Chapter 46

NEW LIFE.

Oh, mighty perseverance! Oh, courage, stern and stout! That wills and works a clearance Of every troubling doubt, That cannot brook denial And scarce allows delay, But wins from every trial More strength for every day!

--_M.F. Tupper_.

When the judge met his daughter at dinner that evening, he informed her of the new arrangement affected with Ishmael Worth.

Miss Merlin listened in some surprise, and then asked:

"Was it well done, papa?"

"What, Claudia?"

"The making of that engagement with Ishmael."

"I think so, my dear, as far as I am interested, at least, and I shall endeavor to make the arrangement profitable also to the youth."

"And he is to remain with us until we go to town?"

"Yes, my dear; but you seem to demur, Claudia. Now what is the matter? What possible objection can there be to Ishmael Worth remaining here as my assistant until we go to town?"

"Papa, it will be accustoming him to a society and style that will make it very hard for him to return to the company of the ignorant men and women who have hitherto been his associates," said Claudia.

"But why should he return to them? Young Worth is very talented and well educated. He works to enable him to study a profession. There is no reason on earth why he should not succeed. He looks like a gentleman, talks like a gentleman, and behaves like a gentleman! And there is nothing to prevent his becoming a gentleman."

"Oh, yes, there is, papa! Yes, there is!" exclaimed Claudia, with emotion.

"To what do you allude, my dear?"

"To his--low birth, papa!" exclaimed Claudia, with a gasp.

"His low birth? Claudia! do we live in a republic or not? If we do, what is the use of our free institutions, if a deserving young man is to be despised on account of his birth? Claudia, in the circle of my acquaintance there are at least half-a-dozen prosperous men who were the sons of poor but respectable parents."

"Yes! poor, but--respectable!" ejaculated Claudia, with exceeding bitterness.

"My daughter, what do you mean by that? Surely young Worth's family are honest people?" inquired the judge.

"Ishmael's parents were not respectable! his mother was never married! I heard this years ago, but did not believe it. I heard it confirmed to-day!" cried Claudia, with a gasp and a sob, as she sank back in her chair and covered her burning face with her hands.

The judge laid down his knife and fork and gazed at his daughter, muttering:

"That is unfortunate; very unfortunate! No, he will never get over that reproach; so far, you are right, Claudia."

"Oh, no, I am wrong; basely wrong! He saved my life, and I speak these words of him, as if he were answerable for the sins of others--as if his great misfortune was his crime! Poor Ishmael! Poor, noble-hearted boy! He saved my life, papa, at the price of deadly peril and terrible suffering to himself. Oh, reward him well, lavishly, munificently; but send him away! I cannot bear his presence here!" exclaimed the excited girl.

"Claudia, it is natural that you should be shocked at hearing such a piece of news; which, true or false, certainly ought never to have been brought to your ear. But, my dear, there is no need of all this excitement on your part. I do not understand its excess. The youth is a good, intelligent, well-mannered boy, when all is said. Of course he can never attain the position of a gentleman; but that is no reason why he should be utterly cast out. And as to sending him away, now, there are several reasons why I cannot do that: In the first place, he is not able to go; in the second, I need his pen; in the third, I have made an engagement with him which I will not break. As for the rest, Claudia, you need not be troubled with a sight of him; I will take care that he does not intrude upon your presence," said the judge, as he arose from the table.

Claudia threw on her garden hat and hurried out of the house to bury herself in the shadows of the forest. That day she had learned, from the gossip of old Mrs. Jones, who was on a visit to a married daughter in the neighborhood, Ishmael's real history, or what was supposed to be his real history. She had struggled for composure all day long, and only utterly lost her self-possession in the conversation with her father at the dinner-table. Now she sought the depths of the forest, because she could not bear the sight of a human face. Her whole nature was divided and at war with itself. All that was best in Claudia Merlin's heart and mind was powerfully and constantly attracted by the moral and intellectual excellence of Ishmael Worth; but all the prejudices of her rank and education were revolted by the circumstances attending his birth, and were up in arms against the emotions of her better nature.

In what consists the power of the quiet forest shades to calm fierce human passions? I know not; but it is certain that, after walking two or three hours through their depths communing with her own spirit, Claudia Merlin returned home in a better mood to meet her father at the tea-table.

"Papa," she said, as she seated herself at the head of the table and made tea, "you need not trouble yourself to keep Ishmael out of my way. Dreadful as this discovery is, he is not to blame, poor boy. And I think we had better not make any change in our treatment of him; he would be wounded by our coldness; he would not understand it and we could not explain. Besides, the six weeks will soon be over, and then we shall be done with him."

"I am glad to hear you say so, my dear; especially as I had invited Ishmael to join us at tea this evening, and forgotten to tell you of it until this moment. But, Claudia, my little girl," said the judge, scrutinizing her pale cheeks and heavy eyes, "you must not take all the sin and sorrows of the world as much to heart as you have this case; for, if you do, you will be an old woman before you are twenty years of age."

Claudia smiled faintly; but before she could reply the regular monotonous thump of a crutch, was heard approaching the door, and in another moment Ishmael stood within the room.

There was nothing in that fine intellectual countenance, with its fair, broad, calm forehead, thoughtful eyes, and finely curved lips, to suggest the idea of an ignoble birth. With a graceful bow and sweet smile and a perfectly well-bred manner, Ishmael approached and took his seat at the table. The judge took his crutch and set it up in the corner, saying:

"I see you have discarded one crutch, my boy! You will be able to discard the other in a day or so."

"Yes, sir; I only retain this one in compliance with the injunctions of the doctor, who declares that I must not bear full weight upon the injured limb yet," replied Ishmael courteously.

No one could have supposed from the manner of the youth that he had not been accustomed to mingle on equal terms in the best society.

Claudia poured out the tea. She was not deficient in courtesy; but she could not bring herself, as yet, to speak to Ishmael with her usual ease and freedom. When tea was over she excused herself and retired. Claudia was not accustomed to seek Divine help. And so, in one of the greatest straits of her moral experience, without one word of prayer, she threw herself upon her bed, where she lay tossing about, as yet too agitated with mental conflict to sleep.

Ishmael improved in health and grew in favor with his employer. He walked daily from his chamber to the library without the aid of a crutch. He took his meals with the family. And oh! ruinous extravagance, he wore his Sunday suit every day! There was no help for it, since he must sit in the judge's library and eat at the judge's table.

Claudia treated him well; with the inconsistency of girlish nature, since she had felt such a revulsion towards him, and despite of it resolved to be kind to him, she went to the extreme and treated him better than ever.

The judge was unchanged in his manner to the struggling youth.

And so the time went on and the month of November arrived.

Ishmael kept the Rushy Shore schoolhouse in mind. Up to this time no schoolmaster had been found to undertake its care. And Ishmael resolved if it should remain vacant until his engagement with the judge should be finished, he would then take it himself.

All this while Ishmael, true to the smallest duty, had not neglected Reuben Gray's account-books. They had been brought to him by Gray every week to be posted up. But it was the second week in November before Ishmael was able to walk to Woodside to see Hannah's babes, now fine children of nearly three months of age. Of course Ishmael, in the geniality of his nature, was delighted with them; and equally, of course, he delighted their mother with their praises.

The last two weeks in November were devoted by the judge and his family to preparations for their departure.

As the time slipped and the interval of their stay grew shorter and shorter, Ishmael began to count the days, treasuring each precious day that still gave him to the sight of Claudia.

On the last day but one before their departure, all letters having been finished, the judge was in his library, selecting books to be packed and sent off to his city residence. Ishmael was assisting him. When their task was completed, the judge turned to the youth and said:

"Now, Ishmael, I will leave the keys of the library in your possession. You will come occasionally to see that all is right here; and you will air and dust the books, and in wet weather have a fire kindled to keep them from molding, for in the depths of this forest it is very damp in winter. In recompense for your care of the library, Ishmael, I will give you the use of such law books as you may need to continue your studies. Here is a list of works that I recommend you to read in the order in which they are written down," said the judge, handing the youth a folded paper.

"I thank you, sir; I thank you very much," answered Ishmael fervently.

"You can either read them here, or take them home with you, just as you please," continued the judge.

"You are very kind, and I am very grateful, sir."

"It seems to me I am only just, and scarcely that, Ishmael! The county court opens at Shelton on the first of December. I would strongly recommend you to attend its sessions and watch its trials; it will be a very good school for you, and a great help to the progress of your studies."

"Thank you, sir, I will follow your advice."

"And after a while I hope you will be able to go for a term or two to one of the good Northern law schools."

"I hope so, sir; and for that purpose I must work hard."

"And if you should ever succeed in getting admitted to the bar, Ishmael, I should advise you to go to the Far West. It may seem premature to give you this counsel now, but I give it, while I think of it, because after parting with you I may never see you again."

"Again I thank you, Judge Merlin; but if ever that day of success should come for me, it will find me in my native State. I have an especial reason for fixing my home here; and here I must succeed or fail!" said Ishmael earnestly, as he thought of his mother's early death and unhonored grave, and his vow to rescue her memory from reproach.

"It appears to me that your native place would be the last spot on earth where you, with your talents, would consent to remain," said the judge significantly.

"I have a reason--a sacred reason, sir," replied Ishmael earnestly, yet with some reserve in his manner.

"A reason 'with which the stranger intermeddleth not,' I suppose?"

Ishmael bowed gravely, in assent.

"Very well, my young friend; I will not inquire what it may be," said Judge Merlin, who was busying himself at his writing bureau, among some papers, from which he selected one, which he brought forward to the youth, saying:

"Here, Ishmael--here is a memorandum of your services, which I have taken care to keep; for I knew full well that if I waited for you to present me a bill, I might wait forever. You will learn to do such things, however, in time. Now I find by my memorandum that I owe you about sixty dollars. Here is the money. There, now, do not draw back and flush all over your face at the idea of taking money you have well earned. Oh, but you will get over that in time, and when you are a lawyer you will hold out your hand for a thumping fee before you give an opinion on a case!" laughed the judge, as he forced a roll of banknotes into Ishmael's hands, and left the library.

The remainder of the day was spent in sending off wagon loads of boxes to the landing on the river side, where they were taken off by a rowboat, and conveyed on board the "Canvas Back," that lay at anchor opposite Tanglewood, waiting for the freight, to transport it to the city.

On the following Saturday morning the judge and his daughter left Tanglewood for Washington. They traveled in the private carriage, driven by the heroic Sam, and attended by a mounted groom. The parting, which shook Ishmael's whole nature like a storm, nearly rending soul and body asunder, seemed to have but little effect upon Miss Merlin. She went through it with great decorum, shaking hands with Ishmael, wishing him success, and hoping to see him, some fine day, on the bench!

This Claudia said laughing, as with good-humored raillery.

But Ishmael bowed very gravely, and though his heart was breaking, answered calmly:

"I hope so too, Miss Merlin. We shall see."

"Au revoir!" said Claudia, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Until we meet!" answered Ishmael solemnly, as he closed the carriage door and gave the coachman the word to drive off.

As the carriage rolled away the beautiful girl, who was its sole passenger, and whose eyes had been sparkling with mirth but an instant before, now threw her hands up to her face, fell back in her seat, and burst into a tempest of sobs and tears.

Ignorant of what was going on within its curtained inclosure, Ishmael remained standing and gazing after the vanishing carriage, which was quickly lost to view in the deep shadows of the forest road, until Judge Merlin, who at the last moment had decided to travel on horseback, rode up to take leave of him and follow the carriage.

"Well, good-by, my young friend! Take care of yourself," were the last adieus of the judge, as he shook hands with Ishmael, and rode away.

"I wish you a pleasant journey, sir," were the final words of Ishmael, sent after the galloping horse.

Then the young man, with desolation in his heart, turned into the house to set the library in order, lock it up, and remove his own few personal effects from the premises.

Reuben Gray, who had come up to assist the judge, receive his final orders, and see him off, waited outside with his light wagon to take Ishmael and his luggage home to Woodside. Reuben helped Ishmael to transfer his books, clothing, etc., to the little wagon. And then Ishmael, after having taken leave of Aunt Katie, and left a small present in her hand, jumped into his seat and was driven off by Reuben.

The arrangement at Tanglewood had occupied nearly the whole of the short winter forenoon, so that it was twelve o'clock meridian when they reached Woodside.

They found a very comfortable sitting room awaiting them. Reuben in the pride of paternity had refurnished it. There was a warm red carpet on the floor; warm red curtains at the windows; a bright fire burning in the fireplace; a neat dinner-table set out, and, best of all, Hannah seated in a low rocking chair, with one rosy babe on her lap and another in the soft, white cradle bed by her side. Hannah laid the baby she held beside its brother in the cradle, and arose and went to Ishmael, warmly welcoming him home again, saying:

"Oh, my dear boy, I am so glad you have come back! I will make you happier with us, lad, than you have ever been before."

"You have always been very good to me, Aunt Hannah," said Ishmael warmly, returning her embrace.

"No, I haven't, Ishmael, no, I haven't, my boy; but I will be. Sally, bring in the fish directly. You know very well that Ishmael don't like rock-fish boiled too much," she said by way of commencement.

The order was immediately obeyed, and the family sat down to the table. The thrifty overseer's wife had provided a sumptuous dinner in honor of her nephew's return. The thriving overseer could afford to be extravagant once in a while. Ah! very different were those days of plenty at Woodside to those days of penury at the Hill hut. And Hannah thought of the difference, as she dispensed the good things from the head of her well-supplied table. The rock-fish with egg sauce was followed by a boiled ham and roast ducks with sage dressing, and the dinner was finished off with apple pudding and mince pies and new cider.

Ishmael tried his best to do justice to the luxuries affection had provided for him; but after all he could not satisfy the expectation of Hannah, who complained bitterly of his want of appetite.

After dinner, when the young man had gone upstairs to arrange his books and clothes in his own room, and had left Hannah and Reuben alone, Hannah again complained of Ishmael's derelictions to the duty of the dinner-table.

"It's no use talking, Hannah; he can't help it. His heart is so full--so full, that he aint got room in his insides for no victuals! And that's just about the truth on't. 'Twas the same with me when I was young and in love long o' you! And wa'n't you contrairy nyther? Lord, Hannah, why when you used to get on your high horse with me, I'd be offen my feed for weeks and weeks together. My heart would be swelled up to my very throat, and my stomach wouldn't be nowhar!"

"Reuben, don't be a fool, it's not becoming in the father of a family," said Mrs. Hannah, proudly glancing at the twins.

"Law, so it isn't, so it isn't, Hannah, woman. But surely I was only a-telling of you what ailed Ishmael, as he was off his feed."

"But what foolishness and craziness and sottishness for Ishmael to be in love with Miss Merlin!" exclaimed Hannah impatiently.

"Law, woman, who ever said love was anything else but craziness and the rest of it," laughed Gray.

"But Miss Merlin thinks no more of Ishmael than she does of the dirt under her feet," said Hannah bitterly.

"Begging your pardon, she thinks a deal more of him than she'd like anybody to find out," said honest Reuben, winking.

"How did you find it out then?" inquired his wife.

"Law, Hannah, I haven't been fried and froze, by turn, with all sorts of fever and ague love fits, all the days of my youth, without knowing of the symptoms. And I tell you as how the high and mighty heiress, Miss Claudia Merlin, loves the very buttons on our Ishmael's coat better nor she loves the whole world and all the people in it besides. And no wonder! for of all the young men as ever I seed, gentlemen or workingmen, Ishmael Worth is the handsomest in his looks, and his manners, and his speech, and all. And I believe, though I am not much of a judge, as he is the most intelligentest and book-larnedest. I never seed his equal yet. Why, Hannah, I don't believe as there is e'er a prince a-livin' as has finer manners--I don't!"

"But, Reuben, do you mean what you say? Do you really think Miss Claudia Merlin condescends to like Ishmael? I have heard of ladies doing such strange things sometimes; but Miss Claudia Merlin!"

"I told you, and I tell you again, as she loves the very buttons offen Ishmael's coat better nor she loves all the world besides. But she is as proud as Lucifer, and ready to tear her own heart out of her bosom for passion and spite, because she can't get Ishmael out of it! She'll never marry him, if you mean that; though I know sometimes young ladies will marry beneath them for love; but Miss Merlin will never do that. She would fling herself into burning fire first!"

The conversation could go no farther, for the subject of it was heard coming down the stairs, and the next moment he opened the door and entered the room.

He took a seat near Hannah, smiling and saying:

"For this one afternoon I will take a holiday, Aunt Hannah, and enjoy the society of yourself and the babies."

"So do, Ishmael," replied the pleased and happy mother. And in the very effort to shake off his gloom and please and be pleased, Ishmael found his sadness alleviated.

He was never weary of wondering at Hannah and her children. To behold his maiden aunt in the character of a wife had been a standing marvel to Ishmael. To contemplate her now as a mother was an ever-growing delight to the genial boy. She had lost all her old-maidish appearance. She was fleshier, fairer, and softer to look upon. And she wore a pretty bobbinet cap and a bright-colored calico wrapper, and she busied herself with needlework while turning the cradle with her foot, and humming a little nursery song. As for Reuben, he arose as Ishmael sat down, stood contemplating his domestic bliss for a few minutes, and then took his hat and went out upon his afternoon rounds among the field laborers. A happy man was Reuben Gray!