Martin Farquhar Tupper - The Twins
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Martin Farquhar Tupper >> The Twins
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"Black, with _no_ virtue, and a thousand crimes."
The amiable villain--one whose generosity redeems his guilt, whose
kindliness outweighs his folly, or whose beauty charms the eye to
overlook his baseness--this too common hero is an object, an example
fraught with perilous interest. Charles Duval, the polite; Paul
Clifford, the handsome; Richard Turpin, brave and true; Jack Sheppard,
no ignoble mind and loving still his mother; these, and such as these,
with Schiller's '_Robbers_' and the like, are dangerous to gaze on, as
Germany, if not England too, remembers well. But, not more true to life,
though far less common to be met with, is Julian's incorrigible mind:
one, in whose life are no white days; one, on whose heart are no bright
spots; when Heaven's pity spoke to him, he ridiculed; as, when His
threatenings thundered, he defied. Of this world only, and tending to a
worse appetite was all he lived for: and the core of appetite is iron
selfishness.
The filched cash-box proved to be too well-filled for him to trouble
himself with thinking of his mother yet awhile: and his smuggling
acquaintances, a rough-featured, blasphemous crew, set him as their
chief, so long as he swore loudest, drank deepest, and had money at
command. He hid the money, that they should not secretly steal from him
that to which he owed his bad supremacy; and his double-barrels, shotted
to the muzzle, were far too formidable for any hope of getting at it by
open brute force. Nevertheless, they were "fine high-spirited" fellows
those, bold, dark men, of Julian's own kidney; who toasted in their cups
each other's crimes, and the ghost or two that ought to have been
haunting them.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CONVALESCENCE.
VERY slowly did Emily recover, for the blow had been more than she could
bear: nothing but religion gave her any chance at all: and the phials,
blisterings, bleedings, would have been in vain, in vain--she must have
died long ago--had it not been for the remembrance of God's love,
resignation to His will, and trust in the wisdom of his Providence. But
these specific remedies gradually brought her round, while the kind-eyed
doctors praised their own prescriptions: and after many rallyings and
relapses, delirious ramblings, and intervals of hallowed Christian
peace, the eye of Love's meek martyr brightened up once more, and health
flushed again upon her cheek.
She recovered, God be praised! for her death would have been poor
Charles's too; and the same grave that yawned for her and him would have
closed upon their father also. Even as it was, when she arose from off
the weary bed of sickness, it was to be a nurse herself, and watch
beside that patient, weak old man. He could not bear her out of his
sight all the fever through; but eagerly would listen to her hymns and
prayers, joining in them faintly like a dying saint. With the saddening
secret, which had so long pressed upon his mind, he seemed to have
thrown off his old nature, as a cast skin: and now he was all frankness
for reserve, all piety for profaneness, all peacefulness for blusterings
and wrath.
He remembered then poor Julian and his mother: taking blame to himself,
justly, deeply, for neglected duties, chilling lack of sympathy, and
that dull domestic sin, that still continued evil of unnatural
omissions--stern reserve. And he would gladly have seen Julian by his
bedside, to have freely forgiven the lad, and welcomed him home again,
and begun once more, in openness and charity, all things fair and new:
but Julian was not to be found, though rewards were offered, and
placards posted up, and emissaries from the Detective Police-force
sought him far and wide. Alas! the bold bad man had heard with scorn of
his father's penitence, and knew that he would gladly have received
him;--but what cared he for kindnesses or pardons? He only lived to
waylay Emily.
As for Mrs. Tracy, she was seldom in a state to appear; but one day she
managed to refrain a little, and came to see her husband, almost sober.
I was, authorially speaking, behind the door, and saw and heard as
follows:
The old man, worn and emaciate, was weakly sitting up in bed, and Emma
by his side, with the Bible in her lap: she casually shut it as the
mother entered.
"Well, Miss Warren, there's a time for all things; but this is neither
morning, noon, nor night: nor Sunday either, nor holiday, that I know
of; it's eleven o'clock on Tuesday, Miss--and I think you might as well
leave the general at peace, without troubling him for ever with your
prayer-books and your Bibles."
"Jane, my dear, I requested it of Emily; come and sit by me, and take my
hand, wife."
"Thank you, sir, you are very obliging: not while that young woman is in
the room.--You ought to be ashamed of yourself, General Tracy."
Poor Emmy ran away to weep. It seems that, in her delirium, she had
spoken many things, and the servants blabbed them out to Mrs. Tracy.
"Ah, my poor wife, indeed I am: both ashamed and sorry--heartily sorry.
But God forgives me, Jenny, and I hope that you will too."
"Upon, my word, general, you carry it off with a high hand: and, not
content, sir, with insulting me in my own home by bringing here your
other women's children, you have expelled poor dear, dear Julian."
"Jane, if you will remember, he ran away himself; and you know that now
I gladly would receive him: we are all prodigal sons together, and if
God can bear with us, Jane, we ought to look kindly on each other."
"Ha! that's always the way with old sinners like you--canting
hypocrites! Be a man, General Tracy, if you can, and talk sense. I never
did any harm or sin in all my life yet, and don't intend to: and my
poor boy Julian's well enough, if they'd only let him alone; but nobody
understands his heart but me. Good boy, I'm sure there's virtue enough
left in him, if he loves his mother."--_If_ he loves his mother.
"Jane, dear, I sent for you to kiss you; for I could not die in peace,
nor live in peace (whichever God may please), without your pardon, Jane,
for a thousand unkindnesses--but, especially for the sin that gave me
Emily. Forgive me this, my wife."
"Never, sir!" rejoined that miserable mind; and fancied that she was
acting virtuously. She thrust aside the kindly proffered hand; scowled
at him with darkened brow; drew up her commanding height; and, calling
Mrs. Siddons to remembrance, brushed away in the indignant attitude of a
tragedy queen.
Emmy ran again to her father, and the vain bad mother to her bottle; we
must leave them to their various avocations.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CHARLES DELAYED.
FEW things could well be more unlikely than that Emily should hear of
Charles again before she saw him: for, having left Madras as speedily as
might be, now that his mission was so easily, yet so naturally,
accomplished--having posted, as we know, his overland letter--and having
got on board the fast-sailing ship Samarang, Captain Trueman, Charles,
in the probable course of things, if he wrote at all, must have been his
own postman. But the Fates--(our Christianity can afford to wink now and
then at Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos; for, at any rate, they are as
reasonable creatures as Chance, Luck, and Accident,)--the Fates willed
it otherwise: and, accordingly, it is in my power to lay before the
reader another genuine lucubration of Charles Tracy.
A change had come over the spirit of their dream, those youthful lovers:
and agonizing doubt must rack their hearts, threatening to rend them
both asunder. It is evident to me that Charles's letter (which Emily
showed to me with a melancholy face) was on principle less warm, less
dottable with stars, and more conversant with things of this world;
high, firm, honourable principle; intending very gently, very gradually,
to wean her from him, if he could; for his faith in Jeanie Mackie had
been shaken, and--but let us hear him tell us of it all himself.
"I.E.M. Samarang. St. Helena.
"You will wonder, my dear Emily, to hear again before you see me: but I
am glad of this providential opportunity, as it may serve to prepare us
both. Naturally enough you will ask, why Charles cannot accompany this
letter? I will tell you, dear, in one word--Mrs. Mackie is now lying
very ill on shore; and, as far as our poor ship is concerned, you shall
hear about it all anon. Several of the passengers, who were in a hurry
to get home, have left us, and gone in the packet-boat that takes you
this letter: gladly, as you know, would I have accompanied them, for I
long to see you, poor dear girl; but it was impossible to leave the old
woman, upon whom alone, under God, our hopes of earthly happiness
depend: if, alas! we still can dream about such hopes.
"Oh, Emily--I heartily wish that, having finished my embassage by that
instantaneous finding of the old Scotch nurse, I had never been so
superfluous as to have left those letters of introduction, wherewith you
kindly supplied me, in an innocent wish to help our cause. But I felt
solitary too, waiting at Madras for the next ship to England; and in my
folly, forgetful of the single aim with which I had come, Jeanie Mackie,
to wit, I thought I might as well use my present opportunities, and see
what I could of the place and its inhabitants.
"With that view, I left my letters at Government House, at Mr.
Clarkson's, Colonel Bunting's, Mrs. Castleton's, and elsewhere,
according to direction; and immediately found answer in a crowd of
invitations. I need not vex you nor myself, Emmy, writing as I do with a
heavy, heavy heart, by describing gayeties in which I felt no pleasure,
even when amongst them, for my Emmy was not there: splendour,
prodigality, and red-hot rooms, only made endurable by perpetually
fanning punkahs: pompous counsellors, authorities, and other men in
office, and a glut of military uniforms: vulgar wealth, transparent
match-making, and predominating dullness: along with some few of the
charities and kindnesses of life (Mrs. Bunting, in particular, is an
amiable, motherly, good-hearted woman), all these you will readily fancy
for yourself.
"My trouble is deeper than any thing so slight as the common satiations
of _ennui_: for I have heard in these circles in which your--my--the
general, I mean, chiefly mixed, so much of that ill-rumour that it
cannot all be false: they knew it all, and were certain of it all, too
well, Emily, dear. And I have been pestering Nurse Mackie night and day;
but the old woman is so afraid of being left behind any where, or thrown
overboard, or dropped, upon some desert rock, that she is quite cross,
and won't say a single word in answer, even when I tell her all these
terrible tales. Her resolution is, not to reveal one syllable more,
until she sets foot on England; and several people at Madras annoyed me
exceedingly by saying, that this kind of thing is an old trick with
people who wish to be sent home again. She has hidden away her papers
somewhere; not that I was going to steal them: but it shows how little
trust she puts in any thing, or any one, except the keeping of her own
secret. However, she does adhere obstinately, and hopefully for us, to
her original hint, 'you are not what he thinks you;' although she will
not condescend to any single proof, or explanation, against the mighty
mass of evidence, which probabilities, and common rumour, and the
general's own belief, have heaped together. When I call you Emmy,
too--the old soul, in her broad Scotch way, always corrects me, and
invokes a blessing upon 'A-amy:' so there is a mystery somewhere: at
least, I fervently hope there is: and, if the old woman has been playing
us false, let us resign ourselves to God, my girl; for our fate will be
that matters are as people say they are--and then my old black
postscript ends too truly with a wo, wo, wo--!
"But I must shake off all this lethargy of gloom, dearest, dearest
girl--how can I dare to call you so? Let me, therefore, rush for comfort
into other thoughts; and tell you at once of the fearful dangers we have
now mercifully escaped; for the Samarang lies like a log in this
friendly port, dismasted, and next to a wreck.
"I proceed to show you about it; perhaps I shall be tedious--but I do it
as a little rest, my own soul's love, from anxious, earnest,
heart-distracting prayers continually, continually, that the sorrow
which I spoke of be not true. Sometimes, a light breaks in, and I
rejoice in the most sanguine hope: at others, gloom--
"But a truce to all this, I say. Here shall follow didactically the
cause why the good ship Samarang is not by this time in the Docks.
"We were lying somewhere about the tropical belt, Capricorn you know,
(O, those tender lessons in geography, my Emmy!) quite becalmed; the sea
like glass, and the sky like brass, and the air in a most stagnant heat:
our good ship motionless, dead in a dead blue sea it was
'Idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean.'
"The sails were hanging loosely in the shrouds: every one set, from
sky-scraper to stud-sail, in hopes to catch a breath of wind. My
fellow-passengers and the crew, almost melted, were lying about, as weak
as parboiled eels: it was high-noon, all things silent and subdued by
that intolerable blaze; for the vertical sun, over our multiplied
awnings and umbrellas, burnt us up, fierce as a furnace.
"I was leaning over the gangway, looking wistfully at the cool, clear,
deep sea, wherefrom the sailors were trying to persuade a shark to come
on board us, when, all at once, in the south-east quarter, I noticed a
little round black cloud, thrown up from the horizon like a
cricket-ball. As any thing is attractive in such sameness as perpetual
sea and sky, my discovery was soon made known, and among the first to
our captain.
"Calling for his Dolland, and bidding his second lieutenant run quick to
the cabin and look at the barometer, he viewed the little cloud in
evident anxiety, and shook his head with a solemn air: more than one
light-hearted woman thinking he was quizzing them.
"Up came Lieutenant Joyce, looking as if he had seen a ghost in the
cabin.
"'The mercury, sir, is falling just as rapidly as it would rise if you
plunged it into boiling water: an inch a minute or so!"
"Our captain saw the danger instantly, and, brave as Trueman is, I never
saw a man look paler.
"To drive all the passengers below, and pen them in with closed hatches
and storm-shutters, (so hot, Emmy, that the black-hole of Calcutta must
have been an ice-house to it: how the foolish people abused our wise
skipper, and more than one pompous old Indian threatened him with an
action for false imprisonment!) this huddling away was the first effort;
and simultaneously with it, the crew were all over the rigging, furling
sails, hurriedly, hurriedly.
"Meanwhile (for I was last on deck), that little cloud seemed whirling
within itself, and many others gathered round it, all dancing about on
the horizon, as if sheaves of mischief tossed about by devils: I don't
wish to be poetical, Emmy, for my heart is very, very sad; but if ever
the powers of the air sow the wind and reap the whirlwind, they were
gathering in their harvest at that door. Underneath the skipping clouds,
which came on quickly, leaping over each other, as when the wain is
loaded by a score of hands, I noticed a sea approaching, such as Pharaoh
must have seen, when the wall of waters fell upon him; and premonitory
winds came whistling by, and two or three sails were flapping in them
still, and I was hurried down stairs after all the rest of us.
"Then, on a sudden, it appeared not winds, nor waves, nor thunder, but
as if the squadroned cavalry of heaven had charged across the seas, and
crushed our battered ship beneath their horse-hoofs! We were flung down
flat on our beam ends; and the two or three unfurled sails, bursting
with the noise of a cannon, were scattered miles away to lee-ward as if
they had been paper. As for the poor fellows in the rigging, the spirit
of the storm had already made them his: twenty of our men were swept
away by that tornado.
"Then there was hewing and cleaving on deck, the clatter of many axes
and hatchets: for we were in imminent danger of being capsized, keel
uppermost, and our only chance was to cut away the masts.
"The muscles of courage were tried then, my Emmy, and the strength which
religion gives a man. I felt sensibly held up by the Everlasting Arms: I
could listen to the still small Voice in the midst of a crash which
might have been the end of all things: though in darkness, God had given
me light; though in uttermost peril, my peace was never calmer in our
little village school.
"And the billows were knocking at the poor ship's side like sledge
hammers; and the lightnings fell around us scorchingly, with forked
bolts, as arrows from the hand of a giant; the thunders overhead, close
overhead, crashing from a concave cloud that hung about us heavily--a
dense, black, suffocating curtain--roared and raved as nothing earthly
can, but thunder in the tropics; the rain was as a cataract, literally
rushing in a mass: the winds appeared not winds, nor whirlwinds, but
legions of emancipated demons shrieking horribly, and flapping their
wide wings; a flock of night-birds flying from the dawn; and all else
was darkness, confusion, rolling and rocking about, the screams of
women, the shouts of men, curses and prayers, agony, despair,
and--peace, deep peace.
"On a sudden, to our great astonishment, all was silent again,
oppressively silent; and, but for the swell upon the seas, all still.
The tornado had rushed by: that troop of Tartar horse, having sacked the
village, are departed, now in full retreat: the blackness and the fury
are beheld on our lee, hastening across the broad Atlantic to Cuba or
Jamaica: and behold, a tranquil temperate sky, a kindly rolling sea, a
favouring breeze, and--not a sail, but some slight jury-rig, to catch
it.
"Many days we drifted like a log upon the wave; provisions running
short, and water--water under tropical suns--scantily dealt out in
tea-cups. Then, poor old Mackie's health gave way; and I dreaded for her
death: one living witness is worth a cart-load of cold documents. So I
nursed and watched her constantly: till the foolish folks on board began
to say I was her son: ah! me, for your sake I wish it had been so.
"And at length, just as some among the sailors were hinting at a mutiny
for spirits, and our last case of Gamble's meat was opened for the sick,
our look-out on the jury-mast gave the welcome note of 'Land!' and soon,
to us on deck, the heights of St. Helena rose above the sea. Towed in by
friendly aid, here we are, then, precious Emily, refitting: and, as it
must be a week yet before we can be ready, I have taken my old woman to
a lodging upon land, and rejoice (what have I to do with joy?) to see
her speedily recovering."
The remainder of Charles's long letter is so stupid, so gloomy, so
loving, and so little to the purpose, that I take an editor's privilege,
and omit it altogether. Of course he was coming home again, as soon as
the Samarang and Jeanie Mackie would permit.
CHAPTER XXV.
TRIALS.
THE general recovered; as slowly, indeed, as Emily had, but it is
gratifying to add, as surely. And now that loving couple might be seen,
weakly creeping out together, when the day was finest: tottering white
December leaning on a sickly fragile May. There were no concealments now
between them, no reservings, and heart-stricken Emily heard from her
repentant father's lips the story of her birth: she was, he said, his
own daughter by a native princess, the Begum Dowlia Burruckjutli.
A bitter--bitter truth was that: the destruction of all her hopes,
pleasures, and affections. It had now become to her a sin to love that
dearest one of all things lovely on this earth: duty, paramount and
stern, commanded her, without a shadow of reprieve, to execute on
herself immediately the terrible sentence of banishing her own
betrothed: nay, more, she must forget him, erase his precious image from
her heart, and never, never see that brother more. And Charles must feel
the same, and do the like; oh! sorrow, passing words! and their two
commingled souls must be violently wrenched apart; for such love in them
were crime.
Dear children of affection--it is a dreadful lesson this for both of
you; but most wise, most needful--or the hand that guideth all things,
never would have sent it. Know ye not for comfort, that ye are of those
to whom all things work together for good? Know ye not for counsel, that
the excess of love is an idolatry that must be blighted? It is well,
children, it is well, that ye should thus carry your wounded hearts for
balm to the altar of God; it is well that ye should bow in meekness to
His will, in readiness to His wisdom. Ye are learning the lesson
speedily, as docile children should; and be assured of high reward from
the Teacher who hath set it you. Poor Charles! white and wan, thy cheek
is grown transparent with anxiety, and thy blue eye dim with hope
deferred: poor Emmy, sick and weak, thou weariest Heaven with thy
prayers, and waterest thy couch with thy tears. Yet, a little while;
this discipline is good: storm and wind, frost and rushing rains, are as
needful to the forest-tree as sun and gentle shower; the root is
strengthening, and its fibres spreading out: and loving still each other
with the best of human love, ye justly now have found out how to anchor
all your strongest hopes, and deepest thoughts, on Him who made you for
himself. Who knoweth? wisely acquiescing in His will, humbly trusting to
His mercy, and bringing the holocaust of your inflamed affections as an
offering of duty to your God--who knoweth? Cannot He interpose? will He
not befriend you? For His arm is power, and His heart is love.
Days rolled on in dull monotony, and grew to weeks more slowly than
before; earthly hopes had been levelled with the dust; life had
forgotten to be joyous: there was, indeed, the calm, the peace, the
resignation, the heavenly ante-past, and the soul-entrancing prayer; but
human life to Emily was flat, wearisome, and void; she felt like a nun,
immolated as to this world: even as Charles, too, had resolved to be an
anchorite, a stern, hard, mortified man, who once had feelings and
affections. The reaction in both those fond young hearts had even
overstept the golden mean: and Mercy interposed to make all right, and
to bless them in each other once again.
Only look at this _billet-doux_ from Charles, just come in, and dated
Plymouth:
"Huzzah--for Emily and England: huzzah for the land of freedom! no
secrets now--dear, dear old Jeanie Mackie has given me proofs positive:
all I have to wish is that she could move: but she is very ill; so, as
we touched here on the voyage up channel, I landed her and myself,
thinking to kiss, within a day, my darling Emmy. But I cannot get her
out of bed this morning, and dare not leave her: though an hour's delay
seems almost insupportable. If I possibly can manage it, I will bring
the dear old faithful creature, wrapped in blankets, by chaise
to-morrow. Tell my father all this: and say to him--he will understand,
perhaps, though you may not, my blessed girl--say to him, that 'he is
mistaken, and all are mistaken--you are not what they think you.' A
thousand kisses. Expect, then, on bright to-morrow to see your happy,
happy
"CHARLES."
"P.S. Hip! hip! hip!--huzzah!"
Dearest Emily had taken up the note with fears and trembling: she laid
it down, as they that reap in joy; and I never in my life saw any thing
so beautiful as her eyes at that glad minute; the smile through the
tear, the light through the gloom, the verdure of high summer springing
through the Alpine snows, the mild and lustrous moon emerging from a
baffled thunder-cloud.
And, although the general mournfully shook his head, distrustfully and
despondingly; though he only uttered, "Poor children--dear
children--would to Heaven that it could be so;"--and he, for one, was
evidently innoculated, as before, with all the old thoughts of gloom,
sadness, and anxiety;--still Emily hoped--for Charles hoped--and Jeanie
Mackie was so certain.
CHAPTER XXVI.
JULIAN.
NEXT day, a fine summer afternoon, when our feeble convalescents had
gone out together, they found the fresh air so invigorating, and
themselves so much stronger, that they prolonged their walk half-way to
Oxton. The pasture-meadows, rich and rank, were alive with flocks and
herds; the blue sea lazily beat time, as, ticking out the seconds, it
melodiously broke upon the sleeping shore; the darkly-flowing Mullet
swept sounding to the sea between its tortuous banks; and upon that old
high foot-path skirting the stream, now shady with hazels, and now
flowery with meadow-sweet, crept our chastened pair.
Just as they were nearing a short angle in the river, the spot where
Charles had been preserved, they noticed for the first time a
rough-looking fisherman, who, unseen, had tracked their steps some
hundred yards; he had a tarpaulin over his shoulder, very unnecessarily,
as it would seem, on so fine and warm a day; and a slouching
sou'-wester, worn askew, flapped across the strange man's face.
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