The Monctons: A Novel, Volume I

S >> Susanna Moodie >> The Monctons: A Novel, Volume I

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"A stranger might have thought her capricious, but her love of variety
arose more from the exuberance of her fancy than from any love of
change. She was a fair and happy child, the idol of her fond brother's
heart, till one baneful passion marred what God and nature made so
beautiful.

"Margaret Moncton, outwardly, was less gifted than Alice Mornington,
but she far surpassed her foster-sister in mental endowments. Her
stature was small, almost diminutive. Her features neither regular nor
handsome except the dark eyes, the beauty of which I think I never saw
surpassed.

"Her complexion was pure but very pale, and her lofty, thoughtful brow
wore a serious expression from infancy. In our wildest revels on the
green sward, you seldom heard Margaret laugh; but when pleased, she had
a most bewitching smile, which lighted up her calm countenance till
every feature beamed with an inexpressible grace. Her face was the
mirror of purity and truth, and you felt, whilst looking upon it, that
it was impossible for Margaret to deceive.

"How could I be unhappy, while I had these two beautiful children for
my daily companions, and the most charming rural scenery at my
immediate command?

"Sir Alexander came every day to the Lodge to see his child, and always
lavished upon me the most flattering marks of his favour. His manner to
my mother was, at first, shy and reserved. This wore off by degrees,
and before two years had expired, from the death of his wife, his
visits became so constant, and his attentions so marked, that Dinah
once more began to entertain hopes that her ambitious schemes for her
daughter might yet be realized. These hopes were only frustrated by the
sudden death of the object for whom they were cherished. My mother, for
some weeks, had complained of an acute pain in her left side, just
under her breast, and the medicines she procured from the doctor
afforded her no relief. She grew nervous and apprehensive of the
consequences, but as her personal appearance was not at all injured by
her complaint, Dinah ridiculed her fears.

"'You may laugh as you please, mother,' said she, the very day before
she died, 'but I feel this pain will be the death of me--and I so unfit
to die,' she added, with a deep sigh.

"'Nonsense!' returned Dinah, 'you will wear your wedding clothes a
second time, before we put on your shroud.'

"My mother only answered with another deep-drawn sigh. She passed a
sleepless night--the doctor was sent for in the morning, gave her a
composing draught, and told her to make her mind easy, for she had
nothing to fear.

"I always slept in the same bed with my mother. That night I had a bad
cold and could not sleep; but knowing that she was not well, I lay
quite still, fearing to disturb her. She slept well during the early
part of the night. The clock had just struck twelve when she rose up in
the bed, and called Dinah to come to her quickly. Her voice sounded
hollow and tremulous.

"'What ails you, Rachel?' grumbled the hard woman; 'disturbing a body
at this hour of the night.'

"'Be it night or morning,' said my mother, 'I am dying, and this hour
will be my last.'

"'Then in the name of God! send for the doctor.'

"'It is too late now. He can do me no good: I am going fast; but there
is something on my mind, mother, which I must tell you before I go. Sit
down beside me on the bed, whilst I have strength left to do it, and
swear to me mother, that you will not abuse the confidence I am about
to repose in you.'

"Dinah nodded assent.

"'That will not do. I must have your solemn word--your oath!'

"'What good will that do, Rachel? no oath can bind me--I believe in no
God, and fear no devil!'

"This confession was accompanied by a hideous, cackling laugh. Rachel
groaned aloud.

"'Oh, mother! there is a God--an avenging God! Could you feel what I
now feel, and see what I now see, like the devils, you would believe
and tremble. You will know it one day, and like me, find out that
repentance comes too late. I will, however, tell the plain truth, and
your diabolical policy, will, doubtless, suggest the use which may be
made of such an important secret.'

"There was a long pause, after which some sentences passed between
them, in such a low voice, that I could not distinctly hear them; at
last I heard my mother say,

"'You never saw these children, or you would not wonder that my heart
so clave to that fair babe. You thought that I accepted Robert
Moncton's bribe, and put the other child out of the way.'

"'And did you not?' cried the eager old woman, breathless with
curiosity.

"'I took the bribe. But the child died a natural death, and I was saved
the commission of a frightful crime, which you and your master were
constantly writing to me, to urge me to commit. Now, listen, mother.'

"What she said was in tones so low, that, though I strained every nerve
to listen, as I should have done, had it been a ghost story, or any
tale of horror, the beating of my own heart frustrated all my
endeavours.

"Rachel's communication appeared to astonish her mother. Her dark,
wrinkled brows contracted until not a particle of the eyes were
visible, and she sat for a long while in deep thought, rocking herself
to and fro on the bed, whilst the dying woman regarded her with
expanded eyes and raised hands, locked tightly together. At last she
spoke.

"'Dinah! make no ill use of my confidence, or there will come a day of
vengeance for both you and me. What shall we gain by being tools in the
hands of a wicked man like Robert Moncton. Why should we sell our souls
for naught, to do his dirty work.'

"'Not to serve him will I do aught to injure the child. No, no. Dinah
North is not such a fool. If I do it to gratify my own revenge, that's
another thing. I have this bad, bold Robert in my power. This secret
will be a fortune in itself--will extort from his mean, avaricious
soul, a portion of his ill-gotten wealth. Ha, my child! you did well
and wisely, and may die in peace, without the stain of blood upon your
soul.'

"Rachel shook her head despondingly.

"'There is no peace, saith my God, for the wicked. My soul consented to
the crime, and whilst the thought was uppermost in my heart, the bolt
of the Almighty smote me, and my resolution wavered; but, the guilt, at
this moment, appears to me the same. It is a dreadful thing to die
without hope. Where is Alice?'

"'Sleeping. Shall I bring her to you?'

"'Let her sleep. I feel sleepy, too. Smooth my pillow, mother. Give me
a little water. I feel easy now. Perhaps, I shall awake in the morning
better.'

"The pillows were arranged--the draught given; but the sleeper never
awoke again.

"Her mysterious communications, which only came by halves to my ears,
filled my mind with vague conjectures, and I cannot help thinking, to
this hour, that the young heir of Moncton came to an untimely death,
and she blamed herself so bitterly for not having me supply his place.

"Stern as my mother had been during her life, her death was a severe
blow to us all, especially to Alice and me; as it removed from our
humble home an object most dear to us both, the little lady of the
manor, to whom we had ever given the endearing name of sister.

"After Margaret left us, how dull did all our pastimes appear. Alice
and I wandered sadly and silently among our old haunts; the song of the
birds cheered us no longer; the flowers seemed less fair; the murmur of
the willow-crowned brook less musical; the presiding genius of the
place had vanished; we felt that we were alone.

"I had now reached my fourteenth year, and Sir Alexander, true to the
promise made to his wife, sent me to an excellent school in the city of
York. Here I made such good use of my time, that before three years had
elapsed I was second boy in the head class, and had won the respect of
the master and ushers. My munificent patron was greatly pleased with
the progress I had made, and hinted at sending me to college, if I
continued to deserve his good opinion.

"Ah, Geoffrey! those were halcyon days, when I returned to spend the
vacations at the Lodge, and found myself ever a welcome visitor at the
Hall. With a proud heart I recounted to Sir Alexander, all my boyish
triumphs at school, and the good baronet listened to my enthusiastic
details with the most intense interest, and fought all his juvenile
battles over again, with boyish ardour, to the infinite delight of our
admiring audience, Margaret and Alice. The latter spent most of her
time with Miss Moncton, who was so much attached to her foster-sister,
and shed so many tears at parting from her, that Sir Alexander yielded
to her earnest request for Alice to remain with her, and the young
heiress and the huntsman's blooming daughter were seldom apart. Miss
Moncton's governess, an amiable and highly accomplished woman, took as
much pains in teaching Alice as she did in superintending the education
of her high-born pupil. The beautiful girl acquired her tasks so
rapidly, and with such an intense desire for improvement, that Sir
Alexander declared, that she beat his Madge hollow.

"Dinah North exulted in the growing charms of her grand-daughter. If
the old woman regarded anything on earth with affection, it was the
tall, fair girl so unlike herself. And Alice, too--I have often
wondered how it were possible--Alice loved with the most ardent
affection, that forbidding-looking, odious creature.

"To me, since the death of my mother, she had been civil but
reserved--never addressing me without occasion required--and I neither
sought nor cared for her regard.

"It was on the return of one of those holidays, when I returned home
full of eager anticipations of happiness, of joyous days spent at the
Park in company with Margaret and Alice, that I first beheld that
artful villain, Robert Moncton.

"It was a lovely July evening. The York coach set me down at the Park
gates, and I entered the pretty cottage with my scanty luggage on my
back, and found the lawyer engaged in earnest conversation with my
grandmother.

"Struck with the appearance of the man, which at first sight is very
remarkable, I paused for some minutes on the threshold, unobserved by
the parties. Like you, Geoffrey, I shall never forget the impression
his countenance made upon me. The features so handsome, the colouring
so fine, the person that of a finished gentleman; and yet, all this
pleasing combination of form and face marred by that cold, cruel,
merciless eye. Its expression so dead, so joyless, sent a chill through
my whole frame, and I shrank from encountering its icy gaze, and was
about quietly to retire by a back door, when my attention was arrested
by the following brief conversation.

"'I should like to see the lad.'

"'We expect him home from school by the coach to-night.'

"'What age is he?'

"'Just sixteen.'

"'What does Sir Alexander mean to do for him?'

"'Send him to college, I believe. He is very fond of him.'

"'Humph!--and then to London to make a lawyer of him. Leave him to me,
Dinah, I will make a solicitor of him in earnest. I have taught many a
bold heart and reckless hand to solicit the charity of others.'

"'Devil doubt you!' rejoined the fiend with a hollow, cackling laugh.
'But you may find the boy one too many for you, with all your cunning.
He'll not start at shadows, nor stumble over straws. I have tamed many
a proud spirit in my day, but this boy defies my power. I fear and hate
him, but I cannot crush him. But hush!--here he is.'

"I bustled forward and flung my portmanteau heavily to the ground. 'How
are you, grandmother? How's Alice? All well, I hope?'

"'Do you see the gentleman, Philip?'

"'Gentleman! I beg his pardon. A fine evening, sir; but very hot and
dusty travelling by the coach. I have not tasted anything since
breakfast, grandmother; and I am tired and hungry.'

"'Yours is the hungry age,' said the lawyer, staring me full in the
face, as if he was taking a proof impression for legal purposes. His
cold, searching look brought the blood to my cheeks, and I returned the
impertinent scrutiny with a glance of defiance.

"He rose; nodded meaningly to Dinah, bowed slightly to me, and left the
cottage.

"The next minute Alice was in my arms.

"'Brother! dear, darling brother! welcome, welcome a thousand times.'

"Oh, what a contrast to the dark, joyless countenance of Dinah North,
was the cherub face of Alice--laughing in the irresistible glee of her
young heart. I forgot my long, tiresome journey, dust, heat, and
hunger, as I pulled her on my knee, and covered her rosy cheeks with
kisses.

"'What news since I left, Alice?'

"'Sad news, Philip. Dear Madge is in London on a visit to her aunt; and
there is a dull, cross boy staying at the Hall, with a very hard
name--Theophilus Moncton--Margaret's cousin. But he is nothing like
her, though he calls her his little wife. But Madge says that she will
never have him, though his father is very rich.'

"'I am sure _you will_ hate him, Philip, for he calls us beggar's
brats, and wonders that Sir Alexander suffers his daughter to play with
us. I told him that he was very rude; and that he had better not
affront you, for you would soon teach him better manners. But he only
sneered at me, and said, "My father's a _gentleman_. He never suffers
me to associate with people _beneath_ us. Your brother had better keep
out of my way, or I will order my groom to horsewhip him." I felt very
angry and began to cry, and Sir Alexander came in and reproved the boy,
and told me I had better return to grandmamma until Mr. Moncton and his
son had left the Hall.'

"While little Alice, ran on thus to me, I felt stung to the quick; and
all the pride of my nature warring within. For the first time in my
life, I became painfully conscious of the difference of rank which
existed between me and my benefactor; I was restless and unhappy, and
determined not to go near the Hall, until Sir Alexander bade me do so
himself.

"But days passed, and I saw nothing of the good Baronet, and Alice and
I were obliged to content ourselves by roaming through all the old
beloved haunts, and talking of Margaret. We were returning one evening
through the fine avenue of oaks, which led to the front entrance of the
demesne, when a pony rushed past us at full gallop. A boyish impulse,
tempted me to give a loud halloo, in order to set the beautiful animal
off at its wildest speed. In a few minutes we met a lad of my own age,
booted and spurred, with a whip in his hand, running in the same
direction the pony had taken. He was in a towering passion, and coming
up to us, he cried out, with a menacing air--

"'You impudent rascal! how dared you to shout in that way, to frighten
my horse, when you saw me endeavouring to catch him?'

"'I saw no such thing,' I replied, drily. 'I admired the pony, and
shouted to see how much faster he could run.'

"'You deserve a good thrashing,' quoth he. 'Go and catch the horse for
me, or I will complain to Sir Alexander of your conduct.'

"'Sir Alexander is not my master, neither are you. I shall do no such
thing.'

"'Do it instantly!' stamping with his foot.

"'Do it yourself. You look quite as fit for a groom as I do.'

"I tried to pass him, but he stepped into the centre of the path, and
hindered me. To avoid a collision was now impossible.

"'You insolent young blackguard!' he cried, 'do you know that you are
speaking to a gentleman?'

"'_Indeed!_' I said, with a provoking smile. 'I ought to thank you
for the information, for I never should have suspected the fact.'

"With a yell of rage, he struck me in the face with the butt end of his
whip. I sprang upon him with the strength of a tiger, and seizing his
puny form in my arms, I dashed him beneath my feet, and after bestowing
upon him sundry hearty kicks, rejoined the terrified Alice, and left
Mr. Theophilus Moncton, to gather up his fallen dignity, and make the
best of his way home to the Hall.

"This frolic cost me far more than I expected. The next morning, Sir
Alexander rode over to the Lodge, and severely reprimanded me for my
conduct; and ended his lecture, by affirming in positive terms, that if
I did not beg his young relative's pardon, he would withdraw his favour
from me for ever.

"This, I proudly refused to do--and the Baronet as proudly told me, 'To
see his face no more!'

"I looked sorrowfully up as he said this. The tears were in my eyes,
for I loved him very much--but my heart was too full to speak.

"He leant down from his horse, expecting my answer. I was silent: the
colour mounted to his cheeks; he waited a few minutes longer; I made no
sign, and he struck the spurs into his horse, and rode quickly away.

"'There goes my only friend!' I cried. 'Curse the mean wretch, who
robbed me of my friend! I only regret that I did not kill him!'

"Thus for one boyish act of indiscretion I was flung friendless upon
the world. Yet, Geoffrey, were the thing to do again, I feel that I
could not, and would not, act otherwise.

"Time has convinced me that Robert Moncton, acting with his usual
policy, had made Sir Alexander ashamed of his connection with us, and
he gladly availed himself of the first plausible excuse to cast me off.
Alice deeply lamented my disgrace; but the whole affair afforded mirth
to my grandmother, who seemed greatly to enjoy my unfortunate triumph
over the boy with the _hard name_."

CHAPTER XVII.

HARRISON FINDS A FRIEND IN NEED.

"During my residence at school in York, my master was often visited by
a wealthy merchant who bore the same name with myself. This man was an
old bachelor, very eccentric, but universally esteemed as one of the
most benevolent of men. He was present at one of the school
examinations in which I took many prizes, and asking my name he found
out that he was related to my father, and bestowed upon me many marks
of favour, such as presenting me with useful books, and often asking me
over to his house to dine, or spend the evening.

"Flattered by his attentions to me, I had lost no opportunity of
increasing our friendship, and I determined to apply to him in my
present distress.

"I was a perfect novice in the art of letter-writing, never having
penned an epistle in my life, and after making several attempts with
which I was perfectly disgusted, I determined to walk over to the city
and make my application in person to Mr. Mornington.

"Without communicating my intentions to Alice, I carefully tied up a
change of linen in a silk handkerchief, and with the mighty sum of five
shillings in my pocket, commenced my pedestrian journey of thirty odd
miles.

"I started in the morning by day-break, and without meeting with any
particular adventures on the road, I arrived at six o'clock in the
evening, foot-sore and weary at the rich man's door. When there, my
heart, which had been as stout as a lion's on the road, failed me, and
I sat down upon the broad stone steps that led up to the house, sorely
depressed and uncertain what course to take.

"This I knew would not do: the night was coming on, and the rain, which
had threatened all day, now began to fall fast. Making a desperate
effort, I sprang up the steps, and gave a gentle knock, so gentle that
it was unheard; and unable to summon sufficient courage to repeat the
experiment, I resumed my seat until some more fortunate applicant
should seek admittance.

"Not many minutes elapsed before the quick loud rap of the postman
brought Mrs. Jolly, the housekeeper, to the door; and edging close to
him of the red jacket, I asked in a tremulous voice--'If Mr. Mornington
was at home?'

"'Why, dearee me, master Philip, is that you?' said the kind woman,
elevating her spectacles: 'who would have thought of seeing you
t'night?'

"'Who, indeed! But, my dear Mrs. Jolly, is Mr. Mornington disengaged,
and can I see him?'

"'He is t'home, and you can speak to him, but not just now. He's to his
dinner, and doan't like to be disturbed. But come this way, an I'll
tell him you are here.'

"'Who's that you are speaking to, Mrs. Jolly?' cried my worthy old
friend as we passed the dining-room door, through which the footmen
were carrying an excellent dinner to table.

"'Only Mr. Philip, sir.'

"'Mr. Philip!' and the next moment, the old man came out and grasped me
warmly by the hand. 'Why, lad, what brings you back to school so
soon--tired of play already, hey?'

"'No, sir. I fear play will soon tire of me. I am to go to school no
more.'

"'Sorry to hear that, Phil. Just the time when instruction would be of
the most service to you. You would learn more in the ensuing year, than
in all that have gone before it. Leave school! no, no, I must see you
the head boy in it yet.'

"'That was my ambition, sir. But you know I am only a poor orphan lad,
entirely dependent on the bounty of Sir Alexander Moncton. I have
offended this gentleman, and he will do no more for me; and I walked
from the Park to-day to ask your advice as to what course I had better
pursue, and in what way I am most likely to earn my own living.'

"The old gentleman looked grave.

"'Offended Sir Alexander? You must have acted very imprudently to do
that, and he so kind to you. Walked all the way from Moncton. Bless the
boy, how tired and hungry you must be! Sit down, young Philip
Mornington, and get your dinner with old Philip Mornington; and we will
talk over these matters by and by.'

"Gladly I accepted the dear old gentleman's hearty invitation. I had
not tasted food since early dawn, and was so outrageously hungry and
eat with such a right good will, that he often stopped and laughed
heartily at my voracity.

"'Well done, Philip! Don't be ashamed: hold in your plate for another
slice of beef. Thirty miles of hard walking at this season of the year,
may well give a boy of sixteen, strong and healthy like you, a good
appetite.'

"After the cloth was drawn, and the old gentleman had refreshed me with
a couple of glasses of excellent wine, obedient to his request I
related to him my adventure with Theophilus Moncton in the park, and
its unfortunate results.

"Instead of blaming me, the whole affair seemed greatly to amuse the
hearty old man. He fell back in his chair, and chuckled and laughed
until he declared that his sides ached.

"'And was it for punishing that arrogant puppy as he deserved, that Sir
Alexander cast you, my fine fellow, from his favour?'

"'He might have forgiven that. It was for refusing so positively his
commands, in not asking young Moncton's pardon.'

"'If you had obeyed him in this instance, Philip, you would have
forfeited my good opinion for ever, and would have deserved to have
been kicked by Sir Alexander's lackeys for your meanness. Don't look so
cast down, boy. I honour you for your self-respect and independence.
You have other friends besides Sir Alexander Moncton, who will not
forsake you for taking your own part like a man. You shall go to school
yet--ay, and become the head scholar in Dr. Trimmer's head class, and
finish your education at Oxford, or my name is not Philip Mornington.'

"How well did this excellent, warm-hearted, generous man perform his
promise; how ill I profited by the education he gave me, and the wealth
he bequeathed to me at his death, the subsequent portion of my history
will reveal.

"I went to school at the end of the vacation, but as a day-boarder; Mr.
Mornington, having told me to consider his house as my future home.

"A boy who came from our village to Dr. Trimmer's school, told me that
Sir Alexander's passion soon cooled, and he rode over to the Lodge a
week after I left, to inquire after his old pet, and was surprised and
exasperated to find the bird flown, and taken by the hand by a man for
whom he had a great personal antipathy; who had ever opposed him in
politics, and had twice carried an election against him.

"There was enough of revenge in my composition to feel glad that Sir
Alexander was annoyed at my good-fortune.

"The next year saw me at college, with a handsome allowance from my
generous patron, to enable me to establish my claims as a gentleman. I
will pass over the three years I spent at this splendid abode of
learning and science.

"The gratitude I felt for all Mr. Mornington had done for me, for a
long time restrained me from indulging in the wild excesses which
disgraced the conduct of most of the young men with whom I associated.
This reluctance, however, to do and countenance evil, gradually wore
off, and I became as wild and dissipated as my companions.

"I formed many agreeable acquaintances at college, but had only one who
really deserved the name of a friend. Kind, gentle and studious,
Cornelius Laurie (for so I shall call him) mingled very little with his
fellow students: his health being delicate, he spent most of his
leisure hours in walking, an exercise of which he was particularly
fond, and in which generally participated.

"His mild, intelligent countenance first won my regard. I sought his
acquaintance, found him easy of access, friendly and communicative, and
always anxious to oblige every one as far as lay in his power.
Commanding an excellent income, he was always ready to assist the
improvident who had expended theirs, and with such a disposition, you
may be certain that the calls upon his purse were by no means few. He
formed a strong attachment to me, and we usually spent most of our time
together.

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