Arthur Mervyn; Or, Memoirs of the Year 1793 Read online

  CHAPTER XIII.

  Mervyn's pause allowed his auditors to reflect on the particulars of hisnarration, and to compare them with the facts with a knowledge of whichtheir own observation had supplied them. My profession introduced me tothe friendship of Mrs. Wentworth, by whom, after the disappearance ofWelbeck, many circumstances respecting him had been mentioned. Sheparticularly dwelt upon the deportment and appearance of this youth, atthe single interview which took place between them, and herrepresentations were perfectly conformable to those which Mervyn hadhimself delivered.

  Previously to this interview, Welbeck had insinuated to her that arecent event had put him in possession of the truth respecting thedestiny of Clavering. A kinsman of his had arrived from Portugal, bywhom this intelligence had been brought. He dexterously eluded herentreaties to be furnished with minuter information, or to introducethis kinsman to her acquaintance. As soon as Mervyn was ushered into herpresence, she suspected him to be the person to whom Welbeck hadalluded, and this suspicion his conversation had confirmed. She was at aloss to comprehend the reasons of the silence which he so pertinaciouslymaintained.

  Her uneasiness, however, prompted her to renew her solicitations. On theday subsequent to the catastrophe related by Mervyn, she sent amessenger to Welbeck, with a request to see him. Gabriel, the blackservant, informed the messenger that his master had gone into thecountry for a week. At the end of the week, a messenger was againdespatched with the same errand. He called and knocked, but no oneanswered his signals. He examined the entrance by the kitchen, butevery avenue was closed. It appeared that the house was wholly deserted.

  These appearances naturally gave birth to curiosity and suspicion. Thehouse was repeatedly examined, but the solitude and silence withincontinued the same. The creditors of Welbeck were alarmed by theseappearances, and their claims to the property remaining in the housewere precluded by Mrs. Wentworth, who, as owner of the mansion, waslegally entitled to the furniture, in place of the rent which Welbeckhad suffered to accumulate.

  On examining the dwelling, all that was valuable and portable,particularly linen and plate, was removed. The remainder was distrained,but the tumults of pestilence succeeded and hindered it from being sold.Things were allowed to continue in their former situation, and the housewas carefully secured. We had no leisure to form conjectures on thecauses of this desertion. An explanation was afforded us by thenarrative of this youth. It is probable that the servants, finding theirmaster's absence continue, had pillaged the house and fled.

  Meanwhile, though our curiosity with regard to Welbeck was appeased, itwas obvious to inquire by what series of inducements and events Mervynwas reconducted to the city and led to the spot where I first met withhim. We intimated our wishes in this respect, and our young friendreadily consented to take up the thread of his story and bring it downto the point that was desired. For this purpose, the ensuing evening wasselected. Having, at an early hour, shut ourselves up from all intrudersand visitors, he continued as follows.

  * * * * *

  I have mentioned that, by sunrise, I had gained the distance of manymiles from the city. My purpose was to stop at the first farm-house, andseek employment as a day-labourer. The first person whom I observed wasa man of placid mien and plain garb. Habitual benevolence was apparentamidst the wrinkles of age. He was traversing his buckwheat-field, andmeasuring, as it seemed, the harvest that was now nearly ripe.

  I accosted him with diffidence, and explained my wishes. He listened tomy tale with complacency, inquired into my name and family, and into myqualifications for the office to which I aspired. My answers were candidand full.

  "Why," said he, "I believe thou and I can make a bargain. We will, atleast, try each other for a week or two. If it does not suit our mutualconvenience, we can change. The morning is damp and cool, and thy plightdoes not appear the most comfortable that can be imagined. Come to thehouse and eat some breakfast."

  The behaviour of this good man filled me with gratitude and joy.Methought I could embrace him as a father, and entrance into his houseappeared like return to a long-lost and much-loved home. My desolate andlonely condition appeared to be changed for paternal regards and thetenderness of friendship.

  These emotions were confirmed and heightened by every object thatpresented itself under this roof. The family consisted of Mrs. Hadwin,two simple and affectionate girls, his daughters, and servants. Themanners of this family, quiet, artless, and cordial, the occupationsallotted me, the land by which the dwelling was surrounded, its pureairs, romantic walks, and exhaustless fertility, constituted a powerfulcontrast to the scenes which I had left behind, and were congenial withevery dictate of my understanding and every sentiment that glowed in myheart.

  My youth, mental cultivation, and circumspect deportment, entitled me todeference and confidence. Each hour confirmed me in the good opinion ofMr. Hadwin, and in the affections of his daughters. In the mind of myemployer, the simplicity of the husbandman and the devotion of theQuaker were blended with humanity and intelligence. The sisters, Susanand Eliza, were unacquainted with calamity and vice through the mediumof either observation or books. They were strangers to the benefits ofan elaborate education, but they were endowed with curiosity anddiscernment, and had not suffered their slender means of instruction toremain unimproved.

  The sedateness of the elder formed an amusing contrast with the laughingeye and untamable vivacity of the younger; but they smiled and theywept in unison. They thought and acted in different but not discordantkeys. On all momentous occasions, they reasoned and felt alike. Inordinary cases, they separated, as it were, into different tracks; butthis diversity was productive not of jarring, but of harmony.

  A romantic and untutored disposition like mine may be supposed liable tostrong impressions from perpetual converse with persons of their age andsex. The elder was soon discovered to have already disposed of heraffections. The younger was free, and somewhat that is more easilyconceived than named stole insensibly upon my heart. The images thathaunted me at home and abroad, in her absence and her presence,gradually coalesced into one shape, and gave birth to an incessant trainof latent palpitations and indefinable hopes. My days were little elsethan uninterrupted reveries, and night only called up phantoms morevivid and equally enchanting.

  The memorable incidents which had lately happened scarcely counterpoisedmy new sensations or diverted my contemplations from the present. Myviews were gradually led to rest upon futurity, and in that I quicklyfound cause of circumspection and dread. My present labours were light,and were sufficient for my subsistence in a single state; but wedlockwas the parent of new wants and of new cares. Mr. Hadwin's possessionswere adequate to his own frugal maintenance, but, divided between hischildren, would be too scanty for either. Besides, this division couldonly take place at his death, and that was an event whose speedyoccurrence was neither desirable nor probable.

  Another obstacle was now remembered. Hadwin was the conscientious memberof a sect which forbade the marriage of its votaries with those of adifferent communion. I had been trained in an opposite creed, andimagined it impossible that I should ever become a proselyte toQuakerism. It only remained for me to feign conversion, or to root outthe opinions of my friend and win her consent to a secret marriage.Whether hypocrisy was eligible was no subject of deliberation. If thepossession of all that ambition can conceive were added to thetransports of union with Eliza Hadwin, and offered as the price ofdissimulation, it would have been instantly rejected. My external goodswere not abundant nor numerous, but the consciousness of rectitude wasmine; and, in competition with this, the luxury of the heart and of thesenses, the gratifications of boundless ambition and inexhaustiblewealth, were contemptible and frivolous.

  The conquest of Eliza's errors was easy; but to introduce discord andsorrow into this family was an act of the utmost ingratitude andprofligacy. It was only requisite for my understanding clearly todiscern, to be convinced of the insuperability of this obs
tacle. It wasmanifest, therefore, that the point to which my wishes tended was placedbeyond my reach.

  To foster my passion was to foster a disease destructive either of myintegrity or my existence. It was indispensable to fix my thoughts upona different object, and to debar myself even from her intercourse. Toponder on themes foreign to my darling image, and to seclude myself fromher society, at hours which had usually been spent with her, weredifficult tasks. The latter was the least practicable. I had to contendwith eyes which alternately wondered at and upbraided me for myunkindness. She was wholly unaware of the nature of her own feelings,and this ignorance made her less scrupulous in the expression of hersentiments.

  Hitherto I had needed not employment beyond myself and my companions.Now my new motives made me eager to discover some means of controllingand beguiling my thoughts. In this state, the manuscript of Lodioccurred to me. In my way hither, I had resolved to make the study ofthe language of this book, and the translation of its contents intoEnglish, the business and solace of my leisure. Now this resolution wasrevived with new force.

  My project was perhaps singular. The ancient language of Italy possesseda strong affinity with the modern. My knowledge of the former was myonly means of gaining the latter. I had no grammar or vocabulary toexplain how far the meanings and inflections of Tuscan words variedfrom the Roman dialect. I was to ponder on each sentence and phrase; toselect among different conjectures the most plausible, and to ascertainthe true by patient and repeated scrutiny.

  This undertaking, fantastic and impracticable as it may seem, proved,upon experiment, to be within the compass of my powers. The detail of myprogress would be curious and instructive. What impediments, in theattainment of a darling purpose, human ingenuity and patience are ableto surmount; how much may be done by strenuous and solitary efforts; howthe mind, unassisted, may draw forth the principles of inflection andarrangement; may profit by remote, analogous, and latent similitudes,would be forcibly illustrated by my example; but the theme, howeverattractive, must, for the present, be omitted.

  My progress was slow; but the perception of hourly improvement affordedme unspeakable pleasure. Having arrived near the last pages, I was ableto pursue, with little interruption, the thread of an eloquentnarration. The triumph of a leader of outlaws over the popularenthusiasm of the Milanese and the claims of neighbouring potentates wasabout to be depicted. The _Condottiero_ Sforza had taken refuge from hisenemies in a tomb, accidentally discovered amidst the ruins of a Romanfortress in the Apennines. He had sought this recess for the sake ofconcealment, but found in it a treasure by which he would be enabled tosecure the wavering and venal faith of that crew of ruffians thatfollowed his standard, provided he fell not into the hands of theenemies who were now in search of him.

  My tumultuous curiosity was suddenly checked by the following leavesbeing glued together at the edges. To dissever them without injury tothe written spaces was by no means easy. I proceeded to the task, notwithout precipitation. The edges were torn away, and the leaves parted.

  It may be thought that I took up the thread where it had been broken;but no. The object that my eyes encountered, and which the cementedleaves had so long concealed, was beyond the power of the mostcapricious or lawless fancy to have prefigured; yet it bore a shadowyresemblance to the images with which my imagination was previouslyoccupied. I opened, and beheld--_a bank-note_!

  To the first transports of surprise, the conjecture succeeded, that theremaining leaves, cemented together in the same manner, might enclosesimilar bills. They were hastily separated, and the conjecture wasverified. My sensations at this discovery were of an inexplicable kind.I gazed at the notes in silence. I moved my finger over them; held themin different positions; read and reread the name of each sum, and thesignature; added them together, and repeated to myself--"_Twentythousand dollars!_ They are mine, and by such means!"

  This sum would have redeemed the fallen fortunes of Welbeck. The dyingLodi was unable to communicate all the contents of this inestimablevolume. He had divided his treasure, with a view to its greater safety,between this volume and his pocket-book. Death hasted upon him toosuddenly to allow him to explain his precautions. Welbeck had placed thebook in his collection, purposing some time to peruse it; but, deterredby anxieties which the perusal would have dissipated, he rushed todesperation and suicide, from which some evanescent contingency, byunfolding this treasure to his view, would have effectually rescued him.

  But was this event to be regretted? This sum, like the former, wouldprobably have been expended in the same pernicious prodigality. Hiscareer would have continued some time longer; but his inveterate habitswould have finally conducted his existence to the same criminal andignominious close.

  But the destiny of Welbeck was accomplished. The money was placed,without guilt or artifice, in my possession. My fortune had been thusunexpectedly and wondrously propitious. How was I to profit by herfavour? Would not this sum enable me to gather round me all theinstruments of pleasure? Equipage, and palace, and a multitude ofservants; polished mirrors, splendid hangings, banquets, and flatterers,were equally abhorrent to my taste and my principles. The accumulationof knowledge, and the diffusion of happiness, in which riches may berendered eminently instrumental, were the only precepts of duty, and theonly avenues to genuine felicity.

  "But what," said I, "is my title to this money? By retaining it, shall Inot be as culpable as Welbeck? It came into his possession, as it cameinto mine, without a crime; but my knowledge of the true proprietor isequally certain, and the claims of the unfortunate stranger are as validas ever. Indeed, if utility, and not law, be the measure of justice, herclaim, desolate and indigent as she is, unfitted, by her past life, bythe softness and the prejudices of her education, for contending withcalamity, is incontestable.

  "As to me, health and diligence will give me, not only the competencewhich I seek, but the power of enjoying it. If my present condition beunchangeable, I shall not be unhappy. My occupations are salutary andmeritorious; I am a stranger to the cares as well as to the enjoyment ofriches; abundant means of knowledge are possessed by me, as long as Ihave eyes to gaze at man and at nature, as they are exhibited in theiroriginal forms or in books. The precepts of my duty cannot be mistaken.The lady must be sought and the money restored to her."

  Certain obstacles existed to the immediate execution of this scheme. Howshould I conduct my search? What apology should I make for withdrawingthus abruptly, and contrary to the terms of an agreement into which Ihad lately entered, from the family and service of my friend andbenefactor Hadwin?

  My thoughts were called away from pursuing these inquiries by a rumour,which had gradually swelled to formidable dimensions; and which, atlength, reached us in our quiet retreats. The city, we were told, wasinvolved in confusion and panic, for a pestilential disease had begunits destructive progress. Magistrates and citizens were flying to thecountry. The numbers of the sick multiplied beyond all example; even inthe pest-affected cities of the Levant. The malady was malignant andunsparing.

  The usual occupations and amusements of life were at an end. Terror hadexterminated all the sentiments of nature. Wives were deserted byhusbands, and children by parents. Some had shut themselves in theirhouses, and debarred themselves from all communication with the rest ofmankind. The consternation of others had destroyed their understanding,and their misguided steps hurried them into the midst of the dangerwhich they had previously laboured to shun. Men were seized by thisdisease in the streets; passengers fled from them; entrance into theirown dwellings was denied to them; they perished in the public ways.

  The chambers of disease were deserted, and the sick left to die ofnegligence. None could be found to remove the lifeless bodies. Theirremains, suffered to decay by piecemeal, filled the air with deadlyexhalations, and added tenfold to the devastation.

  Such was the tale, distorted and diversified a thousand ways by thecredulity and exaggeration of the tellers. At first I listened to thestory with indifference or
mirth. Methought it was confuted by its ownextravagance. The enormity and variety of such an evil made it unworthyto be believed. I expected that every new day would detect the absurdityand fallacy of such representations. Every new day, however, added tothe number of witnesses and the consistency of the tale, till, atlength, it was not possible to withhold my faith.