Natalie A Gem Among the Sea-Weeds Part 14

"Do not call it a wicked world; it is a beautiful world, which G.o.d has given us to live in!"

"Ah, missy, if oder white folks like you, I 'specks it be jus no world at all; it be all one great heaben!"

"But what is this mark upon the handkerchief?" asked Natalie, for she had seen a fac-simile of the little device, upon old Vingo's bandanna, which he used to lend her when she was a child, and she had handled it so carefully, because he had told her that it was the most valuable thing he owned in the world, beside his Bible, and she had looked up into his face, with her great blue eyes, and asked him what the two little crooked marks were made to represent; and he had told her they were to represent himself and his poor Phillis, for they were bent with the sorrows of the world; and now, here were the same crooked marks, wrought upon the corner of this black woman's handkerchief, which she seemed to treasure so much! What could it mean? Natalie looked upon it in astonishment.

"Where did you get this?" she asked.

"My poor ole man gabe it to me, de last time I sees him, and he takes anoder like it, and say, 'Phillis, we will keep dem; dey's not quite as 'spressive as de garultypes ob missus's, but when you sees dat, you may know dat old Bingo am tinking ob you."

"And do you ever think to meet him again?" asked Natalie, without betraying her emotion at such a discovery.

"Oh, missy, if he know anyting about heaven, I might 'speck to meet him dar; but we not know anyting 'bout dat good place den, and I 'specks he am clean used up by dis time; clean gone, widout eber hearin' ob de good Lor'!"

"And your children,--you have never forgotten them?"

"No, missy, I neber forgets dem, and though dey brack as dar mammy, I lub dem as much as dat pure creter dar; and I takes dem in my arms, and press dem to my heart de same, but I rudder be called to part wid dem, dan dat such as she hab to gib up her chilen, for 'pears like I can bear it better, cause I's brack."

"My good woman, you have a forgiving spirit for your oppressors, and, thank G.o.d, I have it in my power to make two of my fellow mortals happy.

What should you say, if I were to tell you where you may find your husband?"

The woman looked at her, without speaking a word.

"Your husband is alive and well; and faithful old Vingo is at this moment in my mother's family, where his wants, spiritual and temporal, are cared for; and he has often told me, if he could but once again see his wife, Phillis, he should die happy."

The woman gave one long, piercing cry, and sank upon the floor. At this instant the artist issued from an adjoining apartment, and stood gazing upon the scene.

"My G.o.d! what do I see?" exclaimed the gentleman, in a voice which instantly riveted the Sea-flower's attention upon him.

"Tell me! in mercy tell me who thou art!" and he leaned against a column for support.

Had Natalie been heir to that weakness which is somewhat characteristic of the gentler s.e.x, she might have been terrified at such deep, impa.s.sioned language from a perfect stranger, trembling with the certainty that she stood face to face with a lunatic; but no such fear was hers. Advancing, she bowed low, in honor to his superior age, saying, "pardon me, if I am an intruder here; yet, sir, an apology is needless, for who can resist the grace and beauty which is here displayed? My presence, sir, has evidently disturbed you, and if you will permit me to ask one question, I will retire;--the Madonna, that face of an angel, is she the pure production of your own soul, or can it be that such as she has indeed been amongst us?"

"She has been, and has pa.s.sed away!--has pa.s.sed away," he repeated to himself; "I never thought to meet her again until the dark river had been crossed! but what do I see?" and he pa.s.sed his hand over his eyes, as if to a.s.sure himself that he were not dreaming.

No, it was no dream; a gentle, living form stood before him who had sorrowed for his only child nearly twenty long years, and was devoutly regarding those inanimate features to which his soul had clung, as if it were of life; and his eye now wandered from the animate to the inanimate,--the beauteous countenance of the Madonna. It was not unlike that of the Sea-flower; the features were the same. Regaining his composure, the artist proceeded, in a peculiarly mellow tone of voice--

"Dear lady, you will pardon my seemingly ill-mannered reception of you, I know, when you have heard what has never yet pa.s.sed my lips to any mortal! Near twenty years have expired since I left my cherished home, on the other side of the Atlantic, and came to America. I met with sorrow at an early age; the young wife of my choice was taken from me, and I should have been overwhelmed with grief, had not the precious boon left to me by her, claimed my heart-felt love; the beautiful babe smiled upon me, and I felt rebuked in spirit that I should thus murmur at G.o.d's will, when in his loving kindness he had spared to me this, her very likeness, and I came to smile again. I could then smile upon his chastening rod, but,"--and a deep shudder thrilled his frame, "I have since been led to ask myself if there is a G.o.d! O! can a good G.o.d thus afflict his children?"

"Pause, sir, I beseech you, ere you give utterance to such dreadful thoughts! Think of the countless mercies which you have received at his hand,--weigh them well in a balance with your sorrows, whatever they may have been, and you will find the measure of your blessings tenfold."

"Your words are as balm to my calloused heart; yet listen to me, and judge if my cruel fate would not engender a dark distrust in a purer heart than mine. My child grew in strength and beauty,--grew to be like her who had left us; she was the pride of my luxuriant home, the main spring of my life! Yes, I could realize it then, while I could yet gaze upon her face and dream of heaven; but other days drew near. It was in her twentieth year when my Natalie knelt before the altar--a bride. She had given her hand to a n.o.ble-hearted American gentleman, upon whom I looked as being worthy of my darling's choice; and as she placed one hand within his, she took the hand of her father with the other, and whispered,--'you now give your daughter to another, yet it shall only serve to bind me still closer to my father.' I was happy then; and when two years later, I pressed my daughter to my heart, and bade her adieu, for the first time, without a thought that it might be the last, I was happy; and when I pressed a kiss on the cheek of her infant child, and grasped the hand of my n.o.ble son, her husband, I was happy; for so full was my cup of joy, that I had forgotten the drop of bitterness which I had tasted therefrom. But, alas! it was not so full to overflowing that there was not room for the draught that was to be my portion. They sailed for America, to visit his home, when, after the settlement of his estate in this Western world, they would return to make glad their father's home; that day has not yet come! A year elapsed, and I had no tidings of them, yet I would not permit the thought to dwell with me that I should never hear from them more, and another year pa.s.sed on before the despair entered my soul, which has been to me a burning flame ever since. I gave my possessions to the keeping of another, and left my native Italy, to cross the deep, if I might learn of the fate of my children. I went to the place he had told me was his home, but I met with only strangers there. I inquired for the n.o.ble vessel in which my child had sailed; she had not belonged on this coast, and thus were my earnest inquiries repulsed, day after day, with a heartless--'we can give you no information.' I travelled from place to place, in hopes to get some clue to the mystery which hung around my lost ones; but, alas, that was not to be! I sought in vain. It was then a change came over me; I hardly knew myself. I concealed my name, and lived a recluse, never disclosing to any one the history of my sorrows. But I could not live thus, and I endeavored to divert my mind from this state of frenzy, by making use of the talent, for which, in my heart of stone, I would not thank my G.o.d for bestowing upon me! And so I have lived, as you find me,--'the unknown artist.' It is needless to add, the beautiful Madonna, which was never designed for the rude gaze of public curiosity, is the likeness of my child; and though I had no other than the impress of her features upon my heart, to guide my trembling hand, yet I have got a soul upon that canvas! Sometimes I have fancied that some good angel had not forgotten me, and had breathed _her_ soul into those pure eyes!"

"And the child?" asked Natalie, in a suppressed breath, scarcely above a whisper.

"Her child was but a tiny babe; her features were not sufficiently developed to leave its memory on my mind; yet they told me the little creature was like her mother. This, the Madonna's child, is from life.

In my wanderings I visited the island of Nantucket. I spent some little time there, as I found the great hearts of those people more congenial to my weary spirits, than the chilling air of avarice, which, in a measure, marks this western world. One morning, as I strolled along the sh.o.r.e, looking out upon the sea, depressed in spirits, I observed a pretty sight not far from me; an old negro sat upon the beach, and by his side an infant, some eighteen months old, with her arms clasped about the neck of a large Newfoundland dog, while her eyes, which were of the blue of heaven, were fixed upon the waves which rolled and broke in harmless ripples at her feet. She was a beauteous child. I have never seen another upon whom I could look, as the little angel that had gone.

I traced her beautiful features, as I was so fortunate as to have pencil and paper by me, and was about to pa.s.s on, when I observed the brother of the child approaching; he was a n.o.ble little fellow, with the air of a young prince, and I never shall forget his proud answer, when I asked him of his sister,--'We call her Sea-flower, sir, for she came to us from G.o.d, and he smiles upon each little flower, as it lifts up its head, all trembling with dew.' I breathed a blessing upon them both, for they had drawn a tear from my heart of stone."

"Sir," said Natalie, as he paused, "Nantucket is my home; often have I listened to my dear brother, as he has told me the pretty story of the sad gentleman whom he met, when I was but an infant, and how he spoke to me so tenderly, and sighed for his own Natalie. I had no other name then but Sea-flower, and I have been called by that name ever since; yet after that day, my Christian name was Natalie."

The artist gazed upon her, and pointing to the Madonna, exclaimed,--"Thou art the child! you are like the Madonna! Can it be that I have unconsciously restored to the mother her child? None other than her own could thus resemble her!"

"In my innermost heart there has ever dwelt a mystery, which I can find no language to describe! In my dreams I have had sweet visions of a beauteous being, who has smiled upon me, and made me happy. The Madonna awakens all those pure feelings, and I cannot but look upon her as in some way connected with my being; yet my own mother lives, and my affection for her is as for no other being upon the earth."

"_She_ is in heaven," mused the artist.

At this moment the door opened, and who should enter but Clarence Delwood, who was much surprised to find Natalie thus unattended, in earnest conversation with the mysterious artist. She arose as he entered, and presented him to the gentleman, but she had not yet learned his name. The artist presented his card to Delwood, a.s.suming the same frigid manner which had become his nature. Delwood gave one glance at the Madonna.

"How is this, sir," asked he, in an excited manner, "that you have made use of this lady's face to attract the notice of a vulgar public to your works? Who gave you authority for such a.s.surance as this, sir?"

"Calm yourself, Clarence," said the Sea-flower, mildly, "the gentleman had never seen me, to his knowledge, until this morning. It rather becomes us to apologize for this intrusion upon the sacred memory of his child."

Mr. Delwood listened with astonishment to the information which we have just learned, and his eyes wandered from the beautiful Madonna to the no less beautiful being, whom he hoped, at no distant day, to call his own, while a thought filled his soul with delight, and he said to himself,--"I knew that she was infinitely above me, though outward circ.u.mstances would make her of no particular distinction."

"Yes, there is a meaning in this, a mystery to be solved. Who is she?--this pure being. And your mother still lives," mused the artist; "do you resemble her?"

"I am unlike any one of my family, so much so that strangers have noted it."

"And your father?"

"Is in heaven."

"Truly," mused the gentleman, "and your sainted mother likewise."

"Permit me to ask your address, gentle lady," said the artist, as his visitors prepared to retire.

"And in return you will allow me to come every day, and look upon this dear face?"

"You are the only person whom I have bade a welcome to my presence for years;" and bidding them a "good morning," the artist retired to brood over other than his sorrows.

It was then that Natalie remembered the poor black woman, though not a thought of the object of her own visit thither, crossed her mind. The woman was silently contemplating the Sea-flower, as if she were an angel of mercy.

"Where do you live, my good woman?" inquired Natalie.

"One spot am not my home more dan anoder, missy; de wide earth am my home. But tell me, missy, did ole Phillis hear you straight, or am she so warped troughout, dat she hot get de right comprehensions?"

"What I have told you, you may rely upon; come here in a day or two again, and you shall hear farther."

"Bress de Lor'! bress de good Lor', for sending de bright angel!"

shouted the woman, as she ran out of the house, throwing about her long arms, (now freed from slavery's chains,) and making sundry other uncouth manifestations of her joy, so characteristic of her race, which caused a policeman to realize the dignity of his station, by actually opening one eye, and puffing diligently at the cloud of tobacco smoke which encircled the other.

A week later, and Natalie received a letter from her mother, in reply to her account of her visit to the mysterious artist. It ran thus:--

"MY DEAR DAUGHTER,--It was with joy, mingled with a shade of sadness, that I perused your last. Not that you, my innocent child, could impart other than pleasure to the meanest of weak mortals, yet it brought afresh to my mind a subject, which, though it marks one of the happiest moments of my life, owing to peculiar circ.u.mstances,--the memory of my dear husband being closely a.s.sociated therewith,--brings to my heart, also, a shadow of grief. That which I would say has to do with yourself, my daughter, yet I cannot commission my pen to the revealing of this long-buried secret. I would tell you with my own lips, of the mystery which hangs around your birth, for I would seal the tale with a mother's kiss, looking upon my foster-child for an a.s.surance of love undiminished. You must now come home to us. I can bear this separation no longer. The time has come when our dear little Sea-flower, for so many years the suns.h.i.+ne of our home, shall test the strength of her affection for those who will ever regard her--a blessing from that heavenly sh.o.r.e. Say to the author of the Madonna and child, that I would earnestly wish that he may accompany you home, as he may be informed of that which so nearly concerns his happiness. Adieu, my daughter, until I shall see you once more. From your affectionate mother."

Natalie folded the letter, and repeating aloud, "can I ever love my mother less?" she leaned her head upon her hand, and wept.

The day drew near when the Sea-flower, accompanied by Mr. Alboni, (for such was the name of the gentlemanly artist,) and Clarence Delwood, should seek her island home. This was anything but a pleasant antic.i.p.ation for Winnie, for since her mother's death she had learned to lean upon Natalie, though younger than herself, and had received from her in times of trial, such sweet counsel as would sink into her heart, giving her new strength, making her a wiser and a better being. In the time which Natalie had been in the Santon family, there had been a perceptible change in the character of the beautiful coquettish heiress.

Those blemishes which the faithful mother had discovered, upspringing in her daughter's youthful heart, marring her otherwise lovable character, had been erased; not that she had lost in any degree that gay, cheery openness of heart which we love so well to meet,--she was yet the Winnie Santon of days which had known no lowering skies, the singing bird of a June morning,--save that an occasional plaintive note, breathed out upon youth's freshness of life's realities.