Jane Talbot Part 27

She offered to conduct me to her then. It was easy to effect an interview without Mrs. Fielder's knowledge; but I was sick of all clandestine proceedings, and had promised Mrs. Fielder not to seek another meeting with her daughter. I was likewise anxious to visit Miss Jessup, and ascertain what was to be done by means of the letter in my pocket.

Can I, my friend,--can I, without unappeasable remorse, pursue this scheme of a distant voyage? Suppose some fatal despair should seize my friend. Suppose--it is impossible. I will not stir till she has had time to deliberate; till resignation to her mother's will shall prove a task that is practicable.

Should I not be the most fragrant of villains if I deserted one that loved me? My own happiness is not a question. I cannot be a selfish being and a true lover. Happiness, without her, is indeed a chimerical thought; but my exile would be far from miserable, while a.s.sured of her tranquillity, and possession would confer no peace, if she whom I possessed were not happier than a different destiny would make her.

Why have all these thoughts been suspended for the last two days? I had wrought myself up to a firm persuasion that marriage was the only remedy for all evils; that our efforts to regain the favour of her mother would be most likely to succeed when that which she endeavoured to prevent was irretrievable. Yet that persuasion was dissipated by her last letter.

_That_ convinced me that her lot would only be made miserable by being united to mine. Yet now, is it not evident that our fates must be inseparable?

What a fantastic impediment is this aversion of her mother! And yet, can I safely and deliberately call it fantastic? Let me sever myself _from_ myself, and judge impartially. Be my heart called upon to urge its claims to such affluence, such love, such treasures of personal and mental excellence, as Jane has to bestow. Would it not be dumb? It is not so absurd as to plead its devotion to her as an atonement for every past guilt, and as affording security for future uprightness.

On my own merit I am, and ever have been, mute. I have plead with Mrs.

Fielder, not for myself, but for Jane. It is her happiness that forms the object of my supreme regard. I am eager to become hers, because _her_, not because _my_ happiness, though my happiness certainly _does_, demand it.

I am then resolved. Jane's decision shall be deliberate. I will not bias her by prayers or blandishments. Her resolution shall spring from her own judgment, and shall absolutely govern me. I will rivet myself to her side, or vanish forever, according to her pleasure.

I wish I had written a few words to her by Molly, a.s.suring her of my devotion to her will. And yet, stands she in need of any new a.s.surances?

She has banished me. I am preparing to fly. She recalls me, and it is impossible to depart.

I must go to Miss Jessup's. I will take up the pen ('tis my sole amus.e.m.e.nt) when I return.

I went to Miss Jessup's; her still sealed letter in my pocket; my mind confused, perplexed, sorrowful; wholly undetermined as to the manner of addressing her, or the use to be made of this important paper. I designedly prolonged my walk, in hopes of forming some distinct conception of the purpose for which I was going, but only found myself each moment sinking into new perplexities. Once I had taken the resolution of opening her letter, and turned my steps towards the fields, that I might examine it at leisure; but there was something disgraceful in the violation of a seal, which scared me away from this scheme.

At length, reproaching myself for this indecision, and leaving my conduct to be determined by circ.u.mstances, I went directly to her house.

Miss Jessup was unwell; was unfit to see company; desired me to send up my name. I did not mention my name to the servant, but replied I had urgent business, which a few minutes' conversation would despatch. I was admitted.

I found the lady in a careless garb, reclining on a sofa, wan, pale, and of a sickly aspect On recognising me, she a.s.sumed a languidly-smiling air, and received me with much civility. I took my seat near her. She began to talk:--

"I am very unwell; got a terrible cold, coming from Dover; been laid up ever since; a teasing cough, no appet.i.te, and worse spirits than I ever suffered. Glad you've come to relieve my solitude; not a single soul to see me; Mrs. Talbot never favours a body with a visit. Pray, how's the dear girl? Hear her mother's come; heard, it seems, of your intimacy with Miss Secker; determined to revenge your treason to her G.o.ddess; vows she shall henceforth have no more to say to you."

While waiting for admission, I formed hastily the resolution in what manner to conduct this interview. My deportment was so solemn, that the chatterer, glancing at my face in the course of her introductory harangue, felt herself suddenly chilled and restrained:--

"Why, what now, Colden? You are mighty grave, methinks. Do you repent already of your new attachment? Has the atmosphere of Philadelphia reinstated Jane in all her original rights?"

"Proceed, madam. When you are tired of raillery, I shall beg your attention to a subject in which your honour is deeply concerned; to a subject which allows not of a jest."

"Nay," said she, in some little trepidation, "if you have any thing to communicate, I am already prepared to receive it."

"Indeed, Miss Jessup, I _have_ something to communicate. A man of more refinement and address than I can pretend to would make this communication in a more circuitous and artful manner; and a man less deeply interested in the establishment of truth would act with more caution and forbearance. I have no excuse to plead, no forgiveness to ask, for what I am now going to disclose. I demand nothing from you but your patient attention while I lay before you the motives of my present visit.

"You are no stranger to my attachment to Mrs. Talbot. That my pa.s.sion is requited is likewise known to you. That her mother objects to her union with me, and raises her objections on certain improprieties in my character and conduct, I suppose, has already come to your knowledge.

"You may naturally suppose that I am desirous of gaming her favour; but it is not by the practice of fraud and iniquity, and therefore I have not begun with denying or concealing my faults. Very faulty, very criminal, have I been; to deny that would be adding to the number of my transgressions: but I a.s.sure you, Miss Jessup, there have been limits to my follies; there is a boundary beyond which I have never gone. Mrs.

Fielder imagines me much more criminal than I really am, and her opinion of me--which, if limited in the strictest manner by my merits, would amply justify her aversion to my marriage with her daughter--is, however, carried further than justice allows.

"Mrs. Fielder has been somewhat deceived with regard to me. She thinks me capable of a guilt of which, vicious as I am, I am yet incapable. Nay, she imagines I have actually committed a crime of which I am wholly innocent.

"What think you, madam," (taking her hand, and eyeing her with steadfastness;) "she thinks me at once so artful and so wicked that I have made the wife unfaithful to the husband; that I have persuaded Mrs. Talbot to forget what was due to herself, her fame, and to trample on her marriage-vow.

"This opinion is not a vague conjecture on suspicion. It is founded in what seems to be the most infallible of all evidence; the written confession of her daughter. The paper appears to be a letter which was addressed to the seducer soon after the guilty interview. This paper came indirectly into Mrs. Fielder's hands. To justify her charge against us, she has shown it to, us. Now, madam, the guilt imputed to us is a stranger to our hearts. The crime which this letter confesses never was committed, and the letter which contains the confession never was written by Jane. It is a forgery.

"Mrs. Fielder's misapprehension, so far as it relates to me, is of very little moment. I can hope for nothing from the removal of this error while so many instances of real misconduct continue to plead against me, but her daughter's happiness is materially affected by it, and for her sake I am anxious to vindicate her fame from this reproach.

"No doubt, Miss Jessup, you have often asked me in your heart, since I began to speak, why I have stated this transaction to you. What interest have you in our concerns? What proofs of affection or esteem have you received from us, that should make you zealous in our behalf? Or what relation has your interest in any respect to _our_ weal or woe? Why should you be called upon as a counsellor or umpire in the little family dissensions of Mrs. Talbot and her mother?

"And do indeed these questions rise in your heart, Miss Jessup? Does not memory enable you to account for conduct which, to the distant and casual observer, to those who know not what _you_ know, would appear strange and absurd?

"Recollect yourself. I will give you a moment to recall the past. Think over all that has occurred since your original acquaintance with Mrs.

Talbot or her husband, and tell me, solemnly and truly, whether you discern not the cause of his mistake. Tell me whether you know not the unhappy person whom some delusive prospect of advantage, some fatal pa.s.sion, has tempted to belie the innocent."

I am no reader of faces, my friend. I drew no inferences from the confusion sufficiently visible in Miss Jessup. She made no attempt to interrupt me, but quickly withdrew her eye from my gaze; hung her head upon her bosom; a hectic flush now and then shot across her check. But these would have been produced by a similar address, delivered with much solemnity and emphasis, in any one, however innocent.

I believe there was no anger in my looks. Supposing her to have been the author of this stratagem, it awakened in me not resentment, but pity.

I paused; but she made no answer to my expostulation. At length I resumed, with augmented earnestness, grasping her hand:--

"Tell me, I conjure you, what you know. Be not deterred by any self- regard; but, indeed, how can your interest be affected by clearing up a mistake so fatal to the happiness of one for whom you have always professed a friendly regard?

"Will your own integrity or reputation be brought into question? In order to exculpate your friend, will it be necessary to accuse yourself?

Have you been guilty in withholding the discovery? Have you been guilty in contriving the fraud? Did your own hand pen the fatal letter which is now brought in evidence against my friend? Were you yourself guilty of counterfeiting hands, in order to drive the husband into a belief of his wife's perfidy?"

A deadly paleness overspread her countenance at these words. I pitied her distress and confusion, and waited not for an answer which she was unable to give.

"Yes, Miss Jessup, I well know your concern in this transaction. I mean not to distress you; I mean not to put you to unnecessary shame; I have no indignation or enmity against you. I came hither not to injure or disgrace you, but to confer on you a great and real benefit; to enable you to repair the evil which your infatuation has occasioned. I want to relieve your conscience from the sense of having wronged one that never wronged you.

"Do not imagine that in all this I am aiming at my own selfish advantage. This is not the mother's only objection to me, or only proof of that frailty she justly ascribes to me. To prove me innocent of this charge will not reconcile her to her daughter's marriage. It will only remove one insuperable impediment to her reconciliation with her daughter.

"Mrs. Fielder is, at this moment, not many steps from this spot. Permit me to attend you to her. I will introduce the subject. I will tell her that you come to clear her daughter from an unmerited charge, to confess that the unfinished letter was taken by you, and that, by additions in a feigned hand, you succeeded in making that an avowal of abandoned wickedness, which was originally innocent, at least, though perhaps indiscreet."

All this was uttered in a very rapid but solemn accent. I gave her no time to recollect herself; no leisure for denial or evasion. I talked as if her agency was already ascertained; and the feelings she betrayed at this abrupt and unaware attack confirmed my suspicions.

After a long pause, and a struggle, as it were, for utterance, she faltered out, "Mr. Colden, you see I am very sick: this conduct has been very strange. Nothing,--I know nothing of what you have been saying. I wonder at your talking to me in this manner: you might as well address yourself in this style to one you never saw. What grounds can you have for suspecting me of any concern in this transaction?"

"Ah, madam," replied I, "I see you have not strength of mind to confess a fault. Why will you compel me to produce the proof that you have taken an unauthorized part in Mrs. Talbot's concerns? Do you imagine that the love you bore her husband, even after his marriage, the efforts you used to gain his favour, his contemptuous rejection of your advances,--can you imagine that these things are not known?

"Why you should endeavour to defraud the wife of her husband's esteem, is a question which your own heart only can answer. Why you should watch Mrs. Talbot's conduct, and communicate your discoveries, in anonymous letters and a hand disguised, to her mother, I pretend not to say. I came not to inveigh against the folly or malignity of such conduct. I came not even to censure it. I am not ent.i.tled to sit in judgment over you. My regard for mother and daughter makes me anxious to rectify an error fatal to their peace. There is but one way of doing this effectually, with the least injury to your character. I would not be driven to the necessity of employing _public_ means to convince the mother that the charge is false, and that you were the calumniator; means that will humble and disgrace you infinitely more than a secret interview and frank confession from your own lips.

"To deny and to prevaricate in a case like this is to be expected from one capable of acting as you have acted; but it will avail you nothing. It will merely compel me to have recourse to means less favourable to you. My reluctance to employ them arises from regard to you, for I repeat that I have no enmity for you, and propose, in reality, not only Mrs. Talbot's advantage, but your own."

I cannot paint the alarm and embarra.s.sment which these words occasioned. Tears afforded her some relief, but shame had deprived her of all utterance.

"Let me conjure you," resumed I, "to go with me this moment to Mrs.

Fielder. In ten minutes all may be over. I will save you the pain of speaking. Only be present while I explain the matter. Your silent acquiescence will be all that I shall demand."

"Impossible!" she exclaimed, in a kind of agony; "I am already sick to death! I cannot move a step on such a purpose. I don't know Mrs. Fielder, and can never look her in the face."

"A letter, then," replied I, "will do, perhaps, as well. Here are pen and paper. Send to her, by me, a few lines. Defer all circ.u.mstance and comment, and merely inform her who the author of this forgery was. Here,"