stories by modern american authors-第72节

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slightest　personal　dislike　to　me；　but　after　a　vigorous　cannonading

from　her　own　garrison　（in　which；　I　am　proud　to　say；　I　did　not　in

any　way　join）；　she　hoisted　the　white　flag　and　surrendered。



I　was　very　happy。　　I　had　no　fear　about　being　able　to　gain　Elsie's

heart。　　I　thinkindeed　I　knowthat　she　had　liked　me　all　along；

and　that　her　refusals　were　dictated　by　other　feelings　than　those　of

a　personal　nature。　　I　only　guessed　as　much　then。　　It　was　some　time

before　I　knew　all。



As　the　day　approached　for　our　wedding　Elsie　did　not　appear　at　all

stricken　with　woe。　　The　village　gossips　had　not　the　smallest

opportunity　for　establishing　a　romance；　with　a　compulsory　bride　for

the　heroine。　　Yet　to　me　it　seemed　as　if　there　was　something　strange

about　her。　　A　vague　terror　appeared　to　beset　her。　　Even　in　her　most

loving　moments；　when　resting　in　my　arms；　she　would　shrink　away　from

me；　and　shudder　as　if　some　cold　wind　had　suddenly　struck　upon　her。

That　it　was　caused　by　no　aversion　to　me　was　evident；　for　she　would

the　moment　after；　as　if　to　make　amends；　give　me　one　of　those

voluntary　kisses　that　are　sweeter　than　all　others。



Once　only　did　she　show　any　emotion。　　When　the　solemn　question　was

put　to　her；　the　answer　to　which　was　to　decide　her　destiny；　I　felt

her　handwhich　was　in　minetremble。　　As　she　gasped　out　a

convulsive　〃Yes；〃　she　gave　one　brief；　imploring　glance　at　the

gallery　on　the　right。　　I　placed　the　ring　upon　her　finger；　and

looked　in　the　direction　in　which　she　gazed。　　Hammond　Brake's　dark

countenance　was　visible　looking　over　the　railings；　and　his　eyes

were　bent　sternly　on　Elsie。　　I　turned　quickly　round　to　my　bride；

but　her　brief　emotion；　of　whatever　nature；　had　vanished。　　She　was

looking　at　me　anxiously；　and　smilingsomewhat　sadlythrough　her

maiden's　tears。



The　months　went　by　quickly；　and　we　were　very　happy。　　I　learned　that

Elsie　really　loved　me；　and　of　my　love　for　her　she　had　proof　long

ago。　　I　will　not　say　that　there　was　no　cloud　upon　our　little

horizon。　　There　was　one；　but　it　was　so　small；　and　appeared　so

seldom；　that　I　scarcely　feared　it。　　The　old　vague　terror　seemed

still　to　attack　my　wife。　　If　I　did　not　know　her　to　be　pure　as

heaven's　snow；　I　would　have　said　it　was　a　REMORSE。　　At　times　she

scarcely　appeared　to　hear　what　I　said；　so　deep　would　be　her

reverie。　　Nor　did　those　moods　seem　pleasant　ones。　　When　rapt　in

such；　her　sweet　features　would　contract；　as　if　in　a　hopeless　effort

to　solve　some　mysterious　problem。　　A　sad　pain；　as　it　were；　quivered

in　her　white；　drooped　eyelids。　　One　thing　I　particularly　remarked：

SHE　SPENT　HOURS　AT　A　TIME　GAZING　AT　THE　WEST。　　There　was　a　small

room　in　our　house　whose　windows；　every　evening；　flamed　with　the　red

light　of　the　setting　sun。　　Here　Elsie　would　sit　and　gaze　westward；

so　motionless　and　entranced　that　it　seemed　as　if　her　soul　was　going

down　with　the　day。　　Her　conduct　to　me　was　curiously　varied。　　She

apparently　loved　me　very　much；　yet　there　were　times　when　she

absolutely　avoided　me。　　I　have　seen　her　strolling　through　the

fields；　and　left　the　house　with　the　intention　of　joining　her；　but

the　moment　she　caught　sight　of　me　approaching　she　has　fled　into　the

neighboring　copse；　with　so　evident　a　wish　to　avoid　me　that　it　would

have　been　absolutely　cruel　to　follow。



Once　or　twice　the　old　jealousy　of　Hammond　Brake　crossed　my　mind；

but　I　was　obliged　to　dismiss　it　as　a　frivolous　suspicion。　　Nothing

in　my　wife's　conduct　justified　any　such　theory。　　Brake　visited　us

once　or　twice　a　weekin　fact；　when　I　returned　from　my　business　in

the　village；　I　used　to　find　him　seated　in　the　parlor　with　Elsie；

reading　some　favorite　author；　or　conversing　on　some　novel　literary

topic；　but　there　was　no　disposition　to　avoid　my　scrutiny。　　Brake

seemed　to　come　as　a　matter　of　right；　and　the　perfect

unconsciousness　of　furnishing　any　grounds　for　suspicion　with　which

he　acted　was　a　sufficient　answer　to　my　mind　for　any　wild　doubts

that　my　heart　may　have　suggested。



Still　I　could　not　but　remark　that　Brake's　visits　were　in　some

manner　connected　with　Elsie's　melancholy。　　On　the　days　when　he　had

appeared　and　departed；　the　gloom　seemed　to　hang　more　thickly　than

ever　over　her　head。　　She　sat；　on　such　occasions；　all　the　evening　at

the　western　window；　silently　gazing　at　the　cleft　in　the　hills

through　which　the　sun　passed　to　his　repose。



At　last　I　made　up　my　mind　to　speak　to　her。　　It　seemed　to　me　to　be

my　duty；　if　she　had　a　sorrow；　to　partake　of　it。　　I　approached　her

on　the　matter　with　the　most　perfect　confidence　that　I　had　nothing

to　learn　beyond　the　existence　of　some　girlish　grief；　which　a

confession　and　a　few　loving　kisses　would　exorcise　forever。



〃Elsie；〃　I　said　to　her　one　night；　as　she　sat；　according　to　her

custom；　gazing　westward；　like　those　maidens　of　the　old　ballads　of

chivalry　watching　for　the　knights　that　never　came〃Elsie；　what　is

the　matter　with　you；　darling？　　I　have　noticed　a　strange　melancholy

in　you　for　some　time　past。　　Tell　me　all　about　it。〃



She　turned　quickly　round　and　gazed　at　me　with　eyes　wide　open　and

face　filled　with　a　sudden　fear。　　〃Why　do　you　ask　me　that；　Mark？〃

she　answered。　　〃I　have　nothing　to　tell。〃



From　the　strange；　startled　manner　in　which　this　reply　was　given；　I

felt　convinced　that　she　had　something　to　tell；　and　instantly　formed

a　determination　to　discover　what　it　was。　　A　pang　shot　through　my

heart　as　I　thought　that　the　woman　whom　I　held　dearer　than　anything

on　earth　hesitated　to　trust　me　with　a　petty　secret。



I　believed　I　understood。　　I　was　tolerably　rich。　　I　knew　it　could

not　be　any　secret　over　milliners'　bills　or　women's　usual　money

troubles。　　God　help　me！　　I　felt　sad　enough　at　the　moment；　though　I

kissed　her　back　and　ceased　to　question　her。　　I　felt　sad；　because　my

instinct　told　me　that　she　deceived　me；　and　it　is　very　hard　to　be

deceived；　even　in　trifles；　by　those　we　love。　　I　left　her　sitting　at

her　favorite　window；　and　walked　out　into　the　fields。　　I　wanted　to

think。



I　remained　out　until　I　saw　lights　in　the　parlor　shining　through　the

dusky　evening；　then　I　returned　slowly。　　As　I　passed　the　windows

which　were　near　the　ground；　our　house　being　cottage…builtI　looked

in。　　Hammond　Brake　was　sitting　with　my　wife。　　She　was　sitting　in　a

rocking　chair　opposite　to　him；　holding　a　small　volume　open　on　her

lap。　　Brake　was　talking　to　her　very　earnestly；　and　she　was

listening　to　him　with　an　expression　I　had　never　before　seen　on　her

countenance。　　Awe；　fear；　and　admiration　were　all　blent　together　in

those　dilating　eyes。　　She　seemed　absorbed；　body　and　soul；　in　what

this　man　said。　　I　shuddered　at　the　sight。　　A　vague　terror　seized

upon　me；　I　hastened　into　the　house。　　As　I　entered　the　room　rather

suddenly；　my　wife　started　and　hastily　concealed　the　little　volume

that　lay　on　her　lap　in　one　of　her　wide　pockets。　　As　she　did　so；　a

loose　leaf　escaped　from　the　volume　and　slowly　fluttered　to　the

floor　unobserved　by　either　her　or　her　companion。　　But　I　had　my　eye

upon　it。　　I　felt　that　it　was　a　clew。



〃What　new　novel　or　philosophical　wonder　have　you　both　been　poring

over？〃　I　asked　quite　gayly；　stealthily　watching　at　the　same　time

the　telltale　embarrassment　under　which　Elsie　was　laboring。



Brake；　who　was　not　in　the　least　discomposed；　replied。　　〃That；〃　said

he；　〃is　a　secret　which　must　be　kept　from　you。　　It　is　an　advance

copy；　and　is　not　to　be　shown　to　anyone　except　your　wife。〃



〃Ha！〃　cried　I；　〃I　know　what　it　is。　　It　is　your　volume　of　poems　that

Ticknor　is　publishing。　　Well；　I　can　wait　until　it　is　regularly　for

sale。〃



I　knew　that　Brake　had　a　volume　in　the　hands　of　the　publishing　house

I　mentioned；　with　a　vague　promise　of　publication　some　time　in　the

present　century。　　Hammond　smiled　significantly；　but　did　not　reply。

He　evidently　wished　to　cultivate　this　supposed　impression　of　mine。

Elsie　looked　relieved；　and　heaved　a　deep　sigh。　　I　felt　more　than

ever　convinced　that　a　secret　was　beneath　all　this。　　So　I　drew　my

chair　over　the　fallen　leaf　that　lay　unnoticed　on　the　carpet；　and

talked　and　laughed　with　Hammond　Brake　gayly；　as　if　nothing　was　on

my　mind；　while　all　the　time　a　great　load　of　suspicion　lay　heavily

at　my　heart。



At　length　Hammond　Brake　rose　to　go。　　I　wished　him　good　night；　but

did　not　offer　to　accompany　him　to　the　door。　　My　wife　supplied　this

omitted　courtesy；　as　I　had　expected。　　The　moment　I　was　alone　I

picked　up　the　book　leaf　from　the　floor。　　It　was　NOT　the　leaf　of　a

volume　of　poems。　　Beyond　that；　however；　I　learned　nothing。　　It

contained　a　string　of　paragraphs　printed　in　the　biblical　fashion；

and　the　language　was　biblical　in　style。　　It　seemed　to　be　a　portion

of　some　religious　book。　　Was　it　possible　that　my　wife　was　being

converted　to　the　Romish　faith？　　Yes；　that　was　it。　　Brake　was　a

Jesuit　in　disguiseI　had　heard　of　such　thingsand　had　stolen　into

the　bosom　of　my　family　to　plant　there　his　destructive　errors。

There　could　be　no　longer　any　doubt　of　it。　　This　was　some　portion　of

a　Romish　booksome