Part 17 (2/2)
Among those whom the pa.s.sing barks had drawn in unusual numbers to the river's side, were the daughters of Colonel D'Egville, whose almost daily practice it was to take the air in that direction, where there was so much of the sublime beauty of American scenery to arrest the attention. Something more however than that vague curiosity, which actuated the ma.s.s, seemed to have drawn the sisters to the bank, and one who had watched them narrowly, most have observed, that their interest was not divided among the many barks that glided onward to the lake, but was almost exclusively attracted by one, which now lay to, with her light bows breasting the current like a swan, and apparently waiting either for a boat which had been dispatched to the sh.o.r.e, or with an intention to send one. This vessel was filled in every part with troops, wearing the blue uniform of the American regular army, while those in advance were freighted with the irregulars and backwoodsmen.
”Is not this, Julia, the vessel to which the Commodore promised to promote Gerald, in reward of his gallant conduct last week?” asked the timid Gertrude, with a sigh, as they stood stationary for a few moments, watching the issue of the manoeuvre just alluded to.
”It is, Gertrude,” was the answer of one whose fixed eye and abstracted thought, betokened an interest in the same vessel, of a nature wholly different from that of her questioner.
”How very odd, then, he does not come on sh.o.r.e to us.
I am sure he must see us, and it would not take him two minutes to let us know he is unhurt, and to shake hands with us. It is very unkind of him I think.”
Struck by the peculiar tone in which the last sentence had been uttered, Julia D'Egville turned her eyes full upon those of her sister. The latter, could not stand the inquiring gaze, but sought the ground, while a conscious blush confirmed the suspicion.
”Dearest Gertrude,” she said, as she drew the clasped arm of her sister more fondly within her own; ”I see how it is; but does he love you in return. Has he ever told you so, or hinted it. Tell me my dear girl.”
”Never,” faltered the sensitive Gertrude, and she hung her head, to conceal the tear that trembled in her eye.
Her sister sighed deeply, and pressed the arm she held more closely within her own. ”My own own sister, for worlds I would not pain you; but if you would be happy, you must not yield to this preference for our cousin.
Did you not remark how completely he seemed captivated by Miss Montgomerie? Depend upon it, his affections are centered in her.”
Gertrude made no reply, but tears trickled down her cheeks, as they both slowly resumed their walk along the beach. Presently the splash of oars was heard, and turning quickly to discover the cause, Julia saw a boat leave the vessel, at which they had just been looking, and pull immediately towards them. In the stern stood an officer in American uniform, whom the eyes of Love were not slow to distinguish, even in the growing dusk of evening.
”It is Ernest,” exclaimed the excited girl, forgetting for a moment her sister in herself. ”I thought he would not have departed without seeking to see me.”
A few strokes of the oars were sufficient to bring the boat to the sh.o.r.e. The American stepped out, and leaving the boat to follow the direction of the vessel, now drifting fast with the current towards the outlet, which the remainder of the flotilla had already pa.s.sed, pursued his course along the sands in earnest conversation with the sisters, or rather with one of them, for poor Gertrude, after the first salutation, seemed to have lost all inclination to speak.
”Fate, dearest Julia,” said the officer despondingly, ”has decreed our interview earlier than I had expected.
However, under all circ.u.mstances, I may esteem myself happy, to have seen you at all. I am indebted for this favor to the officer commanding yonder vessel, in which our regiment is embarked, for the satisfaction, melancholy as it is, of being enabled to bid you a temporary farewell.”
”Then are we both indebted to one of my own family for the happiness; for that it is a happiness, Ernest, I can answer from the depression of my spirits just now, when I feared you were about to depart without seeing me at all. The officer in command of your vessel is, or ought to be, a cousin of our own.”
”Indeed!--then is he doubly ent.i.tled to my regard. But, Julia, let the brief time that is given us, be devoted to the arrangement of plans for the future. I will not for a moment doubt your faith, after what occurred at our last interview; but shall I be certain of finding you here, when later we return to wash away the stain this day's proceedings have thrown upon our national honor. Forgive me, if I appear to mix up political feelings, with private grief, but it cannot be denied, (and he smiled faintly through the mortification evidently called up by the recollection,) that to have one's honor attainted, and to lose one's mistress in the same day, are heavier taxes on human patience, than it can be expected a soldier should quietly bear.”
”And when I am yours at a later period, I suppose you will expect me to be as interested in the national honor, as you are,” replied Julia, anxious to rally him on a subject she felt, could not but be painful to a man of high feelings, as she fully believed the Colonel to be.
How are we to reconcile such clas.h.i.+ng interests? How am I so far to overcome my natural love for the country which gave me birth, as to rejoice in its subjugation by yours; and yet, that seems to be the eventual object at which you hint. Your plan, if I understand right, is to return here with an overwhelming army; overrun the province, and make me your property by fight of conquest, while all connected with me, by blood, or friends.h.i.+p, are to be borne into captivity. If we marry, sir, we must draw lots which of us shall adopt a new country.”
”Nay dearest Julia, this pleasantry is unseasonable. I certainly do intend, provided I am exchanged in time to return here with the army, which I doubt not will be instantly dispatched to restore our blighted fame, and then I shall claim you as my own. Will you then hesitate to become mine? Even as the daughter forsakes the home of her father without regret, to pa.s.s her days with him who is to her father, mother, all the charities of life, in short--so should she forsake her native land, adopting in preference that to which her husband is attached by every tie of honor, and of duty. However, let us hope that ere long, the folly of this war will be seen, and that the result of such perception, will be a peace founded on such permanent basis, that each shall be bound, by an equal tie of regard, to the home of the other.”
”Let us hope so,” eagerly replied Julia. ”But what has become of our friend, Miss Montgomerie, in all the confusion of this day. Or am I right in supposing that she and her uncle, are of the number of those embarked in my cousin's vessel?”
The name of the interesting American, coupled as it was, with that of one infinitely more dear to her caused Gertrude for the first time, to look up in the face of the officer, in expectation of his reply. She was struck by the sadden paleness that came over his features again, as en the former occasion, when allusion was made to her at his recent visit to Amherstburgh. He saw that his emotion was remarked, and fought to bide it under an appearance of unconcern, as he replied:
”Neither Miss Montgomerie nor her uncle are embarked.
The latter, I regret to say, has been one of the few victims who have fallen.”
”What! dead--that excellent kind old man--dead, demanded the listen, nearly in the same breath?”
”No; not dead--but I fear with little hope of life. He was desperately wounded soon after day-break this morning, and when I saw hi half an hour afterwards, he had been given over by the surgeons.”
”Poor old Major,” sighed Gertrude; ”I felt when he was here the other day, that I could bare loved him almost as my owe father. How broken-hearted Miss Montgomerie must be at his loss.”
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