Mabel's Mistake Part 66

"I wonder Mrs. Harrington does not select more comfortable chairs for her room," he muttered, looking around uneasily for something more commodious to rest in. "I will call at King's to-morrow, and order one of his latest inventions--a Voltaire or Sleepy Hollow; no wonder she wanders off for better accommodation. The fire is down in my library, so I must wait for her here. Let me see if there is anything more promising in the next room."

He went into the sleeping chamber as he spoke, and threw himself upon a couch near the window; but it was so remote from the fire that he soon grew cold, and started up again. Removing Mabel's night robe from the bed, he flung himself upon it, gathering the counterpane over him, and burying his head in the frilled pillows.

"She cannot come in without waking me, that is certain," he murmured, dreamily; "so this is the best place to wait in. I did not think the cold could have chilled me through all those furs. Ah! this is comfortable; I can wait for madam with patience now, with, wi"----

Spite of his anxiety, the old gentleman dropped off to sleep here, with a luxurious sense of comfort. That was a quiet and profound sleep, notwithstanding the old man had many sins unrepented of.

CHAPTER LXXVII.

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER.

About an hour after General Harrington drove up to his stables, with such a clash of bells, and stole from it so noiselessly, there came another sleigh along the high road, the very one which had borne Lina French to her wretched city home. Noiselessly as it had moved that stormy night, the sleigh crept toward General Harrington's dwelling. At the cross of the roads it made a halt, and out from the pile of furs stepped a female, mantled from head to foot, who set her foot firmly upon the snow, and, with a wave of her hand, dismissed the sleigh, which, turning upon its track, glided like a shadow into the darkness again.

The woman stood still till the sleigh was out of sight; then gathering the cloak about her, walked rapidly towards the house. As General Harrington had done, she opened the door with a latch-key, and glided into the darkened vestibule. Her tread left no sound on the marble, and she glided on through the darkness like a shadow, meeting no one, and apparently so well acquainted with the building that light was unnecessary. At length she paused opposite a door, opened it cautiously, and entered a dusky chamber, lighted only by a small lamp that was so shaded that a single gleam of light shot across the floor, leaving the rest in darkness. A bed stood in this room with a low couch, on which Agnes Barker was sleeping. The woman took up the lamp, allowing a stream of light to fall upon her face, at the same moment it revealed that of the holder, which shone out hard as iron, and with a grey pallor upon it.

"Is it you?" exclaimed the girl, starting up and putting back the hair from her face. "Have you found him? Has he returned? Why can't you speak to me? Where is Ralph Harrington?"

"Agnes!"

"Well," answered the girl, impatiently.

"It is useless pursuing this infatuation longer. The time has come when you must learn to command yourself. You are my daughter!"

"I don't believe it!" answered the girl, angrily.

"Have you ever known any other parent?"

"I never had any parent!"

"Who placed you at school? who paid for your education?"

"I don't know--your mistress, I dare say, who was ashamed of my birth, and made you her agent. I have always believed so and believe it yet."

"Agnes, you are my own child. I call on Heaven to witness it!"

"I am not fool enough to believe you."

"You would have the poor thing separated from young Harrington, and I had no other way of appeasing your unreasonable demands, being your mother."

"Well, at any rate they are separated, and I am not married to James the millionaire, which was your wish; so, after all, I do not come out second best in a fair trial of strength, you see."

"I do not wish your marriage with James Harrington, and Ralph you can never hope for."

"You think so!" answered the girl, with a vicious sneer. "You fancy that one rebuff will crush me. I neither know nor care who told you that he has met my love with scorn, fled my presence as if I were a viper on his father's hearth. I tell you he shall return. I have a will that shall yet bend his love to mine though it were tougher than iron. Woman, I say again, Ralph Harrington shall yet be my lawfully wedded husband!"

"Girl, I tell you again, and with far better reasons, it can never be!"

cried Zillah, towering over her as she sat upon the couch.

"It shall be!" almost hissed the girl, meeting the black eyes bent upon her with glances of sullen wrath.

"Not till the laws permit brothers and sisters to marry!" answered Zillah. "For I call upon the living G.o.d to witness that you are General Harrington's child!" Her face hardened and grew white, as the secret burst from her lips; for she saw the shudder and heard the shriek that broke from her child.

"His and yours?" questioned Agnes, pale as death.

"His and mine!"

"And you were a slave?"

"_His_ slave."

Agnes started up, tossing her hands wildly in the air.

"A n.o.ble parentage--a thrice n.o.ble parentage!" she cried out, hoa.r.s.e with pain and rage. "The child of a villain, and his slave! Woman, I could tear you into atoms, for daring to pour your black blood into my life!"

Zillah drew back, pale and aghast. She could not speak.

"Ah, now I know why this flesh crept, and the blood fell back upon my heart, when that vicious old man was near! My life rose up against the outrage of its own being. I tell you, woman, if this man is my father, I _hate_ him!"

"And me," faltered Zillah, shuddering.

"And you, negro-slave that you are."

"I am neither a negro or a slave," answered Zillah, recovering a portion of her haughtiness; "the taint of my blood has died out in yours. Look on me, unfeeling girl, and say where you find a trace of the African--not in this hair, it is straight and glossy as Mabel Harrington's--not on my forehead, see how smooth it is--not in my heart or brain, for when did an African ever have the mind to invent, or the courage to carry out, the designs that fill my brain? I tell you, girl, your mother has neither the look nor the soul of a slave; but she has will, and power, and a purpose, too, that shall lift her child so high, that the whitest woman of her father's race will yet be proud to render her homage!"

"Dreaming, dreaming!" exclaimed Agnes, scornfully.

CHAPTER LXXVIII.

A STORMY PARTING.

Zillah drew her tall form to its full height.

"Dreaming!" she said. "No. This is the time for us to act; no, not us--you shall have nothing of this but the advantage. You are my child, his child, and I love you; therefore, let all the risk, and sin, and pain be mine. You shall have nothing but the power and the gold. Listen, girl, you should not marry James Harrington, now, though he wished it; he is no match for you--he is penniless as this boy Ralph, your half-brother. Do not shrink and look at me so wildly, but learn to hear the truth. This boy is your brother, and his son; for that reason he must not want, when you and I have our rights; out of the property which was once James Harrington's, we must persuade the General to give the young man a few thousands; as for James, let him remain the beggar his romantic folly has left him.

"Agnes, your father, General Harrington--your father! impress the word on your soul, child--your father is now master of everything; while he lives, James Harrington is penniless. To-morrow, we shall reign in Mabel Harrington's house. You look surprised, you ask me how all this has been brought about. Listen: you remember the vellum book which you stole for me, out of her escritoire. Well, it contained many secrets, but not the one I wanted most--not enough to make Mabel Harrington an outcast. I lived with her in her youth, and knew how much she loved this priestly Harrington--and, when his mother died, hoped that he would marry her; but she was too wealthy. The General wanted her money, and, in defiance of my anger and my tears, made her his wife. I rebelled, threatened, grew mad, and to save himself, this man, whom I loved better than my own soul, persuaded me back to the plantation, and sold me! You turn pale, even you look shocked. For a time, I could have torn him to atoms, like a tiger when food is scarce; for the love that had been so deep and fiery, turned to hate: but wrong does not uproot a pa.s.sion like mine. He had sold me into a double bondage--his child was the slave of another man; yet every wish of my soul struggled to his feet again--in that I _was_ a slave.

"Yes, bend your eyes upon me, and curve your lips with that unspoken taunt; at least, I was not the slave of a boy! Sit still, sit still, I say! it is no use flinging your tiger glances at me; I have no time for quarreling. While I was his slave, General Harrington's liberality had no bounds, and, dreading the time when it might cease, I h.o.a.rded a large sum of money, more than enough to buy myself a dozen times over. I was about to enter into a bargain with my new master for myself and child, when he died, setting us free by his will.

"I waited, worked, saved, adding gold to gold, till years came between me and the man who had owned and sold me; dulling the influence of that woman, and turning my pa.s.sion into a power.