"My father had a daughter lov'd a man,
As it might be perhaps, were I a woman,
I should your lordship."
_Viola_.
As the reader must, by this time, have a pretty accurate idea of our manner
of marching in the wilderness, I shall not dwell on this part of our
proceedings any longer. On we went, and at a rapid rate, the guide having
abandoned the common route, which had got to be a pretty visible trail, and
taking another on which, as it appeared to me, he had no other clue than an
instinct. Guert had told Susquesus of the ravine, and how desirable it
was to reach it, getting for an answer a quiet nod of the head, and a low
ejaculation. It was understood, however, that we were to approach Herman
Mordaunt's fortress, by that avenue.
It was past the turn of the day when we quitted Mooseridge, and none of us
hoped to reach Ravensnest before dark. It fell out, as we expected, night
drawing its veil over the scene, about half an hour before the Trackless
plunged into the northern, or forest-end of the ravine. Thus far, we had
got no evidence whatever of the proximity of foes. Our march had been
silent, rapid, and watchful, but it proved to be perfectly undisturbed. We
knew, however, that the critical portion of it was still before us; and
just as the sun set, we had made a halt, in order to look to our arms. It
may now be well to say a word or two on the subject of the position of
Herman Mordaunt's 'garrison,' as well as of the adjacent settlement. I call
Ravensnest the 'garrison,' for that is the word which New York custom has
long applied to the fortress itself, as well as those who defend it. Some
critics pretend there is authority to justify the practice, and I see by
the dictionaries that they are not entirely in the wrong.
The Nest stood quite half a mile from the nearest point of the forest, a
belt of trees that fringed the margin, and which filled the cavity of
the ravine, excepted. Near it, and in plain sight, was the heart of the
settlement itself, which extended, in an east and west direction, fully
four miles. This area, however, was cleared only in a settlement fashion;
having patches of virgin forest scattered pretty profusely over its
surface. The mill-lot, as Jason's purchase was termed, lay at the most
distant extremity of the view, but, as yet, the axe had not been applied
to it. I had remarked in my last visit to the place, that, standing before
Herman Mordaunt's door, something like a dozen log cabins were to be seen
at a time in different parts of the settlement, and that this number might
have been increased to twenty, by varying the observer's position.
Of course, the whole of the open space was more or less disfigured by
stumps, dead and girdled trees, charred stubs, log-heaps, brush, and all
the other unseemly accompaniments of the first eight or ten years of the
existence of a new settlement. This period, in the history of a country,
may be likened to the hobbledehoy condition in ourselves, when we have lost
the graces of childhood, without having attained the finished forms of men.
Herman Mordaunt's settlement would have been thought a strong country, in
one sense, for a field fight, had there been men enough to contend with a
hostile party of any force. But, I had heard him say that he had but about
seventeen rifles and muskets that could be in the least relied on, inasmuch
as some of his people were Europeans, and had no knowledge of fire-arms,
while experience had shown that others, on the occurrence of an alarm,
invariably fled to the woods, with their families, instead of rallying
around the settlement colours. Such delinquencies usually take place, I
believe, on all emergencies; love of life being even a stronger instinct
than love of property. Here and there a sturdy fellow, however, would bar
himself in, with a determination to go for the whole, under his own bark
roof; and, occasionally, defences were made that would do credit to a hero.
It should be apparent to those who have any accurate notion of savage
warfare, that the ravine, being, as it was, the only wooded spot near
Herman Mordaunt's fortress, would be the place of all others most likely to
contain an enemy who made his approaches against a garrison, by means of
natural facilities alone. We were aware of this; and Guert, who took an
active command among us, as we drew near to danger, issued his commands for
every man to be on the alert, in order that there might be no confusion.
We were instructed as to the manner of proceeding the moment an alarm was
given; and Guert, who was a capital mimic, had previously taught us several
calls and rallying signals, all of which were good imitations of the cries
of different tenants of the woods, principally birds. These signals had
their origin with the red-man, who often resorted to them, and were said to
be more successfully practised by our own hunters and riflemen than even by
those with whom they originated.
On entering the ravine, the order of our march was changed. While Susquesus
and Jumper were still kept in advance, Guert, Dirck, Jaap and myself moved
abreast, and quite close together. The density of the foliage, and the deep
obscurity that prevailed in the bottom of this dell-like hollow, rendered
this precaution necessary. It soon became so dark, indeed, that our only
guide was the brook that gurgled along the bottom of the ravine, and which
we knew issued into the open ground at its termination, to join a small
river that meandered through some natural meadows to the westward of the
Nest, but which, in the language of the country, was called a 'creek.' This
abuse of good old English words, I am sorry to say, is getting to be only
too common among us; yet, I have heard Americans boast that we speak the
language better than the mother country! That we have no class among us
that uses an unintelligible dialect, like that of Lancashire or Yorkshire,
is true enough; and, that we have fewer persons who use decided vulgarisms,
in the way of false grammar, than is the case in England, may be also
accurate; but, it might be well for us to correct a great many faults into
which we have certainly fallen, before we declaim with so much confidence
about the purity of our English. [37] To return to the ravine.
We had gone so far in the hollow, dark dell, as to have reached a point
where the faint light of the open ground and the stars in the firmament
became visible to us, when we suddenly found ourselves alongside of the
Trackless and Jumper. These Indians had halted; for their quick, jealous,
eagle-like glances had detected the signs of enemies. Nor was this
discovery very difficult to make, though some pains had actually been taken
to conceal what was going on in our front. A party of some forty savages,
every man of whom was in his war-paint, had lighted a fire beneath a
shelving rock, and were gathered around it at supper. The fire had already
done its duty, and was now merely smouldering, throwing a faint, flickering
light on the dark, fierce features of the group that was clustered round.
We might have approached the spot in any other direction, without seeing
the danger in time to avoid it; but a kind Providence had carried the two
Indians directly to a point where the dying embers immediately caught their
attention, and where they halted as has been said. I do not think we were
more than forty yards from this fearful band of savages, when they first
met my eye; and, hardened as I had certainly somewhat become, by the
service and scenes I had so lately gone through, I will confess that my
blood was a little chilled at the sight.
Our conference was in whispers. There we stood, huddled together beneath
a huge oak, the shade of which rendered the darkness that formed our only
safeguard, so much the more intense. So close were we, in fact, that even
Jaap's body was in absolute contact with my own. Susquesus proposed making
a _détour_, by crossing the brook, which, fortunately, tumbled down some
rocks at this point, making a very favourable noise, and thus pass our
enemies, who would not probably end their meal until we had time to reach
the 'garrison.' To this Guert applied his veto. He was of opinion, and I
have always thought it was the decision of a man born to be a soldier, that
we were exactly in the position we might desire to occupy, in order to be
of great service to the family, and to strike the enemy with a panic. By
attacking, we should certainly surprise the party in our front, and might
make such an impression as would induce them to abandon the settlement.
Both Dirck and myself coincided in this opinion, which even received the
support of Jaap's voice.
"Yes, sah!--yes, Masser Corny, now 'e time to wengeance poor Pete!" he
muttered, and that rather louder than was thought quite prudent.
As soon as the Trackless found how things were going, he and Jumper
prepared for the conflict, as coolly as any of us. Our arrangements were
very simple, and were soon made. We were to deliver a single fire from the
spot where we stood, shout, and charge with the knife and tomahawk. No time
was to be wasted, however; and, instead of remaining near the light, small
as it was, we were to push for the mouth of the ravine, and thence make the
best of our way, singly or in company, as chance should offer, to the gate
of Ravensnest. In a moment we were in open files, and had our orders.
"Remember Traverse!" said Guert, sternly--"remember poor Sam, and all our
murteret frients!"
The reader knows that Guert was apt to be very Dutch, when much excited.
We _did_ remember the dead; and I have often thought, but never knew
precisely, that each of us sacrificed a victim to the manes of our lost
companions, on that stern occasion. Our rifles rang, or cracked would be
the better word, almost simultaneously; a yell arose from the savages
around the fire; our own shouts mingled with that yell, and forward we
went, endeavouring to make our numbers appear as if we were a hundred.
One retains but very indistinct notions of a charge like that, made as it
was, in the dark, beyond its general characteristics. We swept directly
among the slain and wounded, and I heard Jaap dealing one or two awful
blows on the bodies; but no one opposed us. A moment after we had passed
the smouldering fire, three or four shot were discharged at us, but there
was no sign of their telling on any of our party. The distance from the
fire to the mouth of the ravine, might have been a hundred yards; and the
external light, or lesser darkness may be a better expression, served us
for a guide. Thither we pushed, fast as we could, though by no means in
compact order.
For this part of the affair, I can only speak for myself. I saw men moving
swiftly among the trees, and I supposed them to be my companions; but we
had become separated, it being understood that each man was now to shift
for himself. As our rifles were discharged, and there was no time to reload
them, there was little use, indeed, in any halt. Perceiving this, I did not
issue from the ravine at the brook, but clinging more to its side, left it
at a little height above the level of the adjacent plain. Here I paused to
load, the cover being good, and the position every way favourable. While
thus employed, I found time to look around me, and to ascertain the
situation of things in the settlement, so far as the hour and the obscurity
would permit.
The plain was glimmering with the remains of a dozen large fires, the ruins
of so many log-houses and barns. Their light amounted to no more than to
render the darkness of the night distinctly visible, and to afford some
small clues to the extent of the ravages that had been already committed.
The house of Ravensnest, however, was untouched. There it stood, looking
dark and gloomy; for, having no external windows, no other light was to
be seen than a single candle, that was probably placed in a loophole as a
signal. Profound stillness reigned in and around the building, producing
a species of mystery that was, in itself, under such circumstances, an
element of force. There was not light enough to distinguish objects at any
distance, and, having reloaded my rifle, I thought it wisest to make the
best of my way to the gate. At that moment, the stillness in my rear seemed
to possess something affirmatively fearful about it.
It was certainly a somewhat hazardous thing to break cover, at such a
moment, and under such circumstances; but it was absolutely necessary to
incur its risks. My first leap carried me half-way down the declivity, and
I was soon on the level land. In my front were two men, one of whom seemed
to me to be in the grasp of the other. As they were moving, though slowly,
in the direction of the house, I ventured to ask 'Who goes there?'
"Oh, Corny, my lad, is that you?" answered Guert. "Got be praised! you seem
unhurt, and are just in time to help me along with this Huron, on whom I
blundered in the dark, and have disarmed and captured. Give him a kick or a
push, if you please; for the fellow holds back like a hog."
I had too much knowledge of Indian vindictiveness, however, to adopt the
means recommended; but seizing the captive by one arm, while Guert held
the other, we ran him up to the _abbatis_ that covered the gate of the
"garrison," with very little difficulty. Here we found Herman Mordaunt
and a dozen of his people, all armed, ready to receive Us. They were in
expectation of our appearance, both on account of the hour, and on account
of the clamour in the ravine, which had been distinctly heard at the house.
In less than a minute everybody was in, safe and unharmed. The fact was,
that our attack had been so sudden as to sweep everything before it, and
the enemy had not time to recover from his panic, before we were all snugly
housed. Once within the gate of Ravensnest we ran no risks, beyond those
which were common to all such log fortresses in the warfare of the
wilderness.
It would not be easy for a pen as unskilful as mine, to portray the change,
from the gloom of the ravine, the short but bloody assault, the shouts,
the rush, and the retreat, of the outer world, to the scene of domestic
security we found within the Nest, embellished, as was the last, by woman's
loveliness and graces, and, in many respects, by woman's elegance. Anneke
and her friend received us in a bright, cheerful, comfortable apartment,
that was rendered so much the more attractive by their tears and their
smiles, neither of which were spared. I could see that both had been
dreadfully agitated; but joy restored their colour, and brought back the
smiles to their sweet faces. The situation of the place was such, perhaps,
as to render cheerfulness neither very lasting nor very lively; but the
tenderest female can find her heart suddenly so lightened from its burthen
of apprehensions, as to be able to seem momentarily happy, even when
environed by the horrors of war. Such, in a measure, was the character of
the reception we now received, together with a thousand thanks for having
so promptly answered their letters in person. The dear creatures had
the ingenuity not to seem to ascribe that prompt obedience to their own
requests, which we had manifested, to any care for ourselves, but solely
to a wish to oblige and protect them. The reader will understand that all
explanations still remained to be made, on both sides. These soon came,
however; facts pressing themselves on the attention, at such times, with
a weight that is irresistible. The ice was broken by Herman Mordaunt's
entering the room, and speaking to us, like one who felt that a great
omission had been made.
"We had closed the gate, and set the look-out at the loops again," he said,
"before I ascertained that all your party is not here. I see nothing of
Traverse and his chain-bearers, nor of Sam or Tom, your hunters! Surely,
they are not left behind in the forest?"
Neither of us three spoke. Our looks must have told the sad story, for
Herman Mordaunt seemed to understand us on the instant.
"No!" he exclaimed--"Can it be possible? Not _all_, surely!"
"_All_, Mr. Mordaunt, even to my poor slave, Petrus," answered Guert,
solemnly. "They were set upon, while dispersed, I suppose, and have been
murdered, while we were still absent, on our expedition."
The dear girls clasped their hands, and I thought Anneke's pallid lips
moved, as if in prayer. Her father shook his head, and for some time he
paced the room in silence. Then rousing himself, like one conscious of the
necessity of calmness and exertion, he resumed the discourse.
"Thank God, Mr. Bulstrode reached us safely last evening, just after we
despatched the runner; and _he_ is beyond the reach of these demons for the
present!"
After this we were enabled to converse more connectedly, exchanging such
statements as enabled each party to understand the precise condition of the
other. We were then carried to Bulstrode's room, for he had expressed a
desire to see us, as soon as we could be spared. Our fellow campaigner
received us in good spirits, for one in his situation, speaking of the
events in front of Ticonderoga sensibly, and without any attempt to conceal
the mortification that he felt, in common with the whole British empire.
His hurt was by no means a bad one; likely to cripple him for a few weeks,
but the leg was in no danger.
"I have had the resolution and address, Corny, to work my way into good
quarters, this unexpected siege excepted," he observed to me, when the
others had withdrawn, leaving us alone. "This rivalry of ours is a generous
one, and may now have fair play. If we quit this Nest of Herman Mordaunt's
without ascertaining the true state of Anneke's feelings, we shall deserve
to be condemned to celibacy for the remainder of our days. There never were
two such opportunities for wooing to advantage!"
"I confess our situation does not strike me as being quite as favourable,
Mr. Bulstrode," I answered. "Anneke must have too many apprehensions on
her own account, and on account of others, to be as sensible to the tender
sentiments of love, as might be the case in the peace and security of
Lilacsbush."
"Ah! It is very evident you know nothing of the female sex, Corny, by
that remark. I will grant you, that unwooed previously, and without any
foundation laid, if I may express myself so irreverently, your theory might
turn out to be true; but not so under actual circumstances. Here is a young
lady in her nineteenth year, who knows she is not only sought, but has long
been sought, ay warmly, ardently sought, by two reasonably unobjectionable
young men, placed in the very situation to have all her sensibilities
excited, by one or the other, and, depend on it, the matter will be
determined within this blessed week. If I should prove to be the fortunate
man, I hope to be able to manifest a generous sympathy; and, _vice versâ,_
I shall expect the same. Though this sad, sad business before Ty has been a
good preparative for humiliation."
I could not avoid smiling at Bulstrode's singular views of our suit; but,
as Anneke was ever with me an engrossing theme, spite of our situation,
which certainly was not particularly appropriate to love, I did not feel
equal to quitting it abruptly. The matter was consequently pursued. As I
asked Bulstrode to explain himself, I got from him the following account of
his theory.
"Why, I reason in this wise, Corny. Anneke loves _one_ of us two, beyond
all question. That she _loves_, I will swear; her blushes, her beaming
eyes, even her beauty is replete with the loveliness of the sentiment. Now,
it is not possible that she should love any other person than one of us
two, for the simple reason that she has no other suitor. I shall be frank
with you, and confess that I think I am the favoured fellow, while, I dare
say, you are just as sanguine and think it is yourself."
"I give you my honour, Major Bulstrode, so presuming, so improper a thought
has never--"
"Yes, yes--I understand all that. You are not worthy of Anne Mordaunt's
love, and therefore have never presumed to imagine that she could bestow
it on such a poor, miserable, worthless, good-for-nothing a fellow as
yourself. I have a great deal of the same very proper feeling; but, at the
same time, each of us is quite confident of his own success, or he would
have given up the pursuit long since."
"I do assure you, Bulstrode, anything but confidence mingles with _my_
feelings on this subject. _You_ may have reasons for your own security, but
I can boast of none."
"I have no other than self-love, of which every man has a just portion for
his own comfort and peace of mind. I say that hope is indispensable to
love, and hope is allied to confidence. My reasoning on these points is
very simple. And, now for the peculiar advantages we enjoy for bringing
matters to a crisis. In the first place, I am hurt, you will understand;
suffering under an honourable wound, received in open battle, fighting for
king and country. Then, I have been brought fresh from the field, on my
litter, into the presence of my mistress, bearing on my person the evidence
of my risk, and, I hope, of my good conduct. There is not one woman in a
thousand, if she hesitated between us, that would not decide in my favour,
on these grounds alone. You have no notion, Corny, how the hearts of these
sweet, gentle, devoted, generous little American girls melt to sympathy,
and the sufferings of a poor wretch that they know adores them! Make a
nurse of a female, and she is yours, nine times out of ten. This has been
a master-stroke of mine, but I hope you will pardon it. Stratagems are
excusable in love, as in war."
"I have no difficulty in understanding your policy, Bulstrode; though I
confess to some in understanding your frankness. Such as it is, however, I
trust you feel certain it will not be abused. Now, as to my situation, what
peculiar countervailing advantages do I enjoy?"
"Those of a defender. Oh, _that_ is a battering-ram of itself! This
confounded assault on the settlement, which they tell me is rather serious,
and may keep alive apprehensions for some days yet, is a most unlucky thing
for me, while it is of great advantage to you. A wounded man cannot excite
one-half the interest he otherwise might, when there is a chance that
others may be slain, every minute. Then, the character of a defender is a
great deal; and being a generous rival, as I have always told you, Corny,
my advice is to make the most of it. I conceal nothing, and intend to do
all I can with my wound."
It was scarcely possible not to laugh at this strangely frank, yet, I fully
believe, strangely sincere communication; for Bulstrode was a humorist,
with all his conventionalism and London notions, and was more addicted to
saying precisely what he thought, than is common with men of his class.
After sitting and chatting with him half an hour longer, on the subject of
the late military operations, of which he spoke with both feeling and good
sense, I took my leave for the night.
"God bless you, Corny," he said, squeezing my hand, as I left him; "improve
the opportunity in your own way, for I assure you I shall do it in mine. It
is present valour against past valour. If it were not my own case that is
concerned, there is not a man living to whom I should more freely wish
success."
And I believe Bulstrode did not exceed the truth in his declarations. That
I should succeed with Anneke, he did not think, as was apparent to me by
his general manner, and the consciousness he must have possessed of his
own advantages in the way of rank and fortune, as well as in having Herman
Mordaunt's good wishes. Oddly enough, in quitting my rival, and under
circumstances so very peculiar, I was accidentally thrown into the presence
of my mistress, and that, too, alone! Anneke was the sole occupant of the
little room in which the girls habitually staid, when I returned to it;
Guert having managed to induce Mary Wallace to walk with him in the
court, the only place the ladies now possessed for exercise; while Herman
Mordaunt, Mr. Worden, and Dirck, were together in the public-room, making
some arrangement with the confused body of the settlers, who had crowded
into the Nest, for the night-watch. I shall not stop to express the delight
I felt at finding Anneke there; nor was it in any degree diminished, as
I met the soft expression of her sweet eyes, and saw the blushes that
suffused her cheek. The conversation I had just held, doubtless, had its
effect; for I determined, at once, that so favourable an occasion for
pressing my suit should not be lost. I was goaded on, if the truth must be
told, by apprehension of Bulstrode's wound.
What I said precisely, in the commencement of that interview, is more than
I could record, did I think it would redound to my advantage, as I fear
it would not; but I made myself understood, which is more, I fancy, than
happens to all lovers in such scenes. At first I was confused and a little
incoherent, I suspect; but feeling so far got the better of these defects,
as to enable me to utter what I wished to express. Towards the end, if I
spoke in the least as warmly and distinctly as I felt, there must have been
some slight touch of eloquence about my manner and language. This being the
first occasion, too, on which I had ever had an opportunity of urging my
suit very directly, there was so much to be said, so many things to be
explained, and so many seemingly slighted occasions to account for, that
Anneke had little else to do, for the first ten minutes, but to listen. I
have always ascribed the self-possession which my companion was enabled to
command during the remainder of this interview, to the time that was thus
accorded her to rally her thoughts.
Dear, precious Anneke! How admirably did she behave that memorable night!
It was certainly an extraordinary situation in which to speak of love; yet,
I much question if the feelings be not more likely to be true and natural
at such times, than when circumstances admit of more of the expedients of
every-day life. I could see that my sweet listener was touched, from the
moment I commenced, and that her countenance betrayed a tender interest
in what I said. Presuming on this, or encouraged by her blushes and her
downcast eyes, I ventured to take a hand, and perceived I was not repulsed.
Then it was that I found words, that actually brought tears to my
companion's eyes, and Anneke was enabled to answer me.
"This is so unusual--so extraordinary a time to speak of such things,
Corny," she said, "that I hardly know what ought to be my reply. Of one
thing, however, I feel certain; persons surrounded as we are by dangers
that may, at any instant, involve our destruction, have an unusual demand
on them for sincerity. Affectation, I hope, I am never much addicted to,
and prudery I know _you_ would condemn. I have a feeling uppermost, at this
instant, that I wish to express, yet scarce know how--"
"Do not suppress it, beloved Anneke; be as generous as I am certain you are
sincere."
"Corny, it is this. I know we are in danger--very great danger of being
overcome; captured, perhaps slain, by the ruthless beings who are prowling
around our dwelling, and that no one in this house can count on a single
day of existence even with the ordinary vain security of man. Now, should
anything befall _you_, after this, and I survive you, I should survive
for the remainder of my days to mourn your loss, and to feel the keenest
regrets that I had hesitated to own how much interest I have long felt in
you, and how happy I have been with the consciousness of the preference
that you so frankly and honestly avowed in my favour, months ago."
As the tears, as well as blushes of Anneke, accompanied these admissions,
it was not possible for me to doubt what I heard. From that moment, a world
of confidence, and a flow of pure, sweet, strong, natural feeling, bound us
more and more closely together. Guert was in a happy mood to detain Mary
Wallace, and business greatly befriended me, as respected the others. More
than an hour had I Anne Mordaunt all to myself; and when the heart is open,
how much can be uttered and understood, on such a subject as love, in an
hour of unreserved confidence, and of strong feeling! Anneke admitted to
me, before we separated, that she had often thought of the chivalrous boy,
who had volunteered to do battle in her behalf, when she was little more
than a child herself, and thought of him as a generous-minded girl would be
apt to think of a lad, under the circumstances. This very early preference
had been much quickened and increased by the affair of the lion, and our
subsequent intercourse. Bulstrode, that formidable, encouraged rival,
encouraged by her father if not by herself, had never interested her in the
least, beyond the feeling natural to the affinity of blood; and I might
have spared myself many hours of anxious concern, on his account, could I
only have seen what was now so unreservedly told to me. Poor Bulstrode!
a feeling of commiseration came over me, as I listened to my companion's
assurances that he had never in the least touched her heart, while, at
the same time, blushing very red, she confessed my own power over it. An
expression to this effect even escaped her aloud--
"Have no concern on Mr. Bulstrode's account, Corny," Anneke answered,
smiling archly, like one who had well weighed the pros and cons of the
whole subject, in her own mind; "he may be a little mortified, but his
fancy will soon be forgotten in rejoicing that he had not yielded to a
passing inclination, and connected himself with a young, inexperienced
American girl, who is hardly suited to move in the circles in which his
wife must live--I do believe Mr. Bulstrode prefers me, just now, to any
other female he may tappen to know; but his attachment, if it deserve the
name, has not the heart in it, dear Corny, that I know is to be found in
your's. We women are said to be quick in discovering when we are really
loved, and I confess that my own little experience inclines me to believe
that the remark does us no more than justice."
I then spoke of Guert, and expressed a hope that his sincere, obvious,
manly devotion, might finally touch her heart, and that my new friend,
towards whom, however, I began already to feel as towards an old friend,
might finally meet with a return for a passion that I was persuaded was as
deep and as sincere as my own; a comparison that I felt was as strong as
any I could make in Guert's behalf.
"On this subject, you are not to expect me to say much, Corny," answered
Anneke, smiling. "Every woman is the mistress of her own secrets on such a
subject; and, did I know fully Mary Wallace's mind or wishes in reference
to Mr. Ten Eyck, as I do not profess to know either, I should not feel at
liberty to betray her, even to you. I have no longer any secret of my own,
as respects Corny Littlepage, but must not be expected to be as weak in
betraying my whole sex, as I have been in betraying myself!"
I was obliged to be satisfied with this sweet admission and with the
knowledge that I had been long loved. When Anneke left me, which, at
the expiration of more than an hour, she insisted on doing, under the
consciousness of all that had passed between us, I had a good deal of
difficulty in believing that I was not dreaming. This _ecclaircissement_
was so sudden, so totally unexpected I fancy to us both, that well might it
so seem to either; yet, I fancy we did not part without a deep
conviction that both were happier than when we met. I solemnly declare,
notwithstanding, that I felt sorrow, almost regret, on behalf of Bulstrode.
The poor fellow had been so evidently confident of success, only an hour or
two before, that I could not have acquainted him with my own success, had
he been up, and able to prefer his own suit; in his actual situation, such
a procedure would have appeared brutal.
As for Guert Ten Eyck, he rejoined me sadder and more despairing than ever.
"It struck me, Corny, that if Mary Wallace had the smallest inclination in
my behalf, she would manifest it at a moment when we may all be said to be
hanging between life and deaf. I have often heard it said that the woman
who would trifle with a young fellow at a ball, or on a sleigh-ride, and
use him like a dog, while every one was laughing and making merry, would
come round like one of the weather-cocks on our Dutch barns, at a shift of
the wind, the instant that distress or unhappiness alighted on her suitor.
In other worts, that the very girl who would be capricious and uncertain,
in happiness and prosperity, would suddenly become tender and truthful, as
soon as sorrow touched the man who wished to have her. On the strength of
this, then, I thought I would urge Mary, to the best of my poor abilities,
and you know they are no great matter, Corny, to give me only a glimmering
of hope; but without success. Not a syllable more could I get out of her
than that the time was unseasonable to talk of such things; and I do think
I should be ready to go and meet these Huron devils, hand to hand, were it
not for the fact that the very girl who thus remonstrated, staid with me
quite two hours, listening to what I had to say, though I spoke of nothing
else. There was a crumb of comfort in that, lad, or I do not understand
human nature."
There was, truly. Still, I could not but compare Anne Mordaunt's generous
confessions, under the influence of the same facts, and fancy that the
prospects of the simple-minded, warm-hearted, manly young Albanian, were
far less flattering than my own.
[Footnote 37: It is _northern_ American, to call a small 'lake' a 'pond,' a
small 'river' a 'creek,' even though it should be an 'outlet,' instead of
an 'inlet,' &c. &c. It is a more difficult thing than is commonly supposed,
to make two great nations, each of which is disposed to innovate, speak the
same language with precise uniformity. The Manhattanese, who have probably
fewer of the peculiarities of the inhabitants of a capital than the
population of any other town in the world of four hundred thousand
souls, the consequences of a rapid growth, and of a people who have
come principally from the country are much addicted to introducing new
significations for words, which arise from their own provincial habits. In
Manhattanese parlance, for instance, a 'square' is a 'park,' or, even a
'garden' is a 'park.' A promenade, on the water, is a 'battery!' It is a
pity that, in this humour for change, they have not thought of altering the
complex and imitative mine of their town.--EDITOR.]