, and prevent the crimeby destroying myself. To deliberate at such a time was impossible; butamong the tumultuous suggestions of the moment, I do not recollect thatit once occurred to me to use it as an instrument of direct defence. Thesteps had now reached the second floor. Every footfall accelerated thecompletion, without augmenting, the certainty of evil. The consciousnessthat the door was fast, now that nothing but that was interposed betweenme and danger, was a source of some consolation. I cast my eye towardsthe window. This, likewise, was a new suggestion. If the door shouldgive way, it was my sudden resolution to throw myself from the window.Its height from the ground, which was covered beneath by a brickpavement, would insure my destruction; but I thought not of that.

  When opposite to my door the footsteps ceased. Was he listening whethermy fears were allayed, and my caution were asleep? Did he hope to takeme by surprize? Yet, if so, why did he allow so many noisy signals tobetray his approach? Presently the steps were again heard to approachthe door. An hand was laid upon the lock, and the latch pulled back. Didhe imagine it possible that I should fail to secure the door? A slighteffort was made to push it open, as if all bolts being withdrawn, aslight effort only was required.

  I no sooner perceived this, than I moved swiftly towards the window.Carwin's frame might be said to be all muscle. His strength and activityhad appeared, in various instances, to be prodigious. A slight exertionof his force would demolish the door. Would not that exertion be made?Too surely it would; but, at the same moment that this obstacle shouldyield, and he should enter the apartment, my determination was formed toleap from the window. My senses were still bound to this object. I gazedat the door in momentary expectation that the assault would be made. Thepause continued. The person without was irresolute and motionless.

  Suddenly, it occurred to me that Carwin might conceive me to have fled.That I had not betaken myself to flight was, indeed, the least probableof all conclusions. In this persuasion he must have been confirmed onfinding the lower door unfastened, and the chamber door locked. Wasit not wise to foster this persuasion? Should I maintain deep silence,this, in addition to other circumstances, might encourage the belief,and he would once more depart. Every new reflection added plausibilityto this reasoning. It was presently more strongly enforced, when Inoticed footsteps withdrawing from the door. The blood once more flowedback to my heart, and a dawn of exultation began to rise: but my joy wasshort lived. Instead of descending the stairs, he passed to the door ofthe opposite chamber, opened it, and having entered, shut it after himwith a violence that shook the house.

  How was I to interpret this circumstance? For what end could he haveentered this chamber? Did the violence with which he closed the doortestify the depth of his vexation? This room was usually occupied byPleyel. Was Carwin aware of his absence on this night? Could he besuspected of a design so sordid as pillage? If this were his view therewere no means in my power to frustrate it. It behoved me to seize thefirst opportunity to escape; but if my escape were supposed by myenemy to have been already effected, no asylum was more secure than thepresent. How could my passage from the house be accomplished withoutnoises that might incite him to pursue me?

  Utterly at a loss to account for his going into Pleyel's chamber, Iwaited in instant expectation of hearing him come forth. All, however,was profoundly still. I listened in vain for a considerable period, tocatch the sound of the door when it should again be opened. There wasno other avenue by which he could escape, but a door which led into thegirl's chamber. Would any evil from this quarter befall the girl?

  Hence arose a new train of apprehensions. They merely added to theturbulence and agony of my reflections. Whatever evil impended over her,I had no power to avert it. Seclusion and silence were the only means ofsaving myself from the perils of this fatal night. What solemn vows didI put up, that if I should once more behold the light of day, I wouldnever trust myself again within the threshold of this dwelling!

  Minute lingered after minute, but no token was given that Carwin hadreturned to the passage. What, I again asked, could detain him in thisroom? Was it possible that he had returned, and glided, unperceived,away? I was speedily aware of the difficulty that attended an enterprizelike this; and yet, as if by that means I were capable of gaining anyinformation on that head, I cast anxious looks from the window.

  The object that first attracted my attention was an human figurestanding on the edge of the bank. Perhaps my penetration was assistedby my hopes. Be that as it will, the figure of Carwin was clearlydistinguishable. From the obscurity of my station, it was impossiblethat I should be discerned by him, and yet he scarcely suffered me tocatch a glimpse of him. He turned and went down the steep, which, inthis part, was not difficult to be scaled.

  My conjecture then had been right. Carwin has softly opened the door,descended the stairs, and issued forth. That I should not have overheardhis steps, was only less incredible than that my eyes had deceived me.But what was now to be done? The house was at length delivered from thisdetested inmate. By one avenue might he again re-enter. Was it not wiseto bar the lower door? Perhaps he had gone out by the kitchen door. Forthis end, he must have passed through Judith's chamber. These entrancesbeing closed and bolted, as great security was gained as was compatiblewith my lonely condition.

  The propriety of these measures was too manifest not to make me strugglesuccessfully with my fears. Yet I opened my own door with the utmostcaution, and descended as if I were afraid that Carwin had been stillimmured in Pleyel's chamber. The outer door was a-jar. I shut, withtrembling eagerness, and drew every bolt that appended to it. I thenpassed with light and less cautious steps through the parlour, but wassurprized to discover that the kitchen door was secure. I was compelledto acquiesce in the first conjecture that Carwin had escaped through theentry.

  My heart was now somewhat eased of the load of apprehension. I returnedonce more to my chamber, the door of which I was careful to lock. It wasno time to think of repose. The moon-light began already to fade beforethe light of the day. The approach of morning was betokened by the usualsignals. I mused upon the events of this night, and determined to takeup my abode henceforth at my brother's. Whether I should inform himof what had happened was a question which seemed to demand someconsideration. My safety unquestionably required that I should abandonmy present habitation.

  As my thoughts began to flow with fewer impediments, the image ofPleyel, and the dubiousness of his condition, again recurred to me. Iagain ran over the possible causes of his absence on the preceding day.My mind was attuned to melancholy. I dwelt, with an obstinacy for whichI could not account, on the idea of his death. I painted to myself hisstruggles with the billows, and his last appearance. I imagined myselfa midnight wanderer on the shore, and to have stumbled on his corpse,which the tide had cast up. These dreary images affected me even totears. I endeavoured not to restrain them. They imparted a relief whichI had not anticipated. The more copiously they flowed, the more didmy general sensations appear to subside into calm, and a certainrestlessness give way to repose.

  Perhaps, relieved by this effusion, the slumber so much wa
nted mighthave stolen on my senses, had there been no new cause of alarm.