Edgar Huntly; or, Memoirs of a Sleep-Walker Read online

  Chapter VI.

  How propitious, how incredible, was this event! I could scarcely confidein the testimony of my senses. Was it true that Clarice was before me,that she was prepared to countenance my presumption, that she hadslighted obstacles which I had deemed insurmountable, that I was fondlybeloved by her, and should shortly be admitted to the possession of soinestimable a good? I will not repeat the terms in which I poured forth,at her feet, the raptures of my gratitude. My impetuosity soon extortedfrom Clarice a confirmation of her mother's declaration. An unrestrainedintercourse was thenceforth established between us. Dejection andlanguor gave place, in my bosom, to the irradiations of joy and hope. Myflowing fortunes seemed to have attained their utmost and immutableheight.

  Alas! They were destined to ebb with unspeakably-greater rapidity, andto leave me, in a moment, stranded and wrecked.

  Our nuptials would have been solemnized without delay, had not amelancholy duty interfered. Clarice had a friend in a distant part ofthe kingdom. Her health had long been the prey of a consumption. She wasnow evidently tending to dissolution. In this extremity she entreatedher friend to afford her the consolation of her presence. The only wishthat remained was to die in her arms.

  This request could not but be willingly complied with. It became mepatiently to endure the delay that would thence arise to the completionof my wishes. Considering the urgency and mournfulness of the occasion,it was impossible for me to murmur, and the affectionate Clarice wouldsuffer nothing to interfere with the duty which she owed to her dyingfriend. I accompanied her on this journey, remained with her a few days,and then parted from her to return to the metropolis. It was notimagined that it would be necessary to prolong her absence beyond amonth. When I bade her farewell, and informed her on what day I proposedto return for her, I felt no decay of my satisfaction. My thoughts werebright and full of exultation. Why was not some intimation afforded meof the snares that lay in my path? In the train laid for my destruction,the agent had so skilfully contrived that my security was not molestedby the faintest omen.

  I hasten to the crisis of my tale. I am almost dubious of my strength.The nearer I approach to it, the stronger is my aversion. My courage,instead of gathering force as I proceed, decays. I am willing to dwellstill longer on preliminary circumstances. There are other incidentswithout which my story would be lame. I retail them because they affordme a kind of respite from horrors at the thought of which every joint inmy frame trembles. They must be endured, but that infirmity may beforgiven which makes me inclined to procrastinate my suffering.

  I mentioned the lover whom my patroness was compelled, by themachinations of her brother, to discard. More than twenty years hadpassed since their separation. His birth was mean and he was withoutfortune. His profession was that of a surgeon. My lady not onlyprevailed upon him to abandon his country, but enabled him to do this bysupplying his necessities from her own purse. His excellentunderstanding was, for a time, obscured by passion; but it was notdifficult for my lady ultimately to obtain his concurrence to all herschemes. He saw and adored the rectitude of her motives, did not disdainto accept her gifts, and projected means for maintaining an epistolaryintercourse during their separation.

  Her interest procured him a post in the service of the East IndiaCompany. She was, from time to time, informed of his motions. A warbroke out between the Company and some of the native powers. He waspresent at a great battle in which the English were defeated. She couldtrace him by his letters and by other circumstances thus far, but herethe thread was discontinued, and no means which she employed couldprocure any tidings of him. Whether he was captive, or dead, continued,for several years, to be merely matter of conjecture.

  On my return to Dublin, I found my patroness engaged in conversationwith a stranger. She introduced us to each other in a manner thatindicated the respect which she entertained for us both. I surveyed andlistened to him with considerable attention. His aspect was noble andingenuous, but his sunburnt and rugged features bespoke a various andboisterous pilgrimage. The furrows of his brow were the products ofvicissitude and hardship, rather than of age. His accents were fiery andenergetic, and the impassioned boldness of his address, as well as thetenor of his discourse, full of allusions to the past, and regrets thatthe course of events had not been different, made me suspect somethingextraordinary in his character.

  As soon as he left us, my lady explained who he was. He was no otherthan the object of her youthful attachment, who had, a few days before,dropped among us as from the skies. He had a long and various story totell. He had accounted for his silence by enumerating the incidents ofhis life. He had escaped from the prisons of Hyder, had wandered onfoot, and under various disguises, through the northern district ofHindostan. He was sometimes a scholar of Benares, and sometimes adisciple of the Mosque. According to the exigencies of the times, he wasa pilgrim to Mecca or to Juggernaut. By a long, circuitous, and perilousroute, he at length arrived at the Turkish capital. Here he resided forseveral years, deriving a precarious subsistence from the profession ofa surgeon. He was obliged to desert this post, in consequence of a duelbetween two Scotsmen. One of them had embraced the Greek religion, andwas betrothed to the daughter of a wealthy trader of that nation. Heperished in the conflict, and the family of the lady not only procuredthe execution of his antagonist, but threatened to involve all those whowere known to be connected with him in the same ruin.

  His life being thus endangered, it became necessary for him to seek anew residence. He fled from Constantinople with such precipitation asreduced him to the lowest poverty. He had traversed the Indian conquestsof Alexander, as a mendicant. In the same character, he now wanderedover the native country of Philip and Philopoemen. He passed safelythrough multiplied perils, and finally, embarking at Salonica, hereached Venice. He descended through the passes of the Apennines intoTuscany. In this journey he suffered a long detention from banditti, bywhom he was waylaid. In consequence of his harmless deportment, and aseasonable display of his chirurgical skill, they granted him his life,though they, for a time, restrained him of his liberty, and compelledhim to endure their society. The time was not misemployed which he spentimmured in caverns and carousing with robbers. His details wereeminently singular and curious, and evinced the acuteness of hispenetration, as well as the steadfastness of his courage.

  After emerging from these wilds, he found his way along the banks of theArno to Leghorn. Thence he procured a passage to America, whence he hadjust returned, with many additions to his experience, but none to hisfortune.

  This was a remarkable event. It did not at first appear how far itsconsequences would extend. The lady was, at present, disengaged andindependent. Though the passion which clouded her early prosperity wasextinct, time had not diminished the worth of her friend, and they werefar from having reached that age when love becomes chimerical andmarriage folly. A confidential intercourse was immediately establishedbetween them. The bounty of Mrs. Lorimer soon divested her friend of allfear of poverty. "At any rate," said she, "he shall wander no farther,but shall be comfortably situated for the rest of his life." All hisscruples were vanquished by the reasonableness of her remonstrances andthe vehemence of her solicitations.

  A cordial intimacy grew between me and the newly-arrived. Our interviewswere frequent, and our communications without reserve. He detailed to methe result of his experience, and expatiated without end on the historyof his actions and opinions. He related the adventures of his youth, anddwelt upon all the circumstances of his attachment to my patroness. Onthis subject I had heard only general details. I continually foundcause, in the course of his narrative, to revere the illustriousqualities of my lady, and to weep at the calamities to which theinfernal malice of her brother had subjected her.

  The tale of that man's misdeeds, amplified and dramatized by theindignant eloquence of this historian, oppressed me with astonishment.If a poet had drawn such a portrait, I should have been prone to suspectthe soundness of his judgment. Till now I had ima
gined that no characterwas uniform and unmixed, and my theory of the passions did not enable meto account for a propensity gratified merely by evil, and delighting inshrieks and agony for their own sake.

  It was natural to suggest to my friend, when expatiating on this theme,an inquiry as to how far subsequent events had obliterated theimpressions that were then made, and as to the plausibility of reviving,at this more auspicious period, his claims on the heart of his friend.When he thought proper to notice these hints, he gave me to understandthat time had made no essential alteration in his sentiments in thisrespect; that he still fostered a hope, to which every day added newvigour; that, whatever was the ultimate event, he trusted in hisfortitude to sustain it, if adverse, and in his wisdom to extract fromit the most valuable consequences, if it should prove prosperous.

  The progress of things was not unfavourable to his hopes. She treatedhis insinuations and professions with levity; but her arguments seemedto be urged with no other view than to afford an opportunity ofconfutation; and, since there was no abatement of familiarity andkindness, there was room to hope that the affair would terminateagreeably to his wishes.