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Mary stole away to Mrs. Carlton to impart the good news; Dr. Bryant had already communicated it. Warmly she sympathized with them in again meeting an old friend; but Mary heeded not her words, for her eyes were riveted on Frank's stern brow and slightly curling lip. A mist rose before her, and catching for support at the tent, she would have fallen, had not his strong arm encircled her; and soon she lay motionless in her tent. He stood and looked on her a moment, then knelt and clasped the cold hands. Mary had not swooned, though well-nigh insensible, and a low moan of anguish escaped her lips, colorless, and writhing with pain.
"Can I do nothing for you?"
"No, thank you; only do not tell Florry and Mr. Stewart I am ill. It would only damp the joy of their meeting."
He left her, and met the lovers as they sought the remainder of the party. He understood at a glance the position of affairs, and with the sad conviction that Mary loved Mr. Stewart, and loved him in vain, he strove to repress his emotion and appear as usual.
Florence withdrew her hand from Mr. Stewart's clasp, and, with a deep blush, pa.s.sed Frank in order to reach the tent. He placed himself before it.
"Miss Hamilton, I can't allow any one to disturb your cousin; she is almost exhausted by our long ride, and I forbid all company, as she needs rest and quiet."
"I will not disturb her in the least, I a.s.sure you, Doctor." But he persisted, and she was forced to form one of the circle that now gathered round the fire.
Mr. Stewart, in answer to Dr. Bryant's inquiries, replied that he had long felt anxious to visit San Antonio, but had been detained at home by important business till within a few weeks, when he set out for Austin, and obtaining there a sort of guide and companion, was hastening on, hoping to reach the former place ere the arrival of the Mexican forces.
"Having heard," continued he, "that Mr. Hamilton's death left his family somewhat unprotected, I felt particularly anxious on their account. Seeing your camp-fire, attracted us in this direction, and happy am I to meet so many old friends."
To Florence he had been far more explicit, detailing the causes which produced a most fortunate change in his circ.u.mstances, and his immediate determination to seek her in her Western home.
"You will return with us to Was.h.i.+ngton then, Stewart, as we possess the treasure you are in search of?"
"Yes, if none of the party offer any objection," replied he.
"I don't know that any feel disposed to act so ungratefully: suppose we inquire however. Miss Hamilton, have you any objection to receiving, as an escort and protector, this amiable cavalier, who has wandered so far from home to offer his services?"
"Frank, it is hardly fair to make her speak for the party; some may differ with her, on so important a point."
"You seem quite certain as to her sentiments on this subject. Upon my word, Miss Florence, if I were you, I should most a.s.suredly take this occasion to teach him a little humility; for instance, just tell him it makes no difference with you--that it is perfectly immaterial."
"In following your advice, Doctor, the responsibility will be inevitably transferred to yourself; and I must thank you for so politely relieving me."
"I see no reason, Stewart, why you should not join our party, and lend your a.s.sistance toward enlivening the tedious hours yet in store for us; though only a few more days of travel remain, thank Heaven."
"One would suppose, from the fear of ennui which seems to cloud your future, that Mary and I had not succeeded so happily as we imagined, in our efforts to entertain you."
"Pardon me, Miss Florence, if I have failed duly to appreciate your kind efforts; though candor compels the avowal, that I was not aware any extraordinary exertion was made in my behalf."
"Really, Frank, I should say you have made considerable progress in raising yourself in your own estimation since last I heard you converse. Mrs. Carlton, I am afraid this climate is unfavorable for the growth of at least two of the cardinal virtues."
"Your insinuation is contemptible, because utterly without grounds.
Miss Florence, I appeal to you, as worthy the privilege of acting as umpire in this important discussion. Have you ever observed aught in my conduct indicating a want of humility?"
"Unfortunately, Doctor, should I return an answer in your favor, it would be at the expense of a virtue equally ent.i.tled to pre-eminence."
"To the very candid Miss Hamilton, I must return thanks for her disinterested and very flattering decision."
Here the conversation was interrupted by a call to the evening meal, and gladly they obeyed the welcome summons.
Florence glancing round perceived the absence of her cousin, and inquired the cause.
"I dare say she is asleep, poor child," said Aunt Lizzy.
"She is trying to rest, Miss Hamilton, and I would not advise any interruption. She needs quiet, for she was sorely tried by this day's fatigues," observed Dr. Bryant.
"I am afraid so," replied Florence, an anxious look again settling on her face. "Oh, I wish on her account we could reach a place of rest and safety. I fear she has failed in strength since leaving San Antonio."
"How sadly changed she has become: had she not spoken in her old, familiar tones, I should not have known her. I earnestly hope there is nothing serious in her attack, and that she will soon regain her former bloom; it pains me to see her so altered," said Mr. Stewart.
"She cannot possibly improve while subjected to the fatigues of this journey. I feared she was scarce able to endure it," answered Frank.
The conversation turned on more agreeable topics, and soon--by all but Frank, who could not forget her look of anguish--she was for a time forgotten.
Mary heard from her couch of suffering the cheerful blending of voices, though nothing distinct reached her ear; and as none approached to soothe her by affectionate inquiries, a sense of neglect stole over her. But too habitually accustomed to judge gently of others and forget herself, it pa.s.sed quickly away. She knelt on her pallet, and clasping her thin hands, raised her heart to G.o.d, in the low, feeble tone of one well-nigh spent:
"My G.o.d, thou readest my heart! Thou knowest how, day by day, I have striven to love thee more and serve thee better. Yet, oh, Father of mercies! my soul is tortured with unutterable agony! Oh! on the verge of the tomb, my heart still clings to earth and its joys. Look down in thy mercy upon me, and help me to fix my thoughts on heaven and thee.
For long I have known the vanity of my hope, and the deceitfulness of human things; yet I could not tear away the pleasing image, and turn to thee alone for comfort. Oh, may peace be my portion the few days I have to live, and when death comes, be thou with me, my G.o.d, to comfort and take me soon to my home above."
She sank back in very weariness. "Oh, Frank, how could you so mistake me?--you whom I have loved so long, how could you believe I loved another?"
In the clear sunny light of morning, how cheerful all things looked; and to a heart at peace with G.o.d, nature seemed rejoicing. The deep blue vault arching inimitably above--the musical murmuring of the creek, as it rushed along its rocky bed--the mosquit, bent and glittering with its frosty mantle, blended with the blazing camp-fire and the busy hum of preparation for the day, stole pleasingly into the heart. All the party, save Mary, stood about the fire, warming their fingers and chatting on the various occurrences of their long journey.
All paused to welcome the invalid, as she joined them with a slow, feeble step; yet she looked better than she had done since leaving her home. Restlessly she had tossed on her hard couch, and now the hectic flush mantled the thin cheek and brightened the deep blue eyes. The warm congratulations of her friends on her improved appearance brought a sad smile to her lip, and the expression of Dr. Bryant's countenance told her that he at least realized her danger. Never had Florence looked more beautiful, as the clear cold air brought the glow to her cheek, added to the effect of her mourning dress and the expression of quiet happiness, imparting an indescribable charm to her lovely features.
"As you now stand, Miss Florence, looking so earnestly toward the east, you seem to me a perfect realization of Willis's Jephtha's Daughter:
"'She stood before her father's gorgeous tent, To listen for his coming. Her loose hair Was resting on her shoulder, like a cloud Floating around a statue, and the wind Just swaying her light robe, revealed a shape Praxiteles might wors.h.i.+p: Her countenance was radiant with love: She looked to die for it--a being whose Whole existence was the pouring out Of rich and deep affections.'"
As he looked upon her these lines were uttered half unconsciously; and then turning to Mary, he gently asked if he might speak what was pa.s.sing in his mind.
"Certainly, Frank--continue your quotation; the lines never seemed so beautiful before;" said Mr. Stewart, glancing at Florence as he spoke.
"Doubtless not, Stewart, because never so applied. Miss Hamilton, your cousin looks more as did the Jewish maiden at close of evening:
"'Her face was pale, but very beautiful; her lip Had a more delicate outline, and the tint Was deeper. But her countenance was like the Majesty of Angels.'"
"Dr. Bryant, is it possible you so far forget yourself and previously expressed opinions, as to make quotations? I thought you a sworn foe to the practise."
"On ordinary occasions, I am: and you may rest a.s.sured it is the last time I commit such an absurdity by a camp fire. I think you once asked me my objection--will you hear it now? When I was quite young, I one day read an anecdote of the celebrated Greek professor, Dr. Porson, which gave me a strong bias against quotations, particularly locating them, which necessarily follows. Porson was once traveling in a stage-coach, when a young Oxonian, fresh from college, was amusing some ladies with quite a variety of small talk, among other things a quotation from Sophocles, as he said. A Greek quotation in a stage-coach roused Porson, who half slumbered in a quiet corner.
'Young gentleman,' said he, 'I think you indulged us, just now, with a quotation from Sophocles; I don't happen to remember it there.'--'Oh, sir,' rejoined the tyro, 'the quotation is word for word, and in Sophocles too.' The professor handed him a small edition of Sophocles, and requested him to point out the pa.s.sage. After rummaging about for some time, he replied: 'Upon second thought the pa.s.sage is in Euripides.' 'Then,' said Porson, handing him a similar edition of Euripides, 'perhaps you will be so kind as to find it for me in this little book.' Our young gentleman returned unsuccessfully to the search, with the very pleasant cogitation of 'Curse me, if ever I quote Greek again in a stage-coach,' The t.i.ttering of the ladies increased his confusion, and desperate at last, he exclaimed--'Bless me, how dull I am; I remember now perfectly that the pa.s.sage is in aeschylus. The incorrigible professor dived again into his apparently bottomless pocket, and produced an edition of aeschylus; but the astounded Oxonian exclaimed, 'Stop the coach! Halloa! coachman, let me out instantly; there is a fellow inside here that has got the whole Bodleian library in his pocket. Let me out, I say--it must be Porson or the devil!' Now previous to reading this anecdote, I must confess to quite a _penchant_ for quotations, but I a.s.sure you a full year elapsed ere I ventured on another; and for a long time the ghost of our gentleman appeared, specter-like, before me, whenever I attempted one."
When the merriment subsided, Mr. Stewart asked if it was not of this same professor that a phrenologist remarked, on examining his skull, that "the most important question was, how the ideas found access to the brain--once inside, and there are very solid reasons to prevent their getting out again."
"Yes, the same. Craniologists admit, I believe, that his was the thickest skull ever examined; and it is related that when he could no longer articulate English, he spoke Greek with fluency."
In a few moments the camp was broken up, and they proceeded on their way. Mary cast a longing glance toward her horse, now mounted by one of the servants, and was taking her seat in the wagon, when Dr. Bryant said:
"Would you like to try your horse a little while this morning? If it proves too fatiguing, you can return to the wagon."