The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and Other Tales Part 55

"And now," said the young man, "give me your hand as of old, dear father, and let me lead you."

"Whither?"

"Into the saloon of the chateau, to present you to General Duvivier and his guests."

"What! in my rags! before all that grand company?"

"Why not, father? The ragged uniform of a brave soldier who bears the cross of honor on his breast is the proudest decoration in the world.

Come, father."

Leading his blind father, young Bertrand reentered the saloon he had so lately left, and went directly to the general, who was standing, surrounded by his glittering staff.

"General," said he, "_here_ is my t.i.tle of n.o.bility--my father is all the wealth I possess in the world."

Tears started to the general's eyes, and he shook the old soldier warmly by the hand. Then beckoning to Julie, he led her to Victor, and placed her trembling hand in his.

"Let this dear girl," said he, "make amends for my coldness a moment since. A son so n.o.ble hearted is worthy of all happiness."

In a word, Captain, afterwards Colonel, Bertrand married the general's daughter, and the happiness of their fireside was completed by the constant presence of the good old soldier, to whose self-denial Victor owed his honors and domestic bliss.

TAKING CHARGE OF A LADY.

The steamer Ben Franklin--it was many years ago, reader--was just on the point of leaving her dock at Providence, when a slender, pale young man, with sandy whiskers and green eyes, who had just safely stowed away his valise, honorably paid his fare, and purchased a supper ticket, and now stood on the upper deck, leaning on his blue cotton umbrella in a mild att.i.tude of contemplation, was accosted by a benevolent-looking old gentleman, in gold-bowed spectacles, upon whose left arm hung a feminine, in a bright mazarine blue broadcloth travelling habit, with a gold watch at her waist, and a green veil over her face, with the (to a timid young man) startling question of,--

"Pray, sir, will you be so kind as to take charge of a lady?"

The slender young man with the blue cotton umbrella blushed up to the roots of his sandy hair, but he bowed deeply and affirmatively.

"We were disappointed in not meeting a friend, sir," continued the benevolent-looking old gentleman, "and so I had to trust to chance for finding an escort to f.a.n.n.y. Only as far as New York, sir; my daughter will give you very little trouble. She's a strong-minded, independent woman, sir, and abundantly able to take care of herself; but I don't like the idea of ladies travelling alone. If the boat sinks, sir, she's abundantly able to swim ash.o.r.e. Good by, f.a.n.n.y."

"Father," said the lady in the blue habit, in a deep and mellow baritone,--rather a queer voice for a woman, though,--"a parting salute!" She threw back her veil, displaying a pair of piercing black eyes, kissed the paternal cheek, veiled the black eyes a moment with a lace-bordered handkerchief, as her sire descended the gang plank,--his exit being deprived of dignity by the sudden withdrawal of the board,--and then placed her arm within that of the sandy-haired young gentleman, and began walking him up and down the promenade deck.

"Isn't this delightful?" said she. "O, what can exceed the pleasure of travelling, when one has a sympathizing friend as a companion!" And she rather pressed the arm of her companion. She was strong-handed as well as strong-minded.

Mr. Brown, for that was the name of the timid young gentleman with the sandy hair and the blue cotton umbrella, was not particularly susceptible, for he had already lost his heart to a sandy-haired young lady, who resided in New York; and, besides, he didn't like strong-minded women; so he asked, very unromantically, but sensibly, if the happy parent of the lady in the blue habit had purchased her a ticket.

"I believe--I am certain that he did not," was the reply. "Father is so forgetful!"

"I'll do it myself then, ma'am--if you'll excuse me a moment. What name?"

"Brown," said the lady.

"My own name!" cried the young man.

"Is it possible?" cried the blue beauty. "What a coincidence! How striking! charming!"

She made no offer of money, and Brown invested his own funds in a pa.s.sage and supper ticket.

"You dear creature!" cried the lady, when he handed them to her, "you are very attentive. But there was no necessity for this supper ticket.

I am the least eater in the world."

She said nothing about the cost of the tickets; and how could Brown broach the subject?

"There's that bell, at last!" she cried, when the supper bell rang; "do let's hurry down, Brown, for people are so rude and eager on board steamboats, that unless you move quick you lose your chance."

Brown was hurried along by his fair friend, and she struggled through the crowd till she headed the column and got an excellent seat at the table. Our sandy-haired friend had exalted opinions of the delicacy of female appet.i.tes; he had never helped ladies at a ball, or seen them in a pantry at luncheon time, and fancied they fed as lightly as canary birds. He was rather glad to hear f.a.n.n.y make that remark about the supper ticket on the promenade deck. But now he found she could eat. The cold drops of perspiration stood upon his forehead as he watched the evidences of her voracity. She was helped four times, by the captain, to beefsteak--no miniature slices either, but huge, broad cubes of solid flesh. A dish of oysters attracted her eye, and she gobbled them up every one. Toast and hot bread disappeared before her ravenous appet.i.te. Sponge and pound cake were despatched with fearful celerity. She took up the attention of one particular n.i.g.g.e.r, and he looked weary and collapsed when the supper was finished.

Yet, after all this, f.a.n.n.y paraded the deck, and had the heart to talk about the "orbs of heaven," and Sh.e.l.ley, and Byron, and Tennyson, and Ralph Waldo Emerson, and f.a.n.n.y Ellsler, and Schiller. Brown was very glad when she retired to the lady's cabin.

The morning he rose late, purposely to avoid her till the boat touched the wharf. He engaged a carriage and hunted up the lady's baggage; fortunately there was not much of it. This done, he escorted her on sh.o.r.e, and handed her into the coach.

"Now, then," said the one-eyed driver,--he had recently lost his eye in a fight, on the first night of his return from Blackwell's Island,--"where away? Oyster House, Merrikin, or Globe?"

"Where are you going, madam?" asked Brown.

"Where are _you_ going?" asked the lady.

"To the American, ma'am."

"What a coincidence!" exclaimed the lady, rolling up her black eyes.

"American House, driver."

"All right--in with you!" cried the one-eyed man, as he pitched Brown headlong into the coach, slammed the rickety door on him, sprang to his box, and lashed his sorry steeds into a gallop. In due time they arrived, and a room was engaged for the lady, and one for her cavalier.

Brown went up town as soon as he had dressed, to see his sweetheart, taking particular care to say nothing of his namesake, the fair f.a.n.n.y.

The next day he was promenading Broadway with Miss S., when he was confronted, opposite St. Paul's, by a furious man, with black whiskers, who halted directly in his path.

"Do you call yourself Brown?" asked the furious man, furiously.

"That's my name, sir," said the sandy-haired young gentleman, meekly.

"It's _my_ name, sir," shouted the furious man. "John Brown. Now you know who I am. Do you know Mrs. Brown?"

"I don't know," stammered the unfortunate young man with sandy hair.

"Who did you come from Providence with? answer me that!" roared the furious man, getting as black as his whiskers with apoplectic rage.

"I--I took charge of a lady, certainly," stammered the guiltless but confounded young man.

"You took charge of Mrs. Brown, sir--f.a.n.n.y Sophonisba Brown, sir, who has left my bed and board without provocation, sir,--_vide_ the Providence papers, sir,--left me, sir, because I didn't approve of her strong-minded goings on, sir, her woman's-rights meetings, sir, and her n.i.g.g.e.r colonizations, sir, and her--but that's enough, sir."

Here Miss Sumker, who was a mild, freckled-faced girl, dropped the arm of her companion, and meekly sat down on a doorstep, and covered her face with a handkerchief.