Elinor Wyllys Volume I Part 23

"Certainly not. But I have no idea who the man can be; I don't know a single common seaman by sight or name--at least, the only one I ever knew is long since dead. It is singular that this fellow should have known my name even; they say he was a stranger at Longbridge."

"Entirely so, I believe."

"What was his name?"

"William Thompson, they told me."

"If he is a sailor, he probably has a dozen aliases," interposed Mr. Clapp, who had been listening very attentively.

"By-the-bye, Clapp, they say he included you in his kind wishes."

"Yes, sir, so I understand."

"William, you never mentioned it to me!" said his wife.

"No, my dear; I did not attach any importance to the story,"

replied the lawyer, pulling out his handkerchief with one hand, and running the other through his hair--looking a little nervous and uneasy, notwithstanding.

"He did not exactly threaten you, Mr. Clapp, while I was with him," said the doctor; "he seemed rather to depend upon you as an ally."

"Still more singular," said Mr. Clapp, with a glance at Mr.

Wyllys.

"That was very strange!" exclaimed his wife--"what could the man mean?"

"It is by no means easy to explain the meaning of a drunken man, my dear. It is just possible he may have heard my name as a man of business. I have had several sailors for clients, and one quite recently, staying at the same tavern."

"I dare say, if explained, it would prove to be Much ado about Nothing," said Mr. Wyllys. "Since the fellow was drunk at the time, and went off as soon as he grew sober, the danger does not seem very imminent."

{"Much ado about Nothing" = an allusion to Shakespeare's play of that name}

"Precisely my opinion, sir," said Mr. Clapp.

"Grandpapa, do you remember the sailor who was found near our house, one night, about two years ago? It was my birth-day, and we had a little party--have you forgotten?"

"True, my child; I have never thought of the fellow since; but now you speak of him, I remember the fact."

"Do you not think it is probably the same person?--you know Harry had him locked up: perhaps he owes you both a grudge for the treatment he received at Wyllys-Roof, upon that occasion."

"That accounts for the whole affair, Miss Elinor--you have cleared up the mystery entirely," said Mr. Clapp, looking much relieved. He not only appeared grateful to Elinor for the explanation given, but seemed to extend the obligation to all the family; for he was particularly attentive to Mr. Wyllys, and Miss Agnes, during the whole evening--and the next morning, early, drove out to Wyllys-Roof, expressly to carry some brook-trout, for Mr. Wyllys's breakfast. The lawyer informed several persons, who alluded to the story, of this simple explanation, which seemed to satisfy all who heard it. The whole affair was soon forgotten, for a time, at least.

CHAPTER XVI.

"Weak and irresolute is man; The purpose of to-day Woven with pains into his plan, To-morrow rends away."

COWPER.

{William Cowper (English poet, 1731-1800), "Human Frailty" lines 1-4}

AFTER an absence of a week, or ten days, Harry returned to Wyllys-Roof, not at all sorry to hear that he was too late to see the Grahams, as they were going to New York the next morning. He was very attentive to Elinor--pointedly so. Once or twice, she was going to jest with him upon the subject, and inquire the cause of this studied gallantry; but observing he was still a little out of spirits, she contented herself with thanking him for the books he had brought her.

The next day proved so mild, so hazy, and Indian-summer-like, that Hazlehurst proposed to take advantage of it, to give the ladies a row on the river. They were out for a couple of hours, landed on the opposite bank, and paid a visit to their friends, the Bernards, who lived a mile or two below them. The air was delightful, the country looked beautiful--fresher, perhaps, than at midsummer; for the heat was no longer parching, and the September showers had washed away the dust, and brought out the green gra.s.s again. Harry had become interested in the conversation, and was particularly agreeable; Miss Agnes was pleased with his remarks, and Elinor thought she had never pa.s.sed a pleasanter morning; she was little aware that it was to be followed by many anxious, painful days.

They landed, as usual, at the boat-house; and the ladies prepared to walk slowly across the lawn, while Harry secured the boat and oars. As they approached the house, they were surprised to see several of the servants collected on the piazza, listening so intently to a lad that they did not see the ladies. Old Hetty, a superannuated negro cook, who had lived all her life in the family, was wringing her hands and wiping her eyes with her ap.r.o.n; while Mammy Sarah, Elinor's former nurse, a respectable white woman, was talking to the boy.

Elinor quickened her pace, and hastened before her aunt, to inquire into the cause of this distress.

"What is it, Mammy?" she asked, on reaching the piazza. "What is the matter?"

"Oh, dearie me; Miss Elly, Miss Elly!" exclaimed old Hetty; with a fresh burst of tears.

"Tell us--Hetty--Mammy--what has happened?" said Miss Wyllys, as she approached.

"Oh, Miss Aggess, Miss Aggess--dreadful news!" said the old negro woman, burying her face in her ap.r.o.n.

"My father?" asked Miss Agnes, faintly, and trembling with alarm.

"No, ma'am," said Mammy Sarah, looking very sad, however; "Mr.

Wyllys is very well, and we were hoping he would come in before you, so that we could get at the truth."

"Let us hear what you have to say, at once, Mammy," continued Miss Agnes, anxiously.

"Billy, here, has brought bad news from Longbridge."

"Dreadful news!" interposed old Hetty. "Oh, Miss Aggess! Billy say Miss Jane--"

"What is it?--Speak plainly!" cried Miss Wyllys.

"There's an accident happened to the steamboat," added Mammy.

"B'iler bust--dearie me--Miss Jane's scall to death!" exclaimed Hetty.

A cry of horror burst from Elinor and her aunt, and they turned towards Mammy Sarah.

"I hope it isn't quite so bad, ma'am," said Mammy; "but Billy says the steamboat boiler did really burst after she had got only half a mile from the wharf."

A second sufficed for Miss Agnes and Elinor to remember Hetty's fondness for marvels and disasters, and they hoped ardently that the present account might be exaggerated. They turned to the boy: "What had he heard?" "Whom had he seen?" Billy reported that he had seen the boat himself; that he had heard the cries from her decks, which the people in the street thought had come from some horses on board, that must have been scalded; that another boat had gone out to the Longbridge steamer, and had towed her to a wharf a few rods from the spot where the accident happened; that he had seen, himself, a man on horseback, coming for the doctor; and the people told him five horses had been killed, two men badly hurt, and Mr. Graham's eldest daughter was scalded so badly that she was not expected to live.

Miss Wyllys's anxiety increased on hearing the boy's story; she ordered the carriage instantly, determined that under any circ.u.mstances, it would be best to go to Longbridge at once, either to discover the truth, or to a.s.sist Mrs. Graham in nursing Jane, if she were really badly injured. At this moment, Harry returned from the boat-house.

"What is the matter?" he exclaimed, springing up the piazza steps, and looking round upon the sad and anxious faces.

"We have heard bad news from Longbridge," said Miss Wyllys; but before she could explain herself, old Hetty burst into tears again, and turning to Hazlehurst, exclaimed:

"Oh, Ma.s.sa Harry!--dreadful news!--Miss Jane scall to death in steamboat!"

Miss Wyllys was so much struck with the effect of these words on Harry, that for an instant she forgot to say "she trusted the story had been exaggerated." Hazlehurst lost all colour--stood speechless and motionless for a moment. Elinor was too much agitated herself to speak. Suddenly, Harry met Miss Agnes' eye; he turned from her, rushed through the house, and continued walking rapidly up and down the avenue, apparently forgetful of everything but his own feelings. Amid all her anxiety for Jane, Miss Wyllys could not but remark Hazlehurst's manner--he seemed entirely overcome, by his emotion; and yet he had not asked one question, nor made one offer to do anything for Elinor, or herself; and one would have thought it more natural that at such a moment he should have remained with them, pained and distressed as they were. Elinor only thought that Hazlehurst's feelings did credit to his heart; her own was full of grief for the suffering of her playfellow and companion, whom she had loved almost as a sister.