Books: Lizzy Glenn

T >> T.S. Arthur >> Lizzy Glenn

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

"Can it be Mrs. Gaston? But no! no!" and the young creature shook
her head mournfully.

"Eugenia!" exclaimed Mrs. Gaston, springing forward, and instantly
the two were locked in each other's arms, and clinging together with
convulsive eagerness.

"But no, no! It cannot be my own Eugenia," said Mrs. Gaston, slowly
disengaging herself, and holding the young woman from her, while she
read over every feature of her pale, thin face. "Surely I am in a
strange dream!"

"Yes, I am your own Eugenia Ballantine! my more than mother! Or, the
wreck of her, which a wave of life's ever restless ocean has heaved
upon the shore."

"Eugenia Ballantine! How can it be! Lost years ago at sea, how can
she be in this room, and in this condition! It is impossible! And
yet you are, you must be, my own dear Eugenia."

"I am! I am!" sobbed the maiden, leaning her head upon the bosom of
Mrs. Gaston, and weeping until tears fell in large drops upon the
floor.

"But the sea gives not up its dead," said Mrs. Gaston, in a
doubting, bewildered tone.

"True--but the sea never claimed me as a victim."

"And your father?"

The maiden's face flushed a moment, while a shade of anguish passed
over it.

"At another time, I will tell you all. My mind is now too much
agitated and confused. But why do I find you here? And more than
all, why as a poor seamstress, toiling for little more than a crust
of bread and a cup of water? Where is your husband? Where are your
children?"

"Three years ago," replied Mrs. Gaston, "we removed to this city. My
husband entered into business, and was unsuccessful. He lost every
thing, and about a year ago died, leaving me destitute. I have
struggled on, since then, the best I could, but to little purpose.
The pittance I have been able to earn at the miserable prices we are
paid by the tailors has scarcely sufficed to keep my children from
starving. But one of them"--and the mother's voice trembled--"my
sweet Ella! was not permitted to remain with me, when I could no
longer provide things comfortable for my little ones. A few short
weeks ago, she was taken away to a better world. It was a hard
trial, but I would not have her back again. And Henry, the dear boy,
you remember--I have been forced to let him go from my side out into
the world. I have neither seen nor heard from him since I parted
with him. Emma alone remains."

Mrs. Gaston's feelings so overcame her at this relation, that she
wept and sobbed for some time.

"But, my dear Eugenia!--my child that I loved so tenderly, and have
so long mourned as lost," she said, at length, drawing her arm
affectionately around Miss Ballantine, "in better and happier times,
we made one household for more than five pleasant years. Let us not
be separated now, when there are clouds over our heads and sorrow on
our paths. Together we shall be able to bear up better and longer
than when separated. I have a room, into which I moved a week since,
that is pleasanter than this. One room, one bed, one fire, and one
light, will do for two as well as one. We shall be better able to
contend with our lot together. Will you come with me, Eugenia?"

"Will I not, Mrs. Gaston? Oh, to be once more with you! To have one
who can love me as you will love me! One to whom I can unburden my
heart--Oh, I shall be too happy!"

And the poor creature hung upon the neck of her maternal friend, and
wept aloud.

"Then come at once," said Mrs. Gaston. "You have nothing to keep you
here?"

"No, nothing," replied Eugenia.

"I will get some one to take your trunk." And Mrs. Gaston turned
away and left the room. In a little while, she came back with a man,
who removed the trunk to her humble dwelling-place. Thence we will
follow them.

"And now, my dear Eugenia," said Mrs. Gaston, after they had become
settled down, and their minds had assumed a more even flow, "clear
up to me this strange mystery. Why are you here, and in this
destitute condition? How did you escape death? Tell me all, or I
shall still think myself only in the bewildering mazes of a dream."

CHAPTER X.

LIZZY GLENN'S NARRATIVE TO MRS. GASTON.

WITHOUT venturing the remotest allusion to her parting with her
lover, Miss Ballantine commenced her narrative by saying--

"When I left New York with my father, for New Orleans, no voyage
could have promised fairer. Mild, sunny weather, with good breezes
and a noble ship, that scarcely seemed to feel the deep swell of the
ocean, bore us pleasantly on toward the desired port. But, when only
five days out, an awful calamity befel us. One night I was awakened
from sleep by a terrific crash; and in a little while the startling
cry of 'The ship's on fire!' thrilled upon my ear, and sent an icy
shudder to my heart. I arose from my berth, and put on my clothes
hastily. By this time my father had come, dreadfully agitated, into
the cabin; and while his own lips quivered, and his own voice
trembled, he endeavored to quiet my fears, by telling me that there
was no danger; that the ship had been struck with lightning; but
that the fire occasioned thereby would readily be put out.

"When I ascended to the deck, however, I saw that we had little to
hope for. While the masts and rigging were all enveloped in flame, a
dense smoke was rising from the hold, indicating that the electric
fluid, in its descent through the ship, had come in contact with
something in the cargo that was highly combustible. Passengers and
crew stood looking on with pale, horror-stricken faces. But the
captain, a man of self-possession, aroused all from their lethargy
by ordering, in a loud, clear voice, the masts and rigging to be cut
away instantly. This order was obeyed. Over went, crashing and
hissing, three noble masts, with their wealth of canvas, all
enveloped in flames, quenching the heaven-enkindled fires in the
ocean. Then all was breathless and silent as the grave for some
moments, when a broad flash lit up the air, and revealed, for an
instant, the dismantled deck upon which we stood, followed by a
pealing crash that made the ship tremble. The deep silence that
succeeded was broken by the voice of the captain. His tones were
cheerful and confident.

"'All will now be well!' he cried. 'We are saved from fire, and our
good hull will bear us safely up until we meet a passing ship.'

"'But there is fire below, captain,' said one.

"'It cannot burn without air,' he replied, in the same tone of
confidence. 'We will keep the hatches closed and sealed; and it must
go out.'

"This took a load from my bosom. I saw that what he said was
reasonable. But when daylight came, it showed the smoke oozing out
through every crevice in the deck. The floors, too, were hot to the
feet, and indicated An advanced state of the fire within. All was
again terror and confusion, but our captain still remained
self-possessed. He saw that every hope of saving the ship was gone;
and at once ordered all the boats made ready, and well stored with
provisions. To the first and second mates, with a portion of the
crew, he assigned two of the boats, and in the third and largest he
embarked himself with four stout men and the passengers, twelve in
all. The sky was still overcast with clouds, and the sea rolled
heavily from the effects of the brief but severe storm that had
raged in the night. Pushing off front the doomed vessel, we lingered
near for a couple of hours to see what her fate would be. At the end
of that time, the dense smoke which had nearly hidden her from our
view, suddenly became one enveloping mass of flame. It was a
beautiful, yet appalling sight, to see that noble vessel thus
burning upon the breast of the sea! For nearly an hour her form,
sheeted in fire, stood out distinctly against the face of the sky,
and then she went down, and left only a few charred and mutilated
fragments afloat upon the surface to tell of her doom.

"During the night that followed, it stormed terribly, and in it our
boat was separated from the other two. We never met again, and for
all I have ever learned to the contrary, those that were saved in
them from the burning ship perished from hunger, or were overwhelmed
by some eager wave of the ocean.

"The four men of the ship's crew, with the captain and male
passengers, labored alternately at the oars, but with little effect.
Heavy seas, and continued stormy weather, rendered of little avail
all efforts to make much headway toward any port. Our main hope was
that of meeting with some vessel. But this hope mocked us day after
day. No ship showed her white sails upon the broad expanse of waters
that stretched, far as the eye could reach, in all directions. Thus
ten days passed, and our provisions and water were nearly exhausted.
Three of the passengers had become already very ill, and all of us
were more or less sick from exposure to the rain and sea. On the
twelfth day, two of our number died and were cast overboard. Others
became sick, and by the time we had been floating about thus for the
space of twenty days, only four of the twelve remained. Most of them
died with a raging fever. The captain was among the number, and
there was now no one to whom we could look with confidence. My
father still lived though exceedingly ill. Our companions were now
reduced to a young man and his sister.

"A bag of biscuit still remained, and a small portion of water. Of
this, none but myself could eat. The rest were too sick. Three days
more passed, and I was alone with my father! The brother and his
sister died, and with my own hands I had to consign them to their
grave in the sea. I need not attempt to give any true idea of my
feelings when I found myself thus alone, with my father just on the
brink of death, afar in the midst of the ocean. He was unconscious;
and I felt that I was on the verge of delirium. A strong fever made
the blood rush wildly through my veins, causing my temples to throb
as if they would burst. From about this time consciousness forsook
me. I can recollect little more until I found myself lying in a
berth, on board of a strange vessel. I was feeble as an infant. A
man, with the aspect of a foreigner, sat near me. He spoke to me,
but in a foreign tongue. I understood, and could speak French,
Spanish, and Italian; but I had never studied German, and this man
was a Hollander. Of course, I understood but a word here and there,
and not sufficient to gain any intelligence from what he said, or to
make him comprehend me, except when I asked for my father. Then he
understood me, and pointing across the cabin, gave me to know that
my father was with me in the the ship, though very sick.

"Small portions of nourishing food were now offered at frequent
intervals; and, as my appetite came back keenly, and I took the
scanty supply that was allowed me, I gradually gained strength. In a
week I was able to leave my berth, and to walk, with the assistance
of the captain of the vessel, for he it was whom I had first seen on
the restoration of consciousness, to the state-room in which my
father lay. Oh! how he had changed! I hardly recognized him. His
face had grown long and thin, his eyes were sunken far back in his
head, and his hair, that had been scarcely touched with the frosts
of age when we left New York, was white! He did not know me,
although he looked me feebly in the face. The sound of my voice
seemed to rouse him a little, but he only looked at me with a more
earnest gaze, and then closed his eyes. From this time I was his
constant nurse, and was soon blessed with finding him gradually
recovering. But as health came back to his body, it was too
appallingly visible that his reason had been shattered. He soon came
to know me, to speak to me, and to caress me, with more than his
usual fondness; but his mind was--alas! too evidently--imbecile. As
this state of mental alienation showed itself more and more
distinctly, on his gradually acquiring physical strength, it seemed
as if the painful fact would kill me. But we are formed to endure
great extremes of bodily and mental anguish. The bow will bend far
before it breaks.

"After I had recovered so as to leave my berth entirely, and when, I
suppose, the captain thought it would be safe to question me, he
brought a map, and indicated plainly enough that he wished me to
point out the country I was from. I laid my hand upon the United
States. He looked surprised. I glanced around at the ship, and then
pointed to the map with a look of inquiry. He placed his finger near
the Island of St. Helena. It was now my turn to look surprised. By
signs I wished him to tell me how we should get back; and he
indicated, plainly enough, that he would put us on board of the
first vessel he met that was returning either to Europe or the
United States, or else would leave us at the Cape of Good Hope. But
day after day passed, and we met no returning vessel. Before we
reached the Cape, a most terrific storm came on, which continued
many days, in which the ship lost two of her masts, and was driven
far south. It seemed to me as if my father and I had been doomed to
perish in the ocean, and the sea would not, therefore, relinquish
its prey. It was ten or twelve days before the storm had
sufficiently abated to leave the vessel manageable in the hands of
the captain and crew, and then the captain's reckoning was gone. He
could get his latitude correctly, but not his longitude, except by a
remote approximation. His first observation, when the sky gave an
opportunity, showed us to be in latitude forty-five degrees south.
This he explained to me, and also the impracticability of now making
the Cape, pointing out upon the map the Swan River Settlement in
Australia as the point he should endeavor first to make. A heavy
ship, with but one mast, made but slow progress. On the third day
another storm overtook us, and we were driven before the gale at a
furious rate. That night our vessel stuck and went to pieces. Six of
us escaped, my father among the rest, and the captain, in a boat,
and were thrown upon the shore of an uninhabited island. In the
morning there lay floating in a little protected cove of the island
barrels of provisions, as pork, fish, bread, and flour, with chests,
and numerous fragments of the ship, and portions of her cargo. The
captain and sailors at once set about securing all that could
possibly be rescued from the water, and succeeded in getting
provisions and clothing enough to last all of us for many months,
if, unfortunately, we should not earlier be relieved from our
dreadful situation. My father had become strong enough to go about
and take care of himself, but his mind was feebler, and he seemed
more like an old man in his second childhood than one in the prime
of life as he was. He was not troublesome to any one, nor was there
any fear of trusting him by himself. He was only like an imbecile
old man--and such even the captain thought him.

"A thing which I failed to mention in its place, I might as well
allude to here. On recovery from that state of physical exhaustion
in which the humane captain of the Dutch East Indiaman had found me,
my hand rested accidentally upon the pocket of my father's coat,
which hung up in the state-room that had been assigned to them. His
pocket-book was there. It instantly occurred to me to examine it,
and see how much money it contained, for I knew that, unless we had
money, before getting back, we would be subjected to inconvenience,
annoyance, and great privation; and as my father seemed to be so
weak in mind, all the care of providing for our comfort, I saw,
would devolve upon me. I instantly removed the pocket-book, which
was large. I found a purse in the same pocket, and took that also.
With these I retired into my own state-room, and fastening the door
inside, commenced an examination of their contents. The purse
contained twenty eagles; and in the apartments of the pocket-book
were ten eagles more, making three hundred dollars in gold. In bank
bills there were five of one thousand dollars each, ten of one
hundred dollars, and about two hundred dollars in smaller amounts,
all of New York city banks. These I took and carefully sewed up in
one of my under garments, and also did the same with the gold. I
mention this, as it bears with importance upon our subsequent
history.

"A temporary shelter was erected; a large pole with a white flag
fastened to it, as a signal to any passing vessel, was set up; and
the captain, with two of his men, set out to explore the island.
They were gone for two days. On returning, they reported no
inhabitants, but plenty of good game, if any way could be devised to
take it. No vessel appearing, after the lapse of some twelve or
fifteen days, the men set about building for us a more comfortable
place of shelter. One of these men had been a carpenter, and as an
axe and saw, and some few tools, had come ashore on pieces of the
wreck, and in chests, he was enabled to put up a very comfortable
tenement, with an apartment for me partitioned off from the main
room.

"Here we remained for I can scarcely tell how long. It was, I
believe, for about a year and a half; during which time two of the
men died, and our party was reduced to four. About this period, when
all of us began to feel sick from hope deferred, and almost to wish
that we might die, a heavy storm came up, with wind from the
north-west, and blew heavily for three or four days. On the morning
of the fourth day, when the wind had subsided, a vessel, driven out
of her course, was seen within a few leagues of the land. Signals
were instantly made, and our eyes gladdened by the sight of a boat
which was put off from the ship. In this we soon embarked, and, with
a sensation of wild delight, found ourselves once more treading the
deck of a good vessel. She was an English merchantman, bound for
Canton. We made a quick passage to that port, where we found a
vessel just ready to sail for Liverpool. In this I embarked, with my
father, who still remained in the same sad state of mental
derangement. No incident, worthy of referring to now, occurred on
our passage to Liverpool, whence we embarked for New Orleans, at
which place we arrived, after having been absent from our native
land for the long space of nearly three years! How different were my
feelings, my hopes, my heart, on the day I returned to that city
eight years from the time I left it as a gay child, with the world
all new and bright and beautiful before me! I need not draw the
contrast. Your own thoughts can do that vividly enough.

"You can scarcely imagine the eagerness with which I looked forward
to an arrival in my native city. We had friends there, and a
fortune, and I fed my heart with the pleasing hope that skillful
physicians would awaken my father's slumbering reason into renewed
and healthy activity. Arrived there at last, we took lodgings at a
hotel, where I wrote a brief note to my father's partner, in whose
hands all the business had been, of course, during our absence,
stating a few facts as to our long absence and asking him to attend
upon us immediately. After dispatching this note, I waited in almost
breathless expectation, looking every moment to see Mr. Paralette
enter. But hour after hour passed, and no one came. Then I sent
notes to two or three of my father's friends, whom I recollected,
but met with no response during the day. All this strange
indifference was incomprehensible to me. It was, in part, explained
to my mind on the next morning, when one of the persons to whom I
had written called, and was shown up into our parlor by request.
There was a coldness and reserve about him, combined with a too
evident suspicion that it was not all as I had said. That my father
was not Mr. Ballantine, nor I his daughter--but both, in fact,
impostors! And certain it is that the white-headed imbecile old man
bore but little resemblance to the fine, manly, robust form, which
my father presented three years before. The visitor questioned and
cross-questioned me; and failed not to hint at what seemed to him
discrepancies, and even impossibilities in my story. I felt
indignant at this; at the same time my heart sank at the suddenly
flashing conviction that, after all our sufferings and long weary
exile from our home, we should find ourselves but strangers in the
land of our birth--be even repulsed from our own homestead.

"Our visitor retired after an interview of about half an hour,
giving me to understand pretty plainly that he thought both my
father and myself impostors. His departure left me faint and sick at
heart. But from this state I aroused myself, after a while, and
determined to go and see Mr. Paralette at once. A servant called a
carriage, and I ordered the driver to take me to the store of
Ballantine & Paralette.

"'There is no such firm now, madam,' he said; 'Mr. Ballantine was
lost at sea some years ago. It is Paralette & Co. now.'

"'Drive me there, then,' I said, in a choking voice.

"In a few minutes the carriage stopped at the place I had
designated, and I entered the store formerly kept by my father.
Though I had been absent for eight years, yet every thing looked
familiar, and nothing more familiar than the face of Mr. Paralette,
my father's partner. I advanced to meet him with a quick step; but
his look of unrecognition, and the instant remembrance that he had
not attended to my note, and moreover that it had been plainly
hinted to me that I was an impostor, made me hesitate, and my whole
manner to become confused.

"'Eugenia Ballantine is my name,' said I, in a quivering voice. 'I
dropped you a note yesterday, informing you that my father and I had
returned to the city.'

"He looked at me a moment with a calm, severe, scrutinizing gaze,
and then said--

"'Yes, I received your note, and have this moment seen Mr.--, who
called upon you. And he corroborates the instant suspicion I had
that your story could not be correct. He tells me that the man whom
you call your father resembles Moses a great deal more than he does
the late Mr. Ballantine. So you see, madam, that your story won't go
for any thing here.'

"There was something cold and sneering in the tone, manner, and
expression of Mr. Paralette that completely broke me down. I saw, in
an instant, that my case was hopeless, at least for the time. I was
a lone, weak woman, and during an absence of eight years from my
native city, I had grown up from a slender girl into a tall woman,
and had, from suffering and privation, been greatly changed, and my
countenance marred even since I had attained the age of womanhood.
Under these circumstances, with my father changed so that no one
could recognize him, I felt that to make my strange story believed
would be impossible. From the presence of Mr. Paralette I retired,
and went back to the hotel, feeling as if my heart would break. Oh,
it was dreadful to be thus repulsed, and at home, too I tried only
twice more to make my story believed; failing in these efforts, I
turned all my thoughts toward the restoration of my father to mental
health, believing that, when this was done, he, as a man, could
resume his own place and his true position. I had over six thousand
dollars of the money I had taken from my father's pocket-book, and
which I had always kept so completely concealed about my person,
that no one had the least suspicion of it. Five thousand of this I
deposited on interest, and with the residue took a small house in
the suburbs of the city, which I furnished plainly, and removed into
it with my father. I then employed two of the most skillful
physicians in the city, and placed him in their hands, studiously
concealing from them our real names and history. For eighteen months
he was under medical treatment, and for at least six months of that
time in a private insane hospital. But all to no effect. Severe or
lenient treatment all ended in the same result. He continued a
simple, harmless old man, fond of me as a child is of his mother,
and looking up to and confiding in me for every thing.

"At the end of the period I have indicated, I found my means had
become reduced to about three thousand dollars. This awoke in my
bosom a new cause of anxiety. If my father should not recover his
reason in two or three years, I would have nothing upon which to
support him, and be compelled to see him taken to some public
institution for the insane, there to be treated without that
tenderness and regard which a daughter can exercise toward her
parent. This fear haunted me terribly.

"It was near the end of the period I have named, that I met with an
account of the Massachusetts Insane Hospital, situated in
Charlestown in this State. I was pleased with the manner in which
patients were represented to be treated, and found that, by
investing in Boston the balance of my little property, the income
would be sufficient to pay for my father's maintenance there. As for
myself, I had no fear but that with my needle, or in some other way,
I could easily earn enough to supply my own limited wants. A long
conference with one of the physicians who had attended my father,
raised my hopes greatly as to the benefits which might result from
his being placed in an institution so well conducted.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13