The Knight Of The Golden Melice, John Turvill Adams [the reading list TXT] 📗
- Author: John Turvill Adams
Book online «The Knight Of The Golden Melice, John Turvill Adams [the reading list TXT] 📗». Author John Turvill Adams
The Direction Of Their Own Country."
"Toweringantic Was The Salvage's Name," Said Prudence. "I Remember It
Very Well, Because It Sounds So Like English."
That Is It Not Precisely," Said The Young Lady, With A Smile; "But It
Matters Not About The Name. Our Little Princess Has Fled To Her Home,
And I Am Left Without A Bridesmaid."
"The Ungrateful Heathen!" Exclaimed The Dame. "Only To Think Of Her
Deserting The Comfortable House Of Our Right Worshipful Governor, And
Instruction In The Christian Graces By Godly Master Phillips, For The
Smoky Wigwams And Powawing Of The Indians. The Girl, I Am Sure, Will
Come To No Good, And I Will Never Trust One Of These Canaanites
Again."
"Nay; But Dame," Said Eveline, "I Rejoice That She Escaped. I Did Much
Pity Her In Her Captivity, For She Seemed To Me Like A Wild Bird, That
Hath All Its Life Been Accustomed To Fly In The Air, Which Had Been
Caught And Put Into A Cage, Where It Sits Constantly With Moping Head
And Drooping Wings, Forgetful Of The Songs Which Made Its Woodland
Home So Sweet."
"I Did Never Like To Disagree In Opinion With Thee, Eveline," Said The
Dame, "And Leastwise Would I Do So, Of All Days In The Year, On Thy
Wedding-Day; So Have It As Thou Wilt. For Thy Sweet Sake, Whom I Am So
Soon To Lose, I Could Find It In My Heart To Be Pleased At Anything
The Little Savage Might Do, Were She Twenty Times A Heathen Amalakite
Or Jebusite."
"Dame," Said Eveline, Kissing Her Comely Cheek, "How Shall I Ever Be
Able To Repay Thy Motherly Kindness? O, Wherever I May Be, And
Whatever My Lot, I Will Ever Think Of Thee As My Second Mother."
"Dear Child," Replied The Dame, Moved To Tears, Which Flowed With
Womanly Facility, "Never Had Mother A Sweeter And More Loving Daughter
Than Thou Hast Been To Me. Hast Thou Not Done More Than Most
Daughters, In Giving Me All The Property That Remains To Thee Here?"
"Speak Not Of It, Dame," Answered Eveline, "Though It Is Miles' Gift,
For He Desired Me To Give It Thee."
"Oh! Dame, Do Not Disturb My Young Lady More, For If You Get Her
Crying, Think How Her Eyes Would Look," Here Interposed Prudence, Very
Sensibly.
"It Is Time That I Were Attending To My Own Apparelling, Which, In
Looking At Thee, I Quite Forgot," Said The Widow, Rising, And Leaving
The Apartment.
The Marriage, Which Took Place At The House Of The Governor, Was
Private, And Attended Only By Some Of The Principal Personages Of The
Colony And Their Families. Besides The Knight Of The Golden Melice,
Sir Richard Saltonstall, Who Was To Sail In The Same Ship With The
Young People, Came With His Two Daughters, As Did Also Master Increase
Nowell, And Master Bradstreet. No Minister Was Present, The Order
Resenting, It May Be, In A Quiet Way, An Invasion Of Their
Prerogative, Which Excluded Them From Business Of This Sort; But In
The Solemn And Graceful Manner In Which The Accomplished Winthrop
Performed The Ceremony, No One Noticed Any Deficiency, Not Even
Eveline Herself, Who, Indeed, Was Thinking Of Other Matters. Winthrop
Concluded His Part With A Little Speech, In Which He Reminded The
Young Couple Of The New Duties They Had Assumed, And Of The Loving
Mystery Whereby Two Souls Were United Into One, Like Two Brooks,
Which, Pouring Each Into The Other Their Bright Waters, Flow On,
Inseparably Joined, To The Ocean Of Eternity. Something He Said, Too,
Of The Blessedness Of A True Faith, As A Crowning Glory, Without Which
The World Was But An Unprofitable Desert.
Scarcely Had The Congratulations Which Followed The Sweet Voice Of The
Governor Ceased, When A Stranger, An Honored Friend Of Master
Bradstreet, And Who Had Come With Him, Stepped Forward, And Saluting
Arundel By The Title Of The Earl Of Cliffmere, Informed Him That He
Had Matters Of Importance To Communicate.
"I Had Waited Upon You, My Lord, Before," He Said, "Even Upon The
Instant Of My Arrival, Had I Known Where To Find You; But I Suspected
You Not Under Your Assumed Name."
"I Welcome You," Said The Earl, Advancing And Taking The Stranger's
Hand, "I Welcome You, Master Hatherly, To The New World, Which I This
Day Leave, Probably Forever. As For Thy News, I Think Thou Art
Anticipated: I Am Informed By Letters Brought By The Vessel Wherein
You Came, That My Father And Eldest Brother Are No More, And That The
Coronet Which I Would Willingly Place Upon Their Living Brows, Alas,
Is Mine. Wonderful Is The Drama Of Life. I Abandoned Rank And
Fortune," He Added, Looking With Eyes Swimming In Love Upon His Wife,
"To Seek That Without Which They Possessed No Value. They Have Pursued
Me Across The Sea, And, Besides, I Have Obtained My Dearest Treasure."
The Astonished Eveline Hid Her Face In The Bosom Of Her Husband, While
Tears Of Happiness Fell Fast. Bewildered, Amazed At The Discovery Of
The Rank Of Her Lover, She Knew Not What To Say; But Amid All Her
Confusion, Prevailed Triumphantly A Sense Of Sparkling Joy, Of Full
Contentment, And Of Radiant Hope.
"Why Should I Conceal From You, Noble Winthrop, From You, My Valued
Friend, Sir Christopher, Or From Any Of You, My Other Friends, With
Whom I Would Leave No Unsatisfactory Remembrance Of Myself, The Little
Romance That Brought Me Among You," Continued The Earl. "Know, That A
Second Son Of The Deceased Earl Of Cliffmere, I Wooed, In The
Character Of An Humble Painter, The Sweet Daughter Of Edmund Dunning.
He Aspired Higher Than To Unite The Destinies Of His Only Child With
Those Of An Unknown Artist, And Looked Coldly On My Suit. He Left
England With Her, And I, Unable To Endure The Pangs Of Separation,
Desired To Follow. My Mother Knew Of My Attachment From The Beginning,
And To My Entreaties Yielded Her Acquiescence To My Desires, For She
Loved Me Greatly, And Had Informed Herself Of The Worth Of Her To Whom
I Had Given My Heart, But Required Me To Wait For The Permission Of My
Father (Absent At The Time On The Continent) Before I Followed Eveline
To This New World. That Permission I Received, And Straightway
Departed. Still I Continued To Conceal My True Name And Station From
Even Eveline Herself, For A Reason, Perhaps, More Romantic Than
Rational; For, With Selfish Jealousy, I Chose To Be Loved For My Own
Sake, Nor Did I Mean My Secret Should Be Revealed Until I Had
Presented My Wife To My Parents,--But The Curtain Has Been
Unexpectedly Lifted, And Ye Know All."
"I Congratulate You, My Lord," Said Winthrop, "And Will Venture To Do
So Also In The Name Of All Present, Upon The Auspicious Termination Of
Your Fortunes Among Us, And Only Lament That So Little Time Is Left Us
To Express Our Respect. When Returned To Our Dear Mother England, From
Whose Bosom We Are Self-Banished, Yet Whom, With Filial Reverence, We
Love, We Trust That You Will Not Forget Your Brethren In The
Wilderness. It Is Upon The Far-Seeing Judgment Of Those In High
Places, As Well As Upon The Zeal Of The People, [All Under God,] That
We Rely To Assist Us In Extending The Material And Earthly Power Of
Our Country, As Well As In Spreading The Doctrines Of True Religion."
"Be Sure, Sir," Answered The Earl, "That I Will Endeavor To Do My Duty
Toward You According To My Honest Convictions. And Now, Eveline, Bid
Farewell. The Favoring Breeze Is Bellying In The Half Unfurled Sails,
Gallant Captain Sparhawk Is Impatient, And We Must Away."
Lady Eveline Fell Upon The Neck Of The Weeping Dame Spikeman, And
After Kissing Her Repeatedly, Exchanged Farewells With Those Around
Her, [As Did All About To Depart,] And Then, Accompanied By A Numerous
Train, The Passengers Proceeded To The Ship, Whither The Lady
Geraldine Had Preceded Them, And Where, Also, They Found Philip Joy.
The Sails Were Cast Off From The Yards And Hoisted Home; The Fair Wind
Gracefully Curved The Canvas, And The Good Ship, With Silver Waves
Breaking At Her Prow, And A Stream Of Light Following In Her Wake,
Gallantly Stood Down The Bay.
Chapter XXXVII(So, Splendid Dreams, And Slumbers Sweet, To Each And All--Good Night.)
William E. Hurlout.
Here Might This Tale Be Permitted To End, Were It Not That A Doubt Has
Arisen In My Mind Whether Some Particulars Do Not Need Explanation.
Doubtless The Nimble Wits Of The Sagacious Have Fathomed To Their
Satisfaction All That Seemed Mysterious; But There May Be Others Who,
Either Less Imaginative Or More Indolent, Would Like An Elaborate
Elucidation. These Latter I Invite To Accompany Me Across The Blue
Atlantic To The Pleasant Town Of Exeter, In The Lovely County Of
Devon, In England.
In The Nave Of The Splendid Old Cathedral Of That Town, Two Men,
Engaged In Conversation, Are Walking Backwards And Forwards, One Of
Whom We Recognize As The Knight Of The Golden Melice; The Other Is A
Stranger. Through The Stained Glass, The Dim Light Of A Winter's
Afternoon Falls Indistinctly On The Stone Floor, While From Behind The
Screen Which Separates The Open Area Where They Are Pacing From The
Portion Devoted To Religious Worship, The Solemn Tones Of An Organ
(For It Is The Time Of Evening Service) Are Floating Around The Massy
Pillars And Among The Sculptured Arches, As If Imploring Saintly Rest
For The High Born Nobles And Reverend Bishops Who, For Hundreds Of
Years, Have Lain In Their Marble Tombs Around. None Are Present Save
The Two, And, As With Reverent Feet They Tread, They Seem Dwarfed Into
Children By The Huge Proportions Of The Building.
"Two Beings More Blessed With Mutual Affection Than The Young Earl Of
Cliffmere And His Lovely Countess I Know Not," Said The Knight,
Continuing The Conversation. "Three Weeks Remained I With Them In
Their Magnificent Palace At London, The Attractions Whereof Were
Tenfold Heightened By His Courteous Bearing And Her Graciousness. Nor
Could I Without Difficulty Tear Myself Away, So Lovingly They
Delighted To Dwell Upon The Time When, As Miles Arundel, He Wooed
Eveline Dunning, Or Hunted With Me, In The Wilds Of America, And So
Sweet Were Their Attentions To My Chafed Spirit. With Them Is My
Trusty Philip, Whose Trials Are Now Over, While He Basks In The Favor
Of The Earl And The Smiles Of The Pretty Prudence, His Wife,
Undisturbed Save By Her Occasional Coquetry, Which Only Serves, I
Suppose, To Make His Love More Piquant."
"A Pleasing Episode In Your Romantic Life," Said The Stranger; But
Know You Perfectly How You Came To Leave America So Suddenly?"
"There Is A Mystery Connected Therewith Which Hath Ever Puzzled Me,"
Replied The Knight.
"How Felt You In Reference To The Plan Of Converting An English Into A
French Colony?"
"I Did Never Either Feel Therefor Inclination, Or Give It The
Approbation Of My Judgment. I Cannot Forget That I Am An Englishman."
"And Did Sister Celestina Know Your Sentiments?" Inquired The
Stranger.
"Surely. Wherefore Should I Have Hesitated To Bestow On One So Devoted
My Absolute Confidence?"
"_Ne Crede Principibus_," Said The Stranger, "Is No More Worthy Of
Acceptance Than _Ne Crede Feminis_."
"Chosen Friend Of My Soul, Sworn Brother Of My Heart," Exclaimed The
Knight, "I Conjure Thee To Tell Me What Thou Knowest Or Dost Suspect
Of These Mysterious Circumstances."
"Thou Hast Borne, Beloved Friend, A Cross, Whereof Thou Knewest Not.
You Were Betrayed, Like Him Whose Name You Bear Even In The House Of
Your Friends."
"A Light Begins To Dawn Upon My Mind. And Sister Celestina--"
"Aye, Sister Celestina, Or, As She Must Now Be Called, The Abbess Of
St. Idlewhim, Was The Traitress. Yet, Why Call I Her So? She Did But
Obey Her Vow."
"May It Please Thee, Albert, To Be More Explicit?"
"Know, Then," Said The Stranger, "That It Was In Consequence Of
Representations From Sister Celestina Thou Wast Recalled."
"How Knowest Thou This To Be True?"
"Ask Me Not, For That I Dare Not Reveal; But I Swear, By The Bones Of
Loyola, And By Our Mutual Friendship, That It Is The Sincere Truth.
Father ---- (I
Comments (0)