The Bride Of Fort Edward: Founded On An Incident Of The Revolution Part 24

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Doth he? _'Tis he!_

_Mait_. Helen!

_Helen_. 'Tis he! That tone's spell builds around me its all-sheltering music-walls, and death is nothing. Oh G.o.d, when at thy dark will dimly revealed, I trembled yesterday, I did not think in this most rosy bower to meet its fearfulness.

_Mait_. Helen,--dost thou love me _yet_?

_Helen_. Doubter, am I dying here?



_Mait_. 'Tis her own most rich and blessed smile, even as of old in mirth it shone upon me. Your murderer, you count me then?

_Helen_. Come hither,--let me lean on _you_. Star of the wilderness!--of this life that is fading now, the sun!--_doth_ mine eye see thee, then, at last? Oh! this is sweet! On its own holy home my head rests now.

Everard, in this dark world _Love leans on Faith_. How else, even in G.o.d's love and loveliness, could I trust now for that strange future on whose b.l.o.o.d.y threshold I am lying here; yes, and in spite of prayers and trust, and struggling hopes. And yet--how beautiful it is--that love invisible, invisible no more. Like glorious suns.h.i.+ne it is streaming round me,--lighting all. The infinite of that thy smile hath imaged, as real,--it beams on me now. Have faith, in _him_ I mean; for--if we meet again--we'll need it then no more; and--how dim it grows--nay, let me lean on you,--and--through _this_ life's darkening gla.s.s I shall see you no more. Nay, hold me!--quick!--where art thou?--Everard!--He is gone--gone!

_Lady A_. Dead!--

_Mor_. She is dead!

_Andre_. This was Love.

_Lady A_. See how her eyes are fixed on _you_. The light and love of the vanished soul looks through them still. Cruelly hath it been sent thence; and no other gleam of its changeful beauty will e'er dawn in them. Sadly, oh lovely stranger, I close for ever now these dark-fringed lids upon their love and beauty. Yes--_this_ was love!

_Andre_. And so there was a need-be in its doom. I'll ne'er believe _that_ genuine, that is blessed. The fate of this life would not suffer it. Ah! if it would, if Heaven should leave a gem like that outside her walls, we should none of us go thither.

_Mait_. Dead? How beautiful! Yes--let her lie there--under that lovely canopy. Dead!--it's a curious word--How comes it that we all stand here?

Ha, Andre?--is it you?

_Andre_. I heard the tale as I crossed just now, from an Indian, who was one in the ambuscade this noon--and in the woods on the other side, I found this lady, with her attendants, abiding the promise she made you last night, to welcome this lovely stranger with her savage guides.

_Mait_. Hush, hush. Let it pa.s.s. See,--a bride!

_Mor_. (_Aside_.) Did he trust her with these murderers?

_Mait_. Ay--say yes.

_Andre_. Indeed, Maitland, you wrong yourself. It was the treachery of this savage Manida that crossed your plans, working the mission of some Higher power,--as for Alaska, you might as soon have doubted me.

The Chief he sent for her was one he had known years--but, unfortunately, he was one in the ambuscade this morning--nay, the leader of it; for the murdered Indian was his son; and meanwhile amid the fight the treacherous Manida, who accompanied him to Maitland's tent last night, and heard the promised reward, found means to steal from its concealment the letter, with which he easily won this trusting lady to accompany him.

_Mor_. Ah!--there it lies.

_Andre_. It was here in this glen that Alaska, discovering the treachery, lay in wait for them with a band of chosen warriors, and on that cliff above they fought.

_Lady A_. (_Aside_.) And she stood there, amid those yelling demons alone! Methinks the angels should have come from their unseen dwellings at her prayer. Can our humanity's darkest extremity wring no love from the invisible?--

_Andre_. Alaska had regained his charge; but the malignant eye, and the deadly arrow of the vanquished Indian followed her. She fell, even in the place where you found her; for at that same instant a party from the fort drove them hence, victor and vanquished. Alaska fled; but the murderer, with a tale cunning enough to deceive the lover, boldly demanded and obtained the prize.

_Mor_. Mark his changed mien. I would rather see tears for a grief like this, than that calm smile with which he gazes on her now.

(_Burgoyne and St. Leger are seen talking in the road above,--they enter the glen_.)

_Bur_. At a crisis like this we might better have lost a thousand men in battle! Ah! ah!--a sight for our enemies, Lady Ackland! Where is this Indian?

_St. L_. We have sent out for him. No one has seen him as yet.

_Bur_. Let him be found. Look to it. We will give them an example for once. I say, at a crisis like this we might better have lost a thousand men in battle, for it will turn thousands against us, and rouse the slumbering spirit of resistance here, at the very crisis when, had it slumbered on a little longer, all was ours.

_St. L_. But this was a quarrel among the Indians, and no fault of ours.

_Bur_. No matter. You will see what Schuyler will make of it. His wordy proclamation will have its living sequel now. A young and innocent girl, seeking the protection of our camp, is inhumanly murdered by Indians in our pay. A single tale like this is enough to undo at a blow all that we have accomplished here. With ten thousand wild aggravations, it will be told in every cottage of these borders before to-morrow's sunset.

(_Another Officer enters hastily_.)

_Off_. Here is Arnold, with a thousand men, on the brow of the next hill. One of the rebel guard escaped, and the news of the ma.s.sacre here has reached their camp below.

_Bur_. Said I right?

(_The three Officers go out together_.)

_Andre_. This story is spreading fast, there will be throngs here presently. Maitland,--nay, do not let me startle you thus, but--

_Mait_. Is it you? What was it we were saying yesterday?--we should have noted it. This were a picture worth your pencilling now. Those silken vestments,--that long, golden hair,--this youthful shape,--there's that same haughty grace about it, that the smile of these thought-lit eyes would disown with every glance. Then that letter,--and the Lady Ackland here,--Weeping?--This is most strange. I know you all,--but,--as I live I can't remember how this chanced. How comes it that we all stand here?

Pearls?--and white silk?--a bridal?--Ha ha ha! (_Laughing wildly_.)

_Lady A_. Take me away. This is too terrible! lean stay here no longer.

Take me away, Andre.

[_Exeunt Andre and Lady A_.

(_An Officer enters_.)

_The Officer_. We are ordered to withdraw our detachment, Captain Maitland. The rebels are just below, some two thousand strong, and in no mood to be encountered.

_Mor_. He does not hear you. We must leave that murdered lady here, and 'tis vain to think of parting them. Come.

[_Exeunt Mortimer and Officer_.

_Mait_. They are gone at last. They are all gone. I am alone with my dead bride. I must needs smile--I could not weep when those haughty and prying eyes were upon me, but now--I am alone with my dead bride.--Helen, they are all gone,--we are alone. How still she lies,--smiling too,--on that same bank. She will speak, surely she will.

How lightly those soft lashes lie, as if a word would lift them.--Helen!--I will be calm and patient as a child. This lovely smile is deepening, it will melt to words again.--Hark! that spring,--that same curious murmur! We have checked our sweetest words to hear it, we have stood here listening to it, till we fancied, in its talk-like tones, wild histories, beautiful and sad, the secrets of the woods.--Oh G.o.d!--and have such memories no power here now? In mine ear alone doth the spring murmur now. Death! what is't?--Awake! awake,--by the love that is _stronger_ than death,--awake!--

I thought that scene would s.h.i.+ft. It had a heavy, dream-like mistiness.

_This_ is reality again. _These_ are the pine trees that I dreamed of.

See! how beautiful! With the sharp outline and the vivid hue such as our childhood's unworn sense yields, they are waving now. Look, Andre, there she sits, the young and radiant stranger,--there, in the golden sunset she is sitting still, braiding those flowers,--see, how the rich life flashes in her eye, and yet, just now I dreamed that she was dead, and--and--Oh my G.o.d!

(_A voice without_.)

Let go, who stays me?--where's my sister?

(_Captain Grey enters_.)

The Bride Of Fort Edward: Founded On An Incident Of The Revolution Part 24

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