Part 11 (1/2)

Again she rung the bell.

”Does no one know of your being out?” asked the watchman.

”All are asleep in the house,” replied Mrs. Howland.

At this the watchman came up the steps, and struck two or three heavy blows upon the door with his mace, the sound of which went reverberating through the house, and startling Mr. Howland from his slumber. But not perceiving immediately that his wife was absent from her place by his side, and thinking that his son had renewed his efforts to gain admission, the latter did not make a motion to rise. In a few moments, however, the repeated strokes of the mace, to which was added the loud call of a man in the street below caused him to start up in bed. He then perceived that his wife was not by his side. With an exclamation, he sprang upon the floor, and throwing up the window, called out--

”Who's there?”

”Come down and open the door,” was answered by the watchman.

”Who wants to come in?” asked Mr. Howland, his mind beginning by this time to get a little clear from the confusion into which it was at first thrown.

”I do,” replied a voice that threw all into bewilderment again.

”Bless me! What does this mean!” exclaimed Mr. Howland, aloud, yet speaking to himself.

”Open the door, quickly,” called out Mrs. Howland, in a tone of distress. ”Come down and let me in.”

Hurriedly Mr. Howland now dressed himself and went down. As he opened the door, his wife glided past him, and ran up stairs. The watchman retired without speaking to the confused and astonished husband, who, recovering his presence of mind, reclosed the door and followed his wife to their chamber.

”Esther! What is the meaning of all this?” asked Mr. Howland, with much severity of manner.

But there was no reply.

”Will you speak?” said he, in a tone of authority.

The home-tyrant had gone a step too far. The meek, patient, long-suffering, much enduring wife, was in no state of mind to bear further encroachments in the direction from which they were now coming. Suddenly she raised herself up from whence she had fallen across the bed, and looking at her husband with an expression that caused him to step back a pace, involuntarily answered.

”By what authority do you speak to me thus?”

”By the authority vested in me as your husband,” was promptly answered.

”I was on G.o.d's errand, Mr. Howland; searching after the weak, the simple, and the erring! Have you anything to say against the mission? Does your authority reach above His?”

And the mother, lifting her hand, pointed trembling finger upward, while she fixed an eye upon her husband so steady that his own sunk beneath its gaze.

For the s.p.a.ce of nearly a minute, the att.i.tude of neither changed, nor was the silence broken. Twice during the time did Mr. Howland lift his eyes to those of his wife, and each time did they fall, after a few moments, under the strange half-defiant look they encountered. At last he said firmly, yet in a more subdued, though rebuking voice,

”This to me, Esther?”

”Am I not a mother?” was asked in response to this, yet without a perceptible tremor in her voice.

”You are a wife, as well as a mother,” replied Mr. Howland, ”and, as a wife, are under a sacred obligation to regard the authority committed to your husband by G.o.d.”

”Have I not just said to you,” returned Mrs. Howland, ”that I was on G.o.d's errand? Does your authority go beyond His?”

”When did He speak to you?” There was a covert sneer in the tone with which this half impious interrogation was made.

”I heard his still, small voice in my mother's heart,” replied Mrs.