A KNIGHT OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY by Edward Payson Roe (world of reading .txt) 📖

Communicate With Them Until He Had

Something Favorable To Tell; And He Hoped, And Almost Believed, That

Before Many Days Passed, He Could Address To Them A Literary Weekly

Paper In which They Would Find, In prominent Position, The Underscored

Initials Of E. H. Until He Could Be Preceded by The First Flashes Of

Fame He Would Remain In obscurity. He Would Not Even Let Mrs. Arnot Know

Where He Was Hiding, So That She Might Send To Him His Personal Effects

Left At Her House. Indeed, He Had No Place For Them Now, And Was,

Besides, More Morbidly Bent Than Ever On Making Good The Proud Words He

Had Spoken. If, In the Face Of Such Tremendous Odds He Could, Alone And

Unaided, With Nothing But His Hands And Brain, Win Again All And More

Than He Had Lost, He Could Compel The Respect And Admiration Of Those

Who Had Witnessed his Downfall And Consequent Victorious Struggle.

 

 

 

Was The Girl Who Had Inspired his Sudden, And, As He Had Supposed,

"Undying" Passion, Forgotten During These Trying Days? Yes, To A Great

Extent. His Self-Love Was Greater Than His Love For Laura Romeyn. He

Craved intensely To Prove That He Was No Longer A Proper Object Of Her

Scorn. She Had Rejected him As A Slave To "Disgusting Vices," And Such

He Had Apparently Shown Himself To Be; But Now He Would Have Been

Willing To Have Dipped his Pen In his Own Blood, And Have Written Away

His Life, If Thereby He Could Have Filled her With Admiration And

Regret. Although He Scarcely Acknowledged it To Himself, Perhaps The

Subtlest And Strongest Impulse To His Present Course Was The Hope Of

Teaching Her That He Was Not What She Now Regarded him. But He Was Not

At That Time Capable Of A Strong, True Affection For Any One, And

Thoughts Of The Pretty Maiden Wounded his Pride More Than His Heart.

 

 

 

After Arriving at The Further Bank Of The Ravine, Back Of Mrs. Arnot'S

Residence, He Sat Down For A While, And Gave Himself Up To A Very Bitter

Revery. There, In the Bright Spring Sunshine, Was The Beautiful Villa

Which Might Have Been A Second Home To Him. The Gardener Was At Work

Among The Shrubbery, And The Sweet Breath Of Crocuses And Hyacinths Was

Floated to Him On The Morning Breeze. There Were The Windows Of His

Airy, Lovely Room, In comparison With Which The Place In which He Now

Slept Was A Kennel. If He Had Controlled and Hidden His Passion, If He

Had Waited and Wooed patiently, Skilfully, Winning First Esteem And

Friendship, And Then Affection, Yonder Garden Paths Might Have Witnessed

Many Happy Hours Spent With The One Whom He Loved as Well As He Could

Love Any One Save Himself. But Now--And He Cursed himself And His Folly.

 

 

 

Poor Fellow! He Might As Well Have Said, "If I Had Not Been Myself, All

This Might Have Been As I Have Imagined." He Had Acted naturally, And In

Accordance With His Defective Character; He Had Been Himself, And That

Was The Secret Of All His Troubles. He Sprang Up, Exclaiming In anger:

 

 

 

"Mother Made A Weak Fool Of Me, And I Was Willing To Be A Fool. Now We

Are Bothing Reaping Our Reward."

 

 

 

He Went Off Among The Cottages Looking For Employment, But Found Little

Encouragement. The People Were, As A General Thing, In humble

Circumstances, And Did Their Work Among Themselves. But At Last He

Found, Near The Ravine, A Small Dwelling Standing Quite Apart From Any

Others, Before Which A Load Of Wood Had Been Thrown. The Poor Woman

Whose Gateway It Obstructed was Anxious To Have It Sawed up And Carried

To Her Little Wood-Shed, But Was Disposed to Haggle About The Price.

 

 

 

"Give Me What You Please," Said Haldane, Throwing Off His Coat; "I Take

The Job;" And In a Few Moments The Youth Who Had Meditated indefinite

Heights Of "Gloomy Grandeur" Appeared--Save To The Initiated--As If He

Had Been Born A Wood-Sawyer.

 

 

 

He Was Driving His Saw In the Usual Strong, Dogged manner In which He

Performed such Tasks, When A Light Step Caused him To Look Up Suddenly,

And He Found Himself Almost Face To Face With Laura Romeyn. He Started

Violently; The Blood First Receded from His Face, And Then Rushed

Tumultuously Back. She, Too, Seemed much Surprised and Startled, And

Stopped hesitatingly, As If She Did Not Know What To Do. But Haldane Had

No Doubt As To His Course. He Felt That He Had No Right To Speak To Her,

And That She Might Regard It As An Insult If He Did; Therefore He Bent

Down To His Work Again With A Certain Proud Humility Which Laura, Even

In Her Perturbation, Did Not Fail To Notice.

 

 

 

In Her Diffidence And Confusion She Continued past Him A Few Steps, And,

Although He Expected nothing Less, The Fact That She Did Not Recognize

Or Speak To Him Cut To His Heart With A Deeper Pain Than He Had Yet

Suffered. With A Gesture Similar To That Which He Made When She Saw Him

On The Way To Prison, He Dashed his Hat Down Over His Eyes, And Drove

His Saw Through The Wood With Savage Energy.

 

 

 

She Looked at Him Doubtfully For A Moment, Then Yielding To Her Impulse,

Came To His Side. His First Intimation Of Her Presence Was The Scarcely

Heard Tones Of Her Voice Mingling With The Harsh Rasping Of The Saw.

 

 

 

"Will You Not Speak To Me, Mr. Haldane?" She Asked.

 

 

 

He Dropped his Saw, Stood Erect, Trembled slightly, But Did Not Answer

Or Even Raise His Eyes To Her Face. His Pain Was So Great He Was Not

Sure Of His Self-Control.

 

 

 

"Perhaps," She Added timidly, "You Do Not Wish Me To Speak To You."

 

 

 

"I Now Have No Right To Speak To You, Miss Romeyn," He Answered in a

Tone Which His Suppressed feelings Rendered constrained and Almost

Harsh.

 

 

 

"But I Feel Sorry For You," Said She Quickly, "And So Does My Aunt, And

She Greatly--"

 

 

 

"I Have Not Asked for Your Pity," Interrupted haldane, Growing More

Erect And Almost Haughty In his Bearing, Quite Oblivious For A Moment Of

His Shirt-Sleeves And Bucksaw. What Is More, He Made Laura Forget Them

Also, And His Manner Embarrassed her Greatly. She Was Naturally Gentle

And Timid, And She Deferred so Far To His Mood That One Would Have

Thought That She Was Seeking To Obtain Kindness Rather Than To Confer

It.

 

 

 

"You Misunderstand Me," Said She: "I Do Respect You For The Brave Effort

You Are Making. I Respect You For Doing This Work. You Cannot Think It

Strange, Though, That I Am Sorry For All That Has Happened. But I Did

Not Intend To Speak Of Myself At All--Of Mrs. Arnot Rather, And Your

Mother. They Do Not Know Where To Find You, And Wish To See And Hear

From You Very Much. Mrs. Arnot Has Letters To You From Your Mother."

 

 

 

"The Time Shall Come--It May Not Be So Very Far Distant, Miss

Romeyn--When It Will Be No Condescension On Your Part To Speak To Me,"

Said Haldane Loftily, Ignoring all That Related to Mrs. Arnot And His

Mother, Even If He Heard It.

 

 

 

"I Do Not Feel It To Be Condescension Now," Replied laura, With Almost

The Frank Simplicity Of A Child. "I Cannot Help Feeling Sympathy For

You, Even Though You Are Too Proud To Receive It." Then She Added, With

A Trace Of Dignity And Maidenly Pride, "Perhaps When You Have Realized

Your Hopes, And Have Become Rich Or Famous, I May Not Choose To Speak To

You. But It Is Not My Nature To Turn From Any One In misfortune, Much

Less Any One Whom I Have Known Well."

 

 

 

He Looked at Her Steadily For A Moment, And His Lip Quivered slightly

With His Softening Feeling.

 

 

 

"You Do Not Scorn Me, Then, Like The Rest Of The World," Said He In a

Low Tone.

 

 

 

Tears Stood In the Young Girl'S Eyes As She Answered, "Mr. Haldane, I Do

Feel Deeply For You; I Know You Have Done Very Wrong, But That Only

Makes You Suffer More."

 

 

 

"How Can You Overlook The Wrong Of My Action? Others Think I Am Not Fit

To Be Spoken To," He Asked, In a Still Lower Tone.

 

 

 

"I Do Not Overlook The Wrong," Said She, Gravely; "It Seems Strange And

Terrible To Me; And Yet I Do Feel Sorry For You, From The Depths Of My

Heart, And I Wish I Could Help You."

 

 

 

"You Have Helped me," Said He, Impetuously; "You Have Spoken The First

Truly Kind Word That Has Blessed me Since I Bade Mother Good-By. I Was

Beginning To Hate The Hard-Hearted animals Known As Men And Women. They

Trample Me Down Like A Herd Of Buffaloes."

 

 

 

"Won'T You Go With Me And See Mrs. Arnot? She Has Letters For You, And

She Greatly Wishes To See You."

 

 

 

He Shook His Head.

 

 

 

"Why Not?"

 

 

 

"I Have The Same As Made A Vow That I Will Never Approach Any One To

Whom I Held My Old Relations Until I Regain At Least As Good A Name And

Position As I Lost. I Little Thought We Should Meet Soon Again, If Ever,

And Still Less That You Would Speak To Me As You Have Done."

 

 

 

"I Had Been Taking Some Delicacies From Auntie To A Poor Sick Woman, And

Was Just Returning," Said Laura, Blushing Slightly. "I Think Your Vow Is

Very Wrong. Your Pride Brings Grief To Your Mother, And Pain To Your

Good Friend, Mrs. Arnot."

 

 

 

"I Cannot Help It," Said He, In a Manner That Was Gloomy And Almost

Sullen; "I Got Myself Into This Slough, And I Intend To Get Myself Out

Of It. I Shall Not Take Alms From Any One."

 

 

 

"A Mother Cannot Give Her Son Alms," Said Laura Simply.

 

 

 

"The First Words My Mother Said To Me When My Heart Was Breaking Were,

'You Have Disgraced me.' When I Have Accomplished that Which Will Honor

Her I Will Return."

 

 

 

"I Know From What Auntie Said That Your Mother Did Not Mean Any

Unkindness, And You Surely Know That You Have A Friend In mrs. Arnot."

 

 

 

"Mrs. Arnot _Has_ Been A True Friend, And No Small Part Of My Punishment

Is The Thought Of How I Have Requited her Kindness. I Reverence And

Honor Her More Than Any Other Woman, And I Did Not Know That You Were So

Much Like Her. You Both Seem Different From All The Rest Of The World.

But I Shall Take No Advantage Of Her Kindness Or Yours."

 

 

 

"Mr. Haldane," Said Laura Gravely, But With Rising Color, "I Am Not A

Woman. In years And Feelings I Am Scarcely More Than A Child. It May Not

Be Proper Or Conventional For Me To Stop And Talk So Long To You, But I

Have Acted from The Natural Impulse Of A Young Girl Brought Up In a

Secluded country Home. I Shall Return Thither Tomorrow, And I Am Glad I

Have Seen You Once More, For I Wished you To Know That I Did Feel Sorry

For You, And That I Hoped you Might Succeed. I Greatly Wish You Would

See Mrs. Arnot, Or Let Me Tell Her Where She Can See You, And Send To

You What She Wishes. She Has Heard Of You Once Or Twice, But Does Not

Know Where To Find You. Will You Not Let Me Tell Her?"

 

 

 

He Shook His Head Decidedly.

 

 

 

"Well, Then, Good-By," Said She Kindly, And Was About To Depart.

 

 

 

"Wait," He Said Hastily; "Will You Do Me One Small Favor?"

 

 

 

"Yes, If I Ought."

 

 

 

"This Is My Father'S Watch And Chain," He Continued, Taking Them Off.

"They Are Not Safe With Me In my Present Life. I Do Not Wish To Have It

In My Power To Take Them To A Pawnshop. I Would Rather Starve First, And

Yet I Would Rather Not Be Tempted. I Can'T Explain. You Cannot And

Should Not Know Anything about The World In which I Am Living. Please

Give These To Mrs. Arnot, And Ask Her To Keep Them Till I Come For Them;

Or She Can Send Them, With The Rest Of My Effects, To My Mother. I Have

Detained you Too Long Already. Whatever May Be My Fate, I Shall Always

Remember You With The Deepest Gratitude And Respect."

 

 

 

There Was Distress In laura'S Face As He Spoke; But She Took The Watch

And Chain Without A Word, For She Saw That He Was Fully Resolved upon

His Course.

 

 

 

"I Know That Mrs. Arnot Will Respect My Wish To Remain In obscurity

Until I Can Come With A Character Differing From That Which I Now Bear.

Your Life Would Be A Very Happy One, Miss Romeyn, If My Wishes Could

Make It So;" And The Wood-Sawyer Bowed his Farewell With The Grace And

Dignity Of A Gentleman, In spite Of His Coarse Laborer'S Garb. He Then

Resumed his Work, To The