Confession; Or, The Blind Heart Part 33

The rude countryman encountered us, and his face beamed with cheerfulness and good humor. The song of the black softened the toils of labor, in the unfinished clearings; and even the wild red man, shooting suddenly from out the sylvan covert, wore in his visage of habitual gravity, an air of resignation which took all harshness from his uncouth features.

Such, under the tuition of well-satisfied hearts, was our mutual experience of the long journey which we had taken when we reached the end of it. This we did in perfect safety. We found our friend, Kingsley, prepared for and awaiting us. He had procured us pleasant apartments in a neat cottage in the suburbs, where we were almost to ourselves. Our landlady was an ancient widow, without a family. She occupied but a single apartment in her house, and left the use of the rest to her lodgers. This was an arrangement with which I was particularly gratified. Her cottage lay half way up on the side of a hill which was crowned with thick clumps of the n.o.blest trees. Long, winding, narrow foot-paths, carried us picturesquely to the summit, where we had a bird's-eye view of the town below, the river beyond--now darting out from the woods and now hiding securely beneath their umbrage--and fair, smooth, lawn-looking fields, which glowed at the proper season with the myriad green and white pinnies of corn and cotton. At the foot of the cottage lay a delightful shrubbery, which almost covered it up from sight. It was altogether such a retreat as a hermit would desire. It reminded me somewhat of the lovely spot which we had left. A pleasant walk of a mile lay between it and the town where I proposed to practice, and this furnished a necessity for a certain degree of exercise, which, being unavoidable, was of the most valuable kind. Altogether, Kingsley had executed his commission with a taste and diligence which left me nothing to complain of.

He was delighted at my coming.

"You are nearer to me now," he said; "will be nearer at least when I get to Texas; and I do not despair to see you making tracks after me when I go there."

"But when go you?"

"Not soon. I am in some trouble here. I am pleading and being impleaded.

You are just come in season to take up the cudgels for me. My landrights are disputed--my t.i.tles. You will have something of a lawsuit to begin upon at your earliest leisure."

"Indeed! but what's the business?"

He gave me a statement of his affairs, placed his papers in my hands, and I found myself, on inspecting them, engaged in a controversy which was likely to give me the opportunity which I desired, of appearing soon in cases of equal intricacy and interest. Kingsley had some ten thousand dollars in land, the greater part of which was involved in questions of t.i.tle and pre-emption, presenting some complex features, and likely to occasion bad blood among certain trespa.s.sers whom it became our first duty to oust if possible. I was a.s.sociated with a spirited young lawyer of the place; a youth of great natural talent, keen, quick intellect, much readiness of resource, yet little experience and less reading. Like the great ma.s.s of our western men, however, he was a man to improve. He had no self-conceit--did not delude himself with the idea that he knew as much as his neighbor; and, consequently, was pretty certain to increase in wisdom with increase of years. He had few prejudices to get over, and though he knew his strength, he also knew his weakness. He felt the instinct of natural talent, but he did not deceive himself on the subject of his deficient knowledge. He was willing to learn whenever he could find a teacher. His name was Wharton. I took to him at once. He was an ardent, manly fellow--frank as a boy--could laugh and weep in the same hour, and yet was as firm in his principles, as if he could neither laugh nor weep. As an acquaintance he was an acquisition.

Kingsley was delighted to see me, though somewhat wondering that I should give up the practice at home, where I was doing so well, to break ground in a region where I was utterly unknown. He gave me little trouble, however, in accounting to him for this movement. It was not difficult to persuade him--nay, he soon persuaded himself--that something of my present course was due to his own counsel and suggestion. To a man, like himself, to whom mere transition was pleasure, it needed no argument to show that my resolve was right.

"Who the d--l," he exclaimed, "would like always to be in the same place? Such a person is a mere cipher. We establish an intellectual superiority when we show ourselves superior to place. A genuine man is always a citizen of the world. It is your vegetable man that can not go far without grumbling, finding fault with all he sees, talking of comforts and such small matters, and longing to get home again. Such a man puts me in mind of every member of the cow family that I ever knew.

He is never at peace with himself or the world, but always groaning and thrusting out his horns, until he can get back to his old range, and revel in his native marsh, joint-gra.s.s, and cane-tops. Englishmen are very much of this breed. They go abroad, grumble as they go, and if they can not carry their cane-tops with them, afflict the whole world with their lamentations. I take it for granted, Clifford, that this step to Alabama, is simply a step toward Texas. Your next will be to New Orleans, and then, presto, we shall see you on the Sabine."

"I hope not," said my wife. "You have got us into such comfortable quarters here, Mr. Kingsley, that I hope you will do nothing to tempt my husband farther. Go farther and fare worse, you know. Let well enough alone."

"Oh. I beseech you!--two proverbs at a time will be fatal to one or other of us. Perhaps both. But he can not fare worse by going to Texas."

"He will do well enough here."

"Perhaps."

"Recover your lands, for example, as a beginning."

"Ah! now you would bribe me. That is certainly a suggestion to make me keep my tongue, at least until the verdict is rendered. 'Till then, you know, I shall make no permanent remove myself."

"But do you mean to go before the trial?" I asked.

"Yes, for a couple of months or so. I should only get into some squabble with my opponents by remaining here; and I may be preparing for all of us by going in season. I will look out for a towns.h.i.+p, Mrs. Clifford, on the edge of some beautiful prairie, and near some beautiful river. Your husband has a pa.s.sion for water prospects, I can tell you, and would become a misanthrope without them. I am doubtful if he will be happy, indeed, if not within telescope distance from the sea itself. I don't think that a river will altogether satisfy him."

"Oh yes, THIS must;" and as she spoke she pointed to the fair gla.s.sy surface of the Alabama, as it stretched away, at intervals, in broad glimpses before our eyes.

"Well, we shall see; but I will make my preparations, nevertheless, precisely as if he were not likely to be content. I have formed to myself a plan for all of you. I must make a dear little colony of our own in Texas. We shall have a nest of the sweetest little cottages, each with its neat little garden. In the centre we shall have a neat little playground for our neat little children; on the hill a neat little church; in the grove a neat little library; on the river a neat little barge; and over this neat little empire, you, Lady Clifford, shall be the neat little empress."

"Dear me! what a neat little establishment!"

"It shall be all that, I a.s.sure you; and it shall have other advantages.

You shall have a kingdom free from taxes and wars. There shall be no law-givers but yourself. We shall have no elections except when we elect our wives, and the women shall be the only voters then. We shall have no custom houses--everything shall be free of duty;--we shall have no banks--everything shall be free of charge;--we shall have no parson, for shall we not be sinless?"

"But what will you do with the neat little church?"

"Oh! that we shall keep merely to remind us of what is necessary in less fortunate communities."

"Very good; but how, if you have no parsons, will you perform the marriage ceremony?"

"That shall be a natural operation of government. The voters having given their suffrages, you shall determine and declare with whom the majority lies, and give a certificate to that effect. The first choice will lie with the damsel having the highest number of votes; the second with the next; and so on to the end of the chapter; and then elections are to take place annually among the unmarried--the ladies being the privileged cla.s.s as I said before. You will keep a record of these events, the names of parties, and so forth; and this record shall be proof, conclusive to conviction, against any party falling off from his or her duties."

"Quite a system. I do not deny that our s.e.x will have some new privileges by this arrangement."

"Unquestionably. But you have not heard all. We shall have no doctors, for we shall have no diseases in the beautiful world to which I shall carry you. We shall have no lawyers, for we shall have no wrangling."

"Indeed; but what is my husband to do then?"

"Why, he is your husband. What should he do? He takes rank from you. You are queen, you know. He will have no need of law."

"There's reason in that; but how will you prevent wrangling where there are men and women?"

"Oh, by giving the women their own way. The government is a despotism--you are queen--surely you will make no further objection to so admirable a system?"

In good-humored chat like this, in which our landlady, Mrs.

Porterfield--a lady who, though fully sixty-five years of age, was yet of a cheery and chatty disposition--took considerable part, our first evening pa.s.sed away. Though fatigued, we sat up until a tolerably late hour, enlivened by the frank spirit of our friend, Kingsley, and inspired by the natural feeling of curiosity which our change of situation inspired It was midnight before we solicited the aid of sleep.

CHAPTER XL.

THE BLACK DOG ONCE MORE UPON THE SCENE.

The next day was devoted to an examination of our premises and the neighborhood. The result of this examination was such as to render us better satisfied with the change that we had made. We were still young enough to be sensible to the loveliness of novelty. Everything wore that purple light which the eye of youth confers upon the object. And then there was repose. That hara.s.sing strife of the "blind heart" was at rest. I had no more suspicions; and my wife looked and spoke as if she had never had either doubts of me, or fears of herself, within her bosom. I was happiness itself, when, by the unreserved ease and gayety of her deportment she persuaded me that she suffered no regrets. I little fancied how much the change in my wife's manner had arisen from the involuntary change which had been going on in mine. I now looked the love which I felt; and she felt, in the improvement of my looks, the renewal of that fond pa.s.sion which I had never ceased to feel, but which I had only too much ceased to show while suffering from the "blind heart." She resumed her old amus.e.m.e.nts with new industry. Our little parlor received constant accessions of new pictures. All our leisure was employed in exploring the scenery of the neighborhood; and not a bit of forest, or patch of hill, or streak of rivulet or stream, to which the genius of art could lend loveliness, but she picked up, in these happy rambles, and worked into fitting places upon our cottage walls.

Our good old hostess became attached to us. She virtually surrendered the management of the household to my wife. She was old and quite infirm; and was frequently confined for days to her chamber; which must have been a solitary place enough before our coming. My wife became a companion to her in these periods of painful seclusion, and thus provided her with a luxury which had been long denied her. Under these circ.u.mstances we had very much our own way. The old lady had few a.s.sociates, and these were generally very worthy people. They soon became our a.s.sociates also, and under the influence of better feelings than had governed me for a long time past, I now found myself in a condition of comfort, cheerfulness, and peace, which I fancied I had forfeited for ever.

Two weeks after our arrival, Kingsley took his departure for Texas, on a visit. He proposed to be absent two months. His object, as he had described it before, in some pleasant exaggerations, was to select some favorable spots for purchase, which should combine as nearly as possible the three prime requisites of salubrity, fertility, and beauty. His object was to speculate; "and this was to be done," he said, "at an early hour of the day." "The Spanish proverb," he was wont to say, "which regulates the eating of oranges, is not a bad rule to govern a man in making his speculations. Speculations (oranges) are gold at morning, silver at noon, and lead at night. It is your wise man," he added, "who buys and sells early; your merely sensible man who does so at midday; while your dunce, waiting for an increased appet.i.te at evening, swallows nothing but lead."

I was in some respects a very fortunate man. If I had been a wise one!

It has been seen that I was singularly successful in business at my first beginning in my native city. I had not been long in the town of M--, before I began to congratulate myself on the prospect of like fortune attending me there. The affairs of Kingsley brought me into contact with several men of business. My letters of introduction made me acquainted with many more; not simply of the town, but of the neighboring country. My ardency of temper was particularly suited to a frank, confiding people, such as are most of the southwestern men; and one or two accidental circ.u.mstances yielded me professional occupation long before I expected to find it. I had occasion to appear in court at an early day, and succeeded in making a favorable impression upon my hearers. To be a good speaker, in the south and southwest, is to be everything. Eloquence implies wisdom--at least all the wisdom which is supposed to be necessary in making lawyers and law-makers--a precious small modic.u.m of a material by no means precious. I was supposed to have the gift of the gab in moderate perfection, and my hearers were indulgent. My name obtained circulation, and, in a short time, I discovered that, in a professional as well as personal point of view, I had no reason to regret the change of residence which I had made.

Business began to flow in upon me. Applications reached me from adjoining counties, and though my fees, like the cases which I was employed in, were of moderate amount, they promised to be frequent, while my clients generally were very substantial persons.

It will not need that I should dwell farther on these topics. It will be sufficient to show that, in worldly respects, I was as likely to prosper in my new as in my past abode. In social respects I had still more reason to be gratified. The days went by with me as smoothly as with Thalaba. My wife was all that I could wish. She was the very Julia whom I had married. Nay, she was something more--something better. Her health improved, and with it her spirits. She evidently had no regrets. A sigh never escaped her. Her content and cheerfulness were wonderful. She had none of that vague, vain yearning which the feeble feel, called "home-sickness." She convinced me that I was her home--the only home that she desired. It was evident that she thought less of our ancient city than I did myself. I am sure that if either of us, at any moment, felt a desire to look upon it again, the person was myself. I maintained a correspondence with the place--received the newspapers, groped over them with persevering industry--nay--missed not the advertis.e.m.e.nts, and was disappointed and a discontent on those days when the mail failed.

My wife had no such appet.i.te. She sometimes read the papers, but she appeared to have no curiosity; and, with the exception of an occasional letter which she received from her mother, she had no intercourse whatever with her former home.

All this was calculated to satisfy me. But this was not all. If gentleness, sweetness, cheerfulness, and a sleepless consideration of one's wants and feelings, could convince any mortal of the love of another--I must have been satisfied. We resumed most of the habits which began with our marriage, but which had been so long discontinued. We rose with the sun, and went abroad after his example. Like him we rose to the hill-tops, and then descended into the valleys. We grew familiar with the deepest shades of wood and forest while the dewdrops were yet beading the bosoms of the wild flowers; and we followed the meandering course of the Alabama, long before the smoking steamer vexed it with her flas.h.i.+ng paddles. My professional toils from breakfast to dinner-time--for this interval I studiously gave to my office, even if I had little to do there--occasioned the only interregnum which I knew in the positive pleasures which I enjoyed. In the afternoon our enjoyments were renewed. Our cottage was so sweetly secluded, that we did not need to go far in order to find the Elysian grove which we desired. At the top of our hill we were surrounded by a natural temple of proud pines--guarding the spot from any but that sort of devine and religious light which streams through the painted windows of the ancient cathedral. The gay glances of the sun came gliding through the foliage in drops, and lay upon the gra.s.s in little pale, fanciful gleams, most like eyes of fairies peeping upward from its velvety tufts. Here we read together from the poets--sometimes Julia sung, even while sketching.

Not unfrequently, Mrs. Porterfield came with us, and, at such times, our business was to detect distant glimpses of barge, or steamboat, as they successively darted into sight, along such of the glittering patches of the Alabama as were revealed to us in its downward progress through the woods.

Our evenings were such as hallow and make the luxury of cottage life--evenings yielded up to cheerfulness, to content and harmony.

Between music, and poetry, and painting, my heart was subdued to the sweetest refinements of love. Without the immorality, we had the very atmosphere of a Sybarite indulgence. I was enfeebled by the excess of sweets; and the happiness which I felt expressed itself in signs. These denoted my presentiments. My apprehensions were my sole cause of doubt and sorrow. How could such enjoyments last? Was it possible, with any, that they should last? Was it possible that they should last with me? I should have been mad to think it.

But, in the sweet delirium which their possession inspired, I almost forgot the past. The soul of man is the most elastic thing in nature.

Those hara.s.sing tortures of the heart which I had been suffering for months--those weary days of exhausting doubt--those long nights of torturing suspicion--the shame and the fear, the sting of jealousy, and the suffering--I had almost forgotten in the absorbing pleasures of my new existence. If I remembered them it was only to smile; if I thought of William Edgerton it was only to pity;--and, as for Julia, deep was the crimson shadow upon my cheek, whenever the reproachful memory reminded me of the tortures which I had inflicted upon her gentle heart while laboring under the tortures of my own--when I thought of the unmanly espionage which I had maintained over conduct which I now felt to be irreproachable.