Volume Ii Part 50 (1/2)
Again a moment's pause ensued.
”I must not forget to tell you, love, that we owe a great deal to another friend of ours,” said Harry, smiling. ”You will be glad to hear that Bruno behaved n.o.bly; he first discovered the ropes in which we were entangled.”
”Bruno!--Where is my n.o.ble dog? Pray call him; let me see him!”
Harry went to the door, and there was Bruno lying across the threshold, as if waiting to be admitted; he came in at Harry's call, but not with his usual bound; he seemed to understand that if his old master had been saved, his master's friend was lost.
The n.o.ble creature was much caressed by Miss Wyllys and Elinor; and we are not ashamed to confess that the latter kissed him more than once. At length, Miss Agnes observing that her niece was very much recovered, rose from her seat, and stooping to kiss Elinor's forehead, placed her hand in that of Harry, saying with much feeling, as she joined them, ”G.o.d bless you, my children!”
and then left the room.
As for what pa.s.sed after Miss Agnes left her young friends, we cannot say; Bruno was the only witness to that interview between Harry and Elinor, and as Bruno was no tell-tale, nothing has ever transpired on the subject. We may suppose, however, that two young people, strongly attached to each other, united under such peculiar circ.u.mstances, did not part again until a conclusive and satisfactory explanation had taken place. Harry no doubt was enabled to quiet any scruples he may have felt with regard to Ellsworth; and probably Elinor was a.s.sured, that she had entirely mistaken Hazlehurst's feelings during the past summer; that Mrs.
Creighton was his friend's sister, and a charming woman, but not the woman he loved, not the woman he could ever love, after having known his Elinor. Then, as both parties were frank and warm-hearted, as they had known each other for years, and had just been reunited under circ.u.mstances so solemn, there was probably more truth, less reserve, and possibly more tenderness than usual at similar meetings. Doubtless there were some smiles; and to judge from the tone of both parties on separating, we think that some tears must have been shed. We are certain that amid their own intimate personal communications, the young friend so dear to both, so recently lost, was more than once remembered; while at the same time it is a fact, that another communication of some importance to Harry, the disclosures of Stebbins, was forgotten by him, or deferred until the interview was interrupted. Mr. Wyllys entered to let Harry know that Hubert de Vaux had come for him.
”De Vaux is here waiting for you, Harry,” said Mr. Wyllys, opening the drawing-room door.
”Is it possible, my dear sir?--Is it so late?” exclaimed Harry.
It was in fact de Vaux, come to accompany Harry to Longbridge, to meet the body of our poor Charlie: so closely, on that eventful day, were joy and sadness mingled to the friends at Wyllys-Roof.
Elinor had risen from her seat as her grandfather approached.
”You feel better, my child,” he said kindly.
”I am happy, grandpapa!--happy as I can be TO-DAY!” she added, blus.h.i.+ng, and weeping, and throwing her arms about his neck.
”It is all right, I see. May you be blessed, together, my children!” said the venerable man, uniting their hands.
After an instant's silence, Elinor made a movement to leave the room.
”I am going to Longbridge, but I shall hope to see you again in the evening,” said Harry, before she left him.
”When you come back, then. You are going to Longbridge, you say?”
”Yes,” Said Harry sadly; ”to meet Van Horne and Smith, with--”
Elinor made no reply; she understood his sad errand; offered him her hand again, and left the room. She retired to her own apartment, and remained there alone for a long time; and there the young girl fell on her knees, and offered up most fervent, heartfelt thanksgivings for the safety of one she loved truly, one she had long loved, so recently rescued from the grave.
That afternoon, just as the autumn sun was sinking towards the woods, throwing a rich, warm glow over the country, a simple procession was seen moving slowly and sadly over the Longbridge highway. It was the body of Charlie Hubbard, brought home by his friends, to pa.s.s a few hours beneath his mother's roof, ere it was consigned to its last resting-place under the sod. We have not yet dared to intrude upon the stricken inmates of the old grey cottage; we shall not attempt to paint their grief, such grief is sacred. The bereaved mother, half-infirm in body and mind, seemed to feel the blow without fully understanding it: Patsey, poor Patsey felt the affliction fully, comprehended it wholly. Charlie had been her idol from infancy; she had watched over the boy with an engrossing affection, an earnest devotion, which could be only compared to a mother's love, which might claim a mother's sacred name. She was entirely overcome when the young artist's body was brought into the house, and placed in the coffin, beneath his father's portrait.
”My boy!--my brother!--Charlie!” she cried wildly; all her usual calmness, her usual firmness giving way at the moment, as the young face she loved so tenderly was first disclosed to her view, pale and lifeless. But the fine features of the young artist, almost feminine in their delicate beauty, returned no answering glance--they were rigid, cold, and partially discoloured by death.
Hazlehurst and de Vaux pa.s.sed the night beside the body of their friend; Miss Agnes and Mrs. Van Horne were with the bereaved mother and sisters.
Early on the following morning, Mr. Wyllys and Elinor came to take a last look at their young friend.
'Can it indeed be true?--Charlie gone for ever, gone so suddenly!' thought Elinor, as she leaned over his body, weeping with the sincere, heartfelt grief of a true friend, until Hazlehurst, pained by her emotion, gently drew her away; not, however, before she had bent over poor Charlie, and gently kissed the discoloured forehead of her young companion, for the first and the last time.
Patsey's grief, though not less deep, was more calm than at first. Again and again she had returned to her young brother's coffin, with varying feelings; now overwhelmed by poignant grief, now partially soothed by the first balm of holy resignation; now alone, now accompanied by her friends. Once, early that morning, the infirm mother was brought into the room to look for the last time on the face of her son; she was carried in a chair and placed by the coffin, then a.s.sisted to rise by Miss Agnes and her daughter Kate. Her tears flowed long, falling on her boy's cold, but still beautiful features; she wiped them away herself, and with an humble phrase of resignation, in the words of Scripture, expressed the thought that ere long she should be laid by his side. Her's was not the bitter, living grief of Patsey; she felt that she was near the grave herself. Tears of gentle-hearted women were not the only tears which fell upon Charlie's bier; his uncles, his elder brothers, and more than one true friend were there. But amid all the strong, contending emotions of those who crowded the humble room, who hung over the coffin, still that youthful form lay rigid in the fearful chill, the awful silence of death; he, whose bright eye, whose pleasant smile had never yet met the look of a friend without the quick glance of intellect, or the glow of kindly feeling. Patsey felt the change; she felt that the being she loved was not all there, the dearer portion was already beyond her sight--and with this reflection came the blessed consolations of Christian hope; for the unfeigned faith and the penitent obedience of the Christian, had been known to Charlie Hubbard from childhood; nor had they ever been forgotten by the young man.
Soon after sun-rise, friends and neighbours began to collect; they came from miles around, all cla.s.ses and all ages--for the family was much respected, and their sudden bereavement had excited general compa.s.sion. The little door-yard and the humble parlour were filled, with those who justly claimed the name of friends; the highway and an adjoining field were crowded with neighbours.
After a solemn prayer within the house, those who had loved the dead fixed their eyes for the last time on his features; the coffin was closed from the light, the body was carried for the last time over the threshold, it was placed on a carriage, and the living crowd moved away, following the dead, with the slow, heavy movement of sorrow. The mother, the sisters, and the nearest female friends remained in privacy together at the house of mourning. As the funeral train moved along the highway towards Longbridge, it gradually increased in length; the different dwellings before which it pa.s.sed had their windows closed, as a simple token of sympathy, and on approaching the village, one bell after another was heard, tolling sadly. The hea.r.s.e paused for a moment before the house of Mr. Joseph Hubbard; those who had come thus far in carriages alighted, and joined by others collected in the village, they moved from there on foot. Several brother artists from New York, and other a.s.sociates of the young man's, bore the cloth which covered his coffin; and immediately after the nearest relatives, the elder brothers, and the uncles, came Hazlehurst and de Vaux, with the whole party of the Petrel, and the crew of the little schooner: and sincerely did they mourn their young friend; it is seldom indeed that the simple feeling of grief and compa.s.sion pervades a whole funeral train so generally as that of the young artist. But our poor Charlie had been much loved by all who knew him; he was carried to the grave among old friends of his family, in his native village--and there were many there capable of admiring his genius and respecting his character. As the procession entered the enclosure it pa.s.sed before a new-made grave, that of the negro sailor, who had been decently interred by the directions of de Vaux, on the preceding evening, the party of the Petrel having also attended his funeral. On reaching the final resting-place of the young artist, among the tombs of his family, by the side of his father the minister, an impressive prayer and a short but touching address were made; the coffin was lowered, the earth thrown on it, and the grave closed over Charlie Hubbard: the story of his life was told.