The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, April 1844

The lady did look at him; and did observe all the peculiarities to which he called her attention; and did listen to his loud ringing laugh; and then, not knowing what to make of him, drew away.

‘Aha! widow, you’re frightened at finding yourself alone with such a gay fellow!’ said he, laughing still more merrily. ‘Well, well, don’t be alarmed, for I’m not in the least dangerous; and to tell the truth, I am so overjoyed to-day that I may be indulged in a little foolery. But I’ll keep you no longer in suspense. You recollect little Annie, the little child who fled to my house for protection?’

‘Yes; well?’

‘And you remember too, how often I told you that that poor starved, cast-off little thing looked to me like one born for a better destiny, and like one who had seen brighter times; and how often you ridiculed me, when I spoke of the faint recollections which still flitted through her mind of sunnier hours; and how you said that they were merely dreams, and that I was almost as great a child as she was, to attach any weight to them; though you admitted—I’ll give you credit for that—you did admit that she was a beautiful, good little thing, and worthy to belong to the best in the land. And when I said that Providence never would have sent such a frail being as that into the world as a beggar’s brat, you told me, on the contrary, that He might have cast the lot of that child, frail, feeble, sickly as she was, amid the very outcasts of the earth for wise purposes, which we never could fathom; and that I had no right to reason in that way on the subject, or to comment on His doings. And there, widow,’ added he solemnly, ‘you were right, and I was very wrong. But I was correct in my surmises as to the child. She was born for a brighter destiny, even than my humble roof; although,’ added he, his voice somewhat choked, ‘she’ll never be where they’ll love her more. But it’s all right, and she must go; for her parents are discovered. They are of the best in the land; she is not a beggar’s brat. Her brother too, is found; a miserably, thin hollow-eyed fellow; but we’ll put flesh on him. This is not all,’ added he, ‘every body seems in luck to-day. Old Jacob Rhoneland has escaped scathless out of Rust’s clutches. Rust himself is on his way to the devil post-haste, and there is nothing left to be done but to heal the breach between Jacob and Ned. This matter settled, I hope to see Kate’s cheeks once more plump and round and rosy. I hope not only to see them, but to kiss them too. I’m not too old to fancy such things, I can tell you; and now, widow, hadn’t I a right to be a little boisterous? Ah! I see that you think me excusable; but bring me a pipe, and I’ll give you all the particulars over that. I’m a little thirsty, too; for I’ve already told a long story, and have yet a longer one to tell.’

The pipe was produced; the small three-legged table was placed at his side, to support his elbow; and Harson, having carefully lighted his pipe, suffered the smoke to eddy about his nose, while he arranged his ideas, and cleared his throat; and then he entered into a full and faithful detail of the proceedings which had been taken to unmask the villany of Rust; and the various steps and precautions which had finally led to success.

It was a pleasant sight to see two such persons as Harson and his crony, both in the autumn of life, but with the charities of the heart yet green and unwithered, talking and gossipping together, with eyes bright and beaming with mutual admiration; each fully aware of the foibles of the other, but carefully indulgent to them; for each knew that the heart of the other was an odd casket, encasing a gem of the noblest kind, from which radiated love, charity, and benevolence to man. Oh! Harry, Harry! how joyously and yet mildly you looked into that widow’s dark liquid eyes; and how gently and confidingly she returned that look! What a risk you both ran! Had you and she been but a few years younger, had either of you cherished a whit less tenderly the memory of those who had once been all in all to you, and whose forms were slumbering under the green sod, that widow might have been a wife, and Harry Harson no longer a stout, sturdy old bachelor; for it cannot be denied, that he did become a little animated as he proceeded; and that he did take the widow’s hand in his, and did squeeze it, perhaps with a little too much freedom, and did look into her eyes, as if he loved her with his whole soul and body into the bargain; nor can it be denied that she was pleased with these tokens of esteem, or love, or friendship, or whatever else she might have thought them; for she did not withdraw her hand, and she smiled when he smiled; and there certainly was a strong sympathy apparent in their looks; and even when in the fervor of his feelings he held his pipe between his teeth to free the hand which held it, and deliberately squeezed both of her hands in his, still she did not appear embarrassed, nor vexed; and when he had released it, quietly went on with her sewing, as composedly as if what he had just done was quite usual, and a matter of course.

‘And now, Mrs. Chowles,’ said Harson, as he concluded his narrative; ‘upon the strength of our success we are to have a jollification to-morrow at my house; and we’ll have Dick Holmes there, and Kate, and Ned Somers, and Kate’s father. He must make up with Ned then, if not before. He knows he was wrong, and he must give up.’

‘But will he?’ inquired the widow, anxiously. ‘You know Jacob’s a wrong-headed old man, in some things. Will he?’

‘Wont he?’ ejaculated Harson, with a peculiar wink and nod of satisfaction, as if he and himself were on excellent terms, and understood what they were about perfectly well. ‘I tell you what it is,’ added he, in a more grave tone; ‘Jacob has had his own way, or rather Michael Rust’s way, in this matter, too long. He shall have it no longer. He shall not break his child’s heart. I will not permit it.’ He took his pipe from his mouth, and slapped his knee emphatically. ‘Have you observed no change in the girl, since then? If you have not, I have. She is still the same devoted, affectionate child to that warped old man that she always was; but look at her face and form, and listen to her voice. She was once the gayest, merriest little creature that ever lived. It threw sunshine into one’s heart only to look at her; and when she spoke, did you ever hear a bird whose voice was half so joyous? Poor thing! when she laughs now, it makes my heart ache. It’s like the smile of one dying, when he is trying to whisper hope to those who are weeping over his death-bed. God bless her! and how should it be otherwise? But no matter; the worst is past. And now,’ said he, ‘I must be gone. I came here to tell you the story, and to ask you to dine with us; and between you and me, perhaps you had better come early in the day, and keep an eye over Martha; for the idea of a dinner party has quite frightened her; and there are so many little things to be done, which I know nothing about, and which you understand, and without which we should have every thing helter-skelter, that you must come, or I’ll never forgive you.’ Harry made this last menace with so fierce an air, and his mouth pursed up in so ferocious a manner, although his eyes were dancing with fun, that the lady consented at once.

‘It’s well for you that you did,’ said Harson, rising and putting on his hat; ‘if you hadn’t, I don’t know what I should have done; but it would have been something dreadful. I’m a terrible fellow when fairly roused.’ Then shaking the lady’s hand, as if he intended to dislocate her shoulders, he put his cane under his arm and went out.

‘Ha! ha! old Jacob! you and I must have a tussle. Ha! ha!’ exclaimed he, still carrying his cane under his arm, and his hands under his coat tails, ‘you must hear a little of what I think. A few words of wholesome advice will do you no harm, and will rub off the rust that old age has fastened upon you.’

With this hostile resolution upon his tongue, the old man made the best of his way to Rhoneland’s house. Jacob was there, dozing in his chair, with his white locks hanging loosely over his shoulders; and Kate was sitting at his side engaged in sewing. She was paler than usual; and there was a nervous restlessness in her manner, which did not escape the quick glance of Harson. He thought too that she seemed somewhat thinner than she was wont to be. It might be mere suspicion, but still he thought so.

‘It’s too bad,’ muttered he; ‘but I’ll set matters right, or my name’s not Harry Harson.’

There was something in the hearty greeting of the old fellow, as he took her hands in his and called her his bright-eyed girl, so full of happiness that it was impossible not to catch the same feeling as he spoke; and even Jacob, as he felt the cordial grasp of his hand, assured himself, and assumed something like a cheerful smile.

‘Well, Kate,’ said Harson, drawing a chair between her and her father; ‘I’ve news for you; and for you too, my old fellow,’ said he, turning to Rhoneland; ‘we’ve used Rust up.’

Jacob stared at him, smiled faintly and half doubtfully, and then sank back in his chair without speaking.

‘Do you hear me?’ exclaimed Harson, seizing him by the collar and shaking him; ‘do you hear me? Why don’t you jump up and hurrah at the downfall of such a scoundrel? Ha! ha! We’ve been on his track for months; but we’ve run him down at last; and then he made a virtue of necessity, and told all—all about the children, and about you, and about Ned; all lies, all lies—every word of them: Ned he swore was as honest a fellow as ever lived, or something to that effect. You, he admitted, had committed no forgery; not a word of truth in it; but all invented, to force you to consent to his marriage with my own little sweet-heart, Kate. God bless me! how near I was to losing her! Perhaps you don’t know that I intend marrying her myself? Why don’t you get up now, and hurrah? Confound it, I never saw such people in all my life. Halloh! by Jove! Kate, quick! some water! I swear, the old fellow has fainted!’

As he spoke, Rhoneland’s head fell back, and the color forsook his cheeks. Harson caught him, while Kate ran for water and brandy, a small quantity of which being poured into his mouth, soon brought him to himself. Having waited until he was sufficiently composed to listen, Harson commenced from the beginning of his story, and detailed to both of his listeners much that they already knew, and not a little which they had never dreamed of; the causes which had first led to the enmity between Grosket and Rust, and then, step by step, what they had done to detect and bring to light his villany. ‘Rust manœuvred well and skilfully,’ said he, ‘for he was a bold, reckless man, who stuck at nothing, and fought to the last. It is doubtful whether he would not have got the better of us in the end, had not a sudden misfortune fallen upon him, which prostrated his energies and broke his hard heart. After that, he was no longer the same man; but confessed every thing, and among other things, that it had been his intention to become the husband of Kate, and finding that you were opposed to it, he tried the effect of a display of wealth upon you. This failed. Then he resolved to see what fear could do; and threatened to have you indicted for forgery; and admitting that you were innocent, he yet showed so clearly how he could support his charge, and succeed in blasting your character, that you shrunk from collision with him: still you would not consent to sacrifice your child, although you dared not give him such an answer as would shut out all hope. There was another obstacle in his way. This was a certain young fellow, who as well as Rust, had an eye on Kate, and whom perhaps Kate did not think the worst man in the world. Rust determined to be rid of him; so he basely slandered him to you; and you, not suspecting Rust’s veracity, as the knowledge which you already had of his character should have induced you to do, rashly forbade his rival the house; and I am sorry to say, added harsh words to the wrong which you were already committing. I need not tell you who that young man was. He came to me shortly afterward and told me what had occurred. He’s a noble fellow, for not one hard word or epithet did he breathe against you. He said he was aware that for a long time back some person had been endeavoring to poison your mind against him. He had observed it in the gradual change of your manner, and in your avoiding his society. He had hoped, he said, that in time, when you found out that his character was fair and irreproachable, that these hard feelings would wear off, and you could again meet as heretofore. But this was not to be. Instead of diminishing, your hostility to him increased, until one day when he was in your own house, you used language to him which left him no alternative but to quit it forever. The charges which you made against him were very grave, Jacob, and very vile; and when you made them you had no right to withhold the name of the person on whose authority you accused him; but you did; and although Ned might and did suspect one person, Michael Rust, to be the kind friend to whom he owed your ill will, yet he had no proof of it that would justify him in calling him to account. Ned had a hard task before him; for the charge you made against him was that of harboring evil thoughts and of cherishing unfair designs against your child. It was a serious charge, and one that he could not refute; for a man’s thoughts are not susceptible of proof; all that he can do in justification, is to point to his past life and say: ‘Judge by that;’ and unless Ned could impeach the character of his traducer, of whom he was then ignorant, but who now stands revealed in the person of Michael Rust, as great a scoundrel as ever lived, he had no alternative but to submit, and to hope that time would exculpate him. Now Jacob, even supposing Rust had not confessed that the tales which he had told you respecting Ned were calumnies, is there any thing in Ned’s past life to justify the suspicion you have cherished against him? Answer candidly, and you will answer ‘No.’ Rust’s motive was clear enough; he feared Somers, and wished to drive from you one who might be a friend in time of need, and who might one day stand as a shield between you and his dark purposes. Come, Jacob, Rust has confessed all; what he did, what his motives were; and now, tell me, whether you cannot say, from the bottom of your heart, ‘Ned Somers, I have wronged you?’’

He paused, and looked earnestly at Rhoneland, while every feature glowed with the fervor of his feelings. ‘Come, Jacob, what do you say?’

There was one other person too who leaned forward to catch the reply; but Rhoneland answered:

‘She’s my only child, and she’s very dear to me. It was a cruel suspicion, and perhaps I did act hastily. I will not say that I did not, for I was greatly excited, and said many things that I have since forgotten. But it was better that he should go. Wasn’t it, Kate?’

He turned to his daughter, took her hand, and repeated his question. ‘Wasn’t it better that he should keep away Kate?’

Kate’s voice trembled as she asked: ‘What harm did he do, father, in coming here? If his character is fair, why should he not come?’

Her father eyed her with an uneasy look. In truth, he feared Ned’s presence; for he knew that he loved Kate, and that she reciprocated the feeling; and with the selfishness which old age sometimes brings with it, he was unwilling that she should care for another than himself, or that another should have a claim upon her. At last, he replied rather sharply: ‘The reason why he should not come, is because I don’t want him.’

Kate drew back, and said not another word; but Harson saw from her compressed lip that the reply had cut deeply; and catching her eye, he made a sign to her to leave them. Kate took the hint, and went out; and Harson, after looking Rhoneland steadily in the face for some time, said, ‘Jacob, you have given your reason why Ned Somers should not come here. It’s a very poor one, and not such as I expected. Now I’ll give you mine why he should: Kate loves him, and he loves her.’

Jacob knit his brows, but made no reply.

‘And let me tell you, too, that unless you do consent, your child will die. I’m in earnest. There are some who fall in love, as they call it, a hundred times; bestowing their affections, such as they are, sometimes on one, sometimes on another; until at last perhaps the owner of a handsome face offers his hand and gets in return the tattered thing they call their heart. God help me! this is called love. But thank God, for the credit of human nature, there are others who love as they should—purely, nobly, with their whole soul. These love once, and only once; and wo to the man who unwisely, or for his own selfish ends, crosses them! The sin of a broken heart too often lies at his door. Jacob, you’re an old man; but you are not too old to have forgotten the wife who once was yours. You loved her well, my dear old fellow, I know it,’ said he, taking his hand. ‘She deserved it too. Kate is very like her. What would have been your feelings had any one stepped in between you and her?’

Rhoneland grew very pale, and the tears came in his eyes.

‘Come, come, Jacob, I’ll not press the matter now; but you must reflect on what I’ve said; and you must not forget how much Kate has at stake. Ned’s a glorious fellow, and will make your house very cheery.’

‘Well, I’ll think of it,’ replied Rhoneland, after a short pause.

‘Do; that’s a good fellow. I’ll consider it a personal favor; and I do think you owe me something for the pains I’ve taken in aiding to rid you of that rascal, Rust.’

‘I do indeed owe you much,’ replied Rhoneland, earnestly, ‘and I am sincerely grateful.’

‘Well, well, we wont speak of that; only reflect on what I have just said; and by the way,’ added he, rising to go, ‘you must oblige me in another matter. Two or three friends are to dine with me to-morrow; you and Kate must be of the party.’

‘We will,’ was the reply.

‘Good! Now go up stairs and comfort Kate.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

A bright glowing day was the following one, the day of the dinner party; and right gladly did the golden sun beam out from the deep fathomless sky, as if from his lofty look-out he were aware of what was going on in this world below, and rejoiced in the failure of the evil machinations which had been so long disturbing the tranquillity of the worthy individuals who have figured in this history. And fortunate it was that neither clouds nor rain obscured his face, for had the latter been added to the cares which the approaching dinner-party had already accumulated upon the culinary department of Harson’s household, the house-keeper in the tall cap with stiff ribbons would have gone stark-mad. Miserable woman! how she worked and fumed, and panted and tugged, and kneaded and rolled, and stuffed and seasoned, and skewered and basted, and beat, on that day! From soup to dessert and from dessert to soup, over and over again, she toiled; fish, flesh, fowl, vegetables, gravies, were all mingled in her head helter-skelter. She had dreamed of nothing else during the whole of the previous night, excepting a short interlude in the aforesaid dream, when she was night-mared by a fat pig, bestrode by a half-starved boy, who was all eyes. And now, as the day waned and the hour of the dinner approached, her ferment increased, until, to use a metaphor, she had worked herself up into a mental lather. Her voice was in every quarter, and so was her quick, hurried step. She was in the entry, up stairs, in the pantry, in the kitchen and in the cellar; at the street-door giving orders to the grocer’s dirty boy to bring the cinnamon and allspice, and not to forget the sugar and butter, and to be sure to recollect the anchovies and pickles. The next moment she was scolding the butcher, because he had been late with the chops and cutlets; and every five minutes she thrust her head into the room to look at the clock, lest Time should steal a march upon her. Eleven, twelve, one, two o’clock. The tumult increased. Mrs. Chowles, punctual to her promise, made her appearance; forthwith dived into the kitchen, and did not emerge until dinner-time. The only person utterly unmoved was Harson, who had attended to his part of the business by looking after the wine, and who now sat with his feet to the fire, resolved to trouble his head about nothing, and apparently more asleep than awake. At times, however, he rose and went to one corner of the room, where a small boy who seemed to be worn down by suffering, lay coiled up and sound asleep on a chair-cushion. The old man bent over him, gently parted the hair from his forehead, and then rising up, somewhat red in the face from the exertion, rubbed his hands one over the other by way of indicating that all was as it should be; stole back to his seat on tiptoe, lest he should awaken him, and forthwith relapsed into his former state of dreamy abstraction. Nothing could arouse him; not even the house-keeper when she dashed into the room with a face at roasting heat, and demanded the key of the wine-cellar. It was handed to her mechanically, and mechanically pocketed when she brought it back.

But the hour of dinner drew near; and a smell began to pervade the house which aroused Harson at last. He sat up in his chair and smacked his lips; and Spite, who for an undue curiosity as to the contents of a small pasty, exhibited early in the day, had been escorted into the room by the house-keeper aided by a broomstick, sat under the same chair licking his lips and slavering profusely.

Again the red face of the house-keeper was projected in the room, and as instantly withdrawn. It wanted half an hour to the time. In and out again; it wanted twenty-five minutes. In and out again; twenty minutes. The matter was growing serious, and there was something frantic in her looks. But this time Harson caught her, and told her that it was time to put an end to that performance, as he expected his friends every minute; that she must guess as to the time; and that he would ring when she was to serve the dinner.

A rap at the door! and before it could be answered, a heavy step crossed the ante-chamber.

‘There’s Frank,’ said Harson, rising and facing the door; and in came the doctor. But he was not alone; for close behind him followed Ned Somers, dressed in his best. Harry shook hands with them; but before he had time to do more than that, Jacob Rhoneland entered with Kate on his arm, looking very rosy from her walk.

What could it be that caused Ned’s heart to flounce and dance about as wildly as a caged bird; and his cheek to grow at first pale, and then burning hot; and his lips to quiver, and his voice to tremble so that he could scarcely speak; and for a moment was unable even to tell Kate that he was glad to see her? Whatever the complaint was, it was infectious; for Kate’s heart certainly did beat very rapidly; and her color went and came, until it settled into a deep burning blush, as she turned and saw Ned there, looking at her as if he had eyes for nothing else.

‘Good morning Mr. Somers,’ said she, at last, in a tone that was neither firm nor clear.

‘Call me Ned, Kate,’ said he in a low voice; ‘don’t say Mr. Somers. Wont you shake hands with me? There can be no harm in that.’ He extended his hand; she placed hers in it, and at the same time whispered in his ear, (for Harry, seeing that there was some by-play going on, kept Jacob busy,) ‘Speak to father as if nothing had happened. I think he’s inclined to make up. Do, Ned.’

Turning from him, she commenced talking to the Doctor, while Somers, after a moment’s hesitation, went up to the old man and offered his hand.

Rhoneland hesitated, for he experienced the reluctance which old age always evinces to succumb to those younger in years; and it was not very pleasant to admit that his conduct toward Ned had been wrong. But there was something in the expression of Ned’s face, and even in the way in which he offered his hand, which showed that the past was forgiven; and beside that, what had already happened could not be mended by holding out; so Jacob grasped his hand, and said frankly:

‘Ned, my young friend, I wronged thee sadly. I hope you will pardon it.’

‘That’s right, Jacob! Spoken like a whole-hearted old fellow, as you are!’ exclaimed Harson, patting him on the shoulder. ‘To be sure he will forgive you, and thank you for the chance. If he doesn’t he’s not what I take him to be. Don’t you pardon him?’ demanded he, turning to Somers, and at the same time casting a quizzical look in the direction of Kate.

Ned laughed; said something about pardon being unnecessary, where no offence had been taken; and then commenced talking about indifferent matters.

Presently Holmes came in; and after him Grosket; and one or two cronies of Harson’s; and then the little girl; so that the room became quite full. The boy too, aroused by the noise of talking, awoke; stared wildly around him, and though a boy of genteel lineage, evinced a great distaste to mingling in society; and fought manfully to retain his position in the corner, when Harson attempted to lead him out. His sister endeavored, in an undertone, to impress upon him the propriety of adapting his manners to the change in his situation; but it must be confessed that her success was but indifferent; and it is a matter of some doubt whether he would ever have emerged, had not a tall, awkward boy, (a second cousin of the housekeeper, and apprenticed to a tailor,) who had been borrowed to officiate as waiter on this eventful occasion, thrust his head in the door and remarked, ‘Cousin Martha says you may come to dinner just as quick as you like,’ and forthwith disappeared, slamming the door after him, and clattering across the entry as if shod with paving-stones.