Wild Western Scenes Part 39

"I now proceeded to business, but my flesh quivered as my knife penetrated the smooth fair breast of the subject. Soon the skin and the flesh were removed, and the saw grated harshly as it severed the ribs. When the heart was exposed, all bent forward instinctively, scanning it minutely, and seemingly with a curiosity to ascertain if it differed from those of others whose lives were different.

[Ill.u.s.tration: It was Laura, the loved, adored Laura!--P. 221]

"When the operation was over, my anxiety to see her face returned.

After an ineffectual effort to untie the cord, I became impatient, and seizing the knife that lay on the table, ripped open the muslin that hid her features! My G.o.d! The knife dropped from my hand, and penetrating the floor, quivered upright at my feet, while every member of my body trembled in unison with it! I raised my hands with my fingers spread out to the utmost tension. My mouth fell open, and my eyes felt as if they were straining to leap from my head. _It was Laura_--the loved, adored Laura--_my_ Laura! My friends heard me repeat the name, and marked with surprise and concern my inexplicably miserable condition. They gathered round me, and endeavoured to divert my attention from the dead and now gory body. It was in vain. I heeded not their words, but gazed steadfastly at the sad features of Laura, with my hands still uplifted. I was speechless, deaf, and immovable.

No tear moistened my eyes, but burning thoughts rushed through my brain. My heart was cold, cold. Ah, I remembered how I had loved her once! I thought of the time when I was happy to bow down at her feet, and in good faith attribute to her many of the pure qualities pertaining to _risen_ angels. And this was her end! The beautiful and innocent--the loving and beloved--the high born and wealthy--the light and joy of fond and indulgent parents--had been beguiled by the infernal tempter to make one step aside from the straight and narrow-path of duty--and this was the result! The sensitive and guileless girl became an incarnate fiend, callous to every modest and virtuous impulse--scorned by the honest and good, and hating and undermining the redeeming principles of her species--rus.h.i.+ng from the high station which her ancestors had arduously laboured for generations to attain, and voluntarily taking up her abode in the dens of squalid misery and indelible pollution--closing her eyes to the might and majesty of a merciful G.o.d, beckoning her to his eternal throne in heaven, and giving heed to the fatal devices of the enemy of mankind, till she was dragged down, down to the innermost depths of a raging and roaring h.e.l.l! Such was the fate of Laura. Such is the fate of thousands who willingly err, though it be ever so slight, for the sake of enjoying an impious gratification. Poor Laura! Oh, how I loved her! But it is bootless to think of her now.

"I was gently forced from the dissecting-room by my friends, and conducted to my home in silence--in silence, because I had no words for any one. I pressed their hands at the door of my mansion, and bowing, they departed for their homes to muse over the incidents of the evening. I entered my silent chamber, but not to rest. I threw open the cas.e.m.e.nt and gazed out at the genial rays of the moon. The dark green leaves of the linden trees were motionless, and the silvery rays struggling through them cast a checkered and faint tint of mingled light and shade on the pavement beneath. The cool fresh air soothed my throbbing temples. I sank back in my seat and gazed up at the innumerable stars in the boundless sky. I thought the stellar host glittered with unusual brilliance, as if there were a joyous and holy revelry going on in heaven. My heart grew calm. I felt a conviction that true happiness, and purity of thought and purpose were inseparable. I knew that the contaminations of the world had overthrown many a righteous resolve, and linked the n.o.blest minded with infamy. I thought of Laura. The seductions of the world had literally prostrated an angel before my eyes. I determined to _leave_ the world, if not for ever, at least as long as its temptations to err, in the remotest degree, were liable to beset my path. I came hither."

When Glenn finished his narrative, Roughgrove rose in silence, and producing a small Bible that he always carried about his person, read in a low, but distinct and impressive tone, several pa.s.sages which were peculiarly applicable to the state of their feelings. Glenn then approached the couch where William slumbered peacefully. A healthful perspiration rested on his forehead, and a sweet smile played upon his lips, indicating that his dreams were not among the savage scenes in which he had so lately mingled. Mary, who had fallen asleep while seated at his side, overcome with silent watching, yet rested with her head on the same pillow, precisely in the same att.i.tude she reclined when Glenn began his recital. Roughgrove took her in his arms, and placing her softy at her brother's feet, bestowed a kiss upon her brow, and retired with Glenn to rest.

CHAPTER XVI.

Balmy spring--Joe's curious dream--He prepares to catch a fish--Glenn --William and Mary--Joe's sudden and strange appearance--La-u-na--The trembling fawn--The fis.h.i.+ng sport--The ducking frolic--Sneak and the panther.

It was now the first week in May. Every vestige of winter had long since disappeared, and the verdure of a rich soil and mild temperature was fast enrobing the earth with the freshest and most pleasing of colours. Instead of the dreary expanse of ice that had covered the river, its waters now murmured musically by in the early morn--its curling eddies running along the sedgy sh.o.r.e, while the rising sun slowly dissipated the floating mists; and the inspiring notes of all the wild variety of birds, contributed to invest the scene with such charms as the G.o.d of nature only can impart, and which may only be fully enjoyed and justly appreciated by guileless and unsophisticated mortals.

Glenn rambled forth, and, partaking the harmony that pervaded the earth, air, and waters, his breast swelled with a blissful exultation that can never be known amid the grating voices of contending men, or experienced in crowded cities, where many confused sounds vibrate harshly and distracting on the ear. He stood in his little garden among the flowers that Mary had planted, and watched the humming-birds poised among the trembling leaves, their tiny wings still unruffled by the dew, while their slender beaks inhaled the sweet moisture of the variegated blossoms. Long he regarded the enchanting scene, unconscious of the flight of time, and alike regardless of the past and the future in his all-absorbing admiration of the present, wherein he deemed he was not far remote from that Presence to which time and eternity are obedient--when his phantasm was abruptly and unceremoniously put to flight by his man Joe, who rushed out of the house with a long rod in his hand; yawning and rubbing his eyes, as if he had been startled from his morning slumber but a moment before.

"What's the matter?" demanded Glenn.

"It was a wapper!" said Joe.

"What was?"

"The fish."

"Where?" asked Glenn.

"I'll tell you. I dreamt I was sitting on a rock, down at the ferry, with this rod in my hand, fis.h.i.+ng for perch, when a thundering big catfish, as long as I am, took hold. I dreamt he pulled and I pulled--sometimes he had me in the water up to my knees, and sometimes I got him out on dry land. But he always flounced and kicked back again. Yet he couldn't escape, because the hook was still in his mouth, and when he jumped into the river I jumped to the rod, and so we had it over and over--"

"And now have done with it," said Glenn, interrupting him. "What are you holding the rod now for?"

"I'm going to try to catch him," said Joe, with unaffected simplicity.

"Merely because you had this dream!" continued Glenn, his features relaxing into a smile.

"Yes--I believe in dreams," said Joe. "Once, when we were living in Philadelphia, I had one of these same dreams. It was just about the same hour--"

"How do you know what hour it was you dreamt about the fish?" again interrupted Glenn.

"Why--I--," stammered Joe, "I'm sure it was about daybreak, because the sun rose a little while after I got out."

"That might be the case," said Glenn, "if you were to dream about the same thing from sun-down till sun-up. And I believe the fish was running in your head last night before I went to bed, for you were then snoring and jerking your arms about."

"Well, I'll tell you my other dream, anyhow. I dreamt I was walking along Spruce Street wharf with my head down, when all at once my toe struck against a red morocco pocket-wallet; I stooped down and picked it up and put it in my pocket, and went home before I looked to see what was in it."

"Well, what was in it when you did look?" asked Glenn.

"There was a one thousand dollar note on the Bank of the United States, with the president's and cas.h.i.+er's names on it, all genuine.

Oh, I was so happy! I put it in my vest-pocket and sewed it up."

"But what have you done with it since?" asked Glenn.

"I--Hang it! it was only a dream!"[1] said Joe, unconsciously feeling in his empty pocket.

[1] Thousands have had similar dreams about similar notes since Joe's dream.--_Printer's Devil_.

"But what has that dream to do with the fish?" pursued Glenn.

"I'll tell you," said Joe. "When I got up in the morning and discovered it was a dream, I slipped on my clothes as quickly as possible and set off for the wharf. When I got there, I walked along slowly with my head down till at length my toe struck against an oyster-sh.e.l.l. I picked it up, and while I was looking at it, the captain of a schooner invited me on board of his vessel to look at his cargo of oysters, just stolen from Deep Creek, Virginia. He gave me at least six dozen to eat!"

"And this makes you have faith in such dreams?" asked Glenn, striving in vain to repress his laughter.

"I got _something_ by the dream," said Joe. "I had a first rate oyster-breakfast."

"But what has all this to do with the fish?" continued Glenn; "perhaps, instead of the fish, you expect to catch a _frog_ this time.

You will still be an Irishman, Joe. Go and try your luck."

"St. Patrick forbid that I should be any thing else but an Irishman! I should like to know if an Irishman ain't as good as anybody else, particularly when he's born in America, as I was? But the dream in Philadelphia _did_ have something to do with a fish. Didn't I catch a fish? Isn't an oyster a fish? And it had something to do with _this_ fish, too. I've been bothering my head ever since I got up about what kind of _bait_ to catch him with, and I'm sure I never would have thought of the right kind if you hadn't mentioned that _frog_ just now. I recollect they say that's the very best thing in the world to bait with for a catfish. I'll go straight to the brook and hunt up a frog!" Saying this, Joe set out to execute his purpose, while Glenn proceeded to Roughgrove's house to see how William progressed in his studies.

The intelligent youth, under the guidance of Roughgrove, Glenn, and his unwearying and affectionate sister, was now rapidly making amends for the long neglect of his education while abiding with the unlettered Indians. He had already gone through the English grammar, and was entering the higher branches of study. The great poets of his own country, and the most approved novelists were his companions during the hours of relaxation; for when the illimitable fields of intellect were opened to his vision, he would scarce for a moment consent to withdraw his admiring gaze. Thus, when it was necessary for a season to cease his toil in the path of learning, he delighted to recline in some cool shade with a pleasing book in his hand, and regale his senses with the flowers and refres.h.i.+ng streams of imaginative authors. And thus sweetly glided his days. Could such halcyon moments last, it were worse than madness to seek the wealth and honours of this world! In that secluded retreat, though far from the land of his nativity, with no community but the companions.h.i.+p of his three or four friends and the joyous myriads of birds--no palaces but the eternal hills of nature, and no pageantry but the rays of the rising and setting sun streaming in prismatic dies upon them, the smiling youth was far happier than he would have been in the princely halls of his fathers, where the sycophant only bent the knee to receive a load of gold, and the friend that might protect him on the throne would be the first to stab him on the highway.

A spreading elm stood near the door of Roughgrove's house, and beneath its cl.u.s.tering boughs William and Mary were seated on a rude bench, entirely screened from the glaring light of the sun. A few paces distant the brook glided in low murmurs between the green flags and water violets over its pebbly bed. The morning dew yet rested on the gra.s.s in the shade. The soft sigh of the fresh breeze, as it pa.s.sed through the motionless branches of the towering elm, could scarce be heard, but yet sufficed ever and anon to lift aside the glossy ringlets that hung pendent to the maiden's shoulders. The paroquet and the thrush, the bluebird and goldfinch, fluttered among the thick foliage and trilled their melodies in sweetest cadence. Both the brother and sister wore a happy smile. Happy, because the innocence of angels dwelt in the bosom of the one, and the memory of his guileless and blissful days of childhood possessed the other. Occasionally they read some pa.s.sages in a book that lay open on Mary's lap, describing the last days of Charles I., and then the bright smile would be dimmed for a moment by a shade of sadness.

"Oh! poor man!" exclaimed Mary, when William read of the axe of the executioner descending on the neck of the prostrate monarch.

"It is far better to dwell in peace in such a quiet and lonely place as this, than to be where so many cruel men abide," said William, pondering.

"Ah me! I did not think that Christian men could be so cruel," said Mary, a bright tear dropping from her long eyelash.

"But the book says he was a tyrant and deserved to die," continued the youth, his lips compressed with firmness.

"He's coming!" exclaimed Mary, suddenly, and the pitying thought of the unfortunate Charles vanished from her mind. But as she steadily gazed up the path a crimson flush suffused her smooth brow and cheek, and she rose gracefully, and with a smile of delight, welcomed Glenn to the cool and refres.h.i.+ng shade of the majestic elm.

"You have come too late. William has already said his lesson, and I'm sure he knew it perfectly," said Mary, half-reproachfully and half-playfully.

"Mary don't know, Mr. Glenn; because I am now further advanced than she is," said William.

"But what kept you away so long this beautiful morning?" continued the innocent girl. "Don't you see the dew is almost dried away in the sun, and the morning-glories are nearly all closed?"

"I was lingering in the garden among the delicate flowers you gave me Mary; and the green and golden humming-birds charmed me so that I could not tear myself away," replied our hero, as he sat down between the brother and sister.

"I shall go with brother William on the cliff and get some wild roses and hare-bells, and then all your humming-birds will leave you and stay here with me," said Mary, smiling archly.