Home as Found by James Fenimore Cooper (easy novels to read .txt) 📖

and subsequently to the receipt of my brother-in-law's

letters, I wished to forget the existence of the family. I went to

Europe, and remained abroad seven years and as this was at a time

when the continent was closed against the English, I was not in a way

to hear any thing on the subject. On my return, my wife's aunt was

dead; the last of my wife's brothers was dead; her sister must then

have been Mrs. Ducie; no one mentioned the Warrenders, all traces of

whom were nearly lost in this country, and to me the subject was too

painful to be either sought or dwelt on. It is a curious fact, that,

in 1829, during our late visit to the old world, I ascended the Nile

with General Ducie for a travelling companion. We met at Alexandria,

and wont to the cataracts and returned in company, He knew me as John

Effingham, an American traveller of fortune, if of no particular

merit, and I knew him as an agreeable English general officer. He had

the reserve of an Englishman of rank, and seldom spoke of his family,

and it was only on our return, that I found he had letters from his

wife, Lady Dunluce; but little did I dream that Lady Dunluce was

Mabel Warrender. How often are we on the very verge of important

information, and yet live on in ignorance and obscurity! The Ducies

appear finally to have arrived at the opinion that the marriage was

legal, and that no reproach rests on the birth of Paul, by the

inquiries made concerning the eccentric John Assheton."

 

"They fancied, in common with my uncle Warrender, for a long time,

that the John Assheton whom you have mentioned, sir," said Paul, "was

my father. But. some accidental information, at a late day, convinced

them of their error, and then they naturally enough supposed that it

was the only other John Assheton that could be heard of, who passes,

and probably with sufficient reason, for a bachelor. This latter

gentleman I have myself always supposed to be my father, though he

has treated two or three letters I have written to him, with the

indifference with which one would be apt to treat the pretensions of

an impostor. Pride has prevented me from attempting to renew the

correspondence lately."

 

"It is John Assheton of Bristol, my mother's brother's son, as

inveterate a bachelor as is to be found in the Union" said John

Effingham, smiling, in spite of the grave subject and deep emotions

that had so lately been uppermost in his thoughts. "He must have

supposed your letters were an attempt at mystification on the part of

some of his jocular associates, and I am surprised that he thought it

necessary to answer them at all."

 

"He did answer but one, and that reply certainly had something of the

character you suggest, sir. I freely forgive him, now I understand

the truth, though his apparent contempt gave me many a bitter pang at

the time. I saw Mr. Assheton once in public, and observed him well,

for, strange as it is, I have been thought to resemble him."

 

"Why strange? Jack Assheton and myself have, or rather had a strong

family likeness to each other, and, though the thought is new to me,

I can now easily trace this resemblance to myself. It is rather an

Assheton than an Effingham look, though the latter is not wanting."

 

"These explanations are very clear and satisfactory," observed Mr.

Effingham, "and leave little doubt that Paul is the child of John

Effingham and Mildred Warrender; but they would be beyond all cavil,

were the infancy of the boy placed in an equally plain point of view,

and could the reasons be known why the Warrenders abandoned him to

the care of those who yielded him up to Mr. Powis."

 

"I see but little obscurity in that," returned John Effingham. "Paul

is unquestionably the child referred to in the papers left by poor

Monday, to the care of whose mother he was intrusted, until, in his

fourth year, she yielded him to Mr. Powis, to get rid of trouble and

expense, while she kept the annuity granted by Lady Dunluce. The

names appear in the concluding letters; and had we read the latter

through at first, we should earlier have arrived at, the same

conclusion, Could we find the man called Dowse, who appears to have

instigated the fraud, and who married Mrs. Monday, the whole thing

would be explained."

 

"Of this I am aware," said Paul, for he and John Effingham had

perused the remainder of the Monday papers together, after the

fainting fit of the latter, as soon as his strength would admit; "and

Captain Truck is now searching for an old passenger of his, who I

think will furnish the clue. Should we get this evidence, it would

settle all legal questions."

 

"Such questions will never be raised," said John Effingham, holding

out his hand affectionately to his son; "you possess the marriage

certificate given to your mother, and I avow myself to have been the

person therein styled John Assheton. This fact I have endorsed on the

back of the certificate; while here is another given to me in my

proper name, with the endorsement made by the clergyman that I passed

by another name, at the ceremony."

 

"Such a man, cousin Jack, was unworthy of his cloth!" said Eve with

energy.

 

"I do not think so, my child. He was innocent of the original

deception; this certificate was given after the death of my wife, and

might do good, whereas it could do no harm. The clergyman in question

is now a bishop, and is still living. He may give evidence if

necessary, to the legality of the marriage."

 

"And the clergyman by whom I was baptized is also alive," cried Paul,

"and has never lost sight of me He was, in part, in the confidence of

my mother' family, and even after I was adopted by Mr. Powis he kept

me in view as one of his little Christians as he termed me. It was no

less a person than Dr.----."

 

"This alone would make out the connection and identity," said Mr.

Effingham, "without the aid of the Monday witnesses. The whole

obscurity has arisen from John's change of name, and his ignorance of

the fact that his wife had a child. The Ducies appear to have had

plausible reasons, too, for distrusting the legality of the marriage;

but all is now clear, and as a large estate is concerned, we will

take care that no further obscurity shall rest over the affair."

 

"The part connected with the estate is already secured," said John

Effingham, looking at Eve with a smile. "An American can always make

a will, and one that contains but a single bequest is soon written.

Mine is executed, and Paul Effingham, my son by my marriage with

Mildred Warrender, and lately known in the United States' Navy as

Paul Powis, is duly declared my heir. This will suffice for all legal

purposes, though we shall have large draughts of gossip to swallow."

 

"Cousin Jack!"

 

"Daughter Eve!"

 

"Who has given cause for it?"

 

"He who commenced one of the most sacred of his earthly duties, with

an unjustifiable deception. The wisest way to meet it, will be to

make our avowals of the relationship as open as possible."

 

"I see no necessity, John, of entering into details," said Mr.

Effingham; "you were married young, and lost your wife within a year

of your marriage. She was a Miss Warrender, and the sister of Lady

Dunluce; Paul and Ducie are declared cousins, and the former proves

to be your son, of whose existence you were ignorant. No one will

presume to question any of us, and it really strikes me that all

rational people ought to be satisfied with this simple account of the

matter."

 

"Father!" exclaimed Eve, with her pretty little hands raised in the

attitude of surprise, "in what capital even, in what part of the

world, would such a naked account appease curiosity? Much less will

it suffice here, where every human being, gentle or simple, learned

or ignorant, refined or vulgar, fancies himself a constitutional

judge of all the acts of all his fellow-creatures?"

 

"We have at least the consolation of knowing that no revelations will

make the matter any worse, or any better," said Paul, "as the gossips

would tell their own tale, in every case, though its falsehood were

as apparent as the noon-day sun. A gossip is essentially a liar, and

truth is the last ingredient that is deemed necessary to his other

qualifications; indeed, a well authenticated fact is a death-blow to

a gossip. I hope, my dear sir, you will say no more than that I am

your son, a circumstance much too precious to me to be omitted."

 

John Effingham looked affectionately at the noble young man, whom he

had so long esteemed and admired; and the tears forced themselves to

his eyes, as he felt the supreme happiness that can alone gladden a

parent's heart.

 

Chapter XXVIII.

 

"For my part, I care not: I say little; but when the time comes,

there shall be smiles."--NYM.

 

Although Paul Effingham was right, and Eve Effingham was also right,

in their opinions of the art of gossiping, they both forgot one

qualifying circumstance, that, arising from different causes,

produces the same effect, equally in a capital and in a province. In

the first, marvels form a nine days' wonder from the hurry of events;

in the latter, from the hurry of talking. When it was announced in

Templeton that Mr. John Effingham had discovered a son in Mr. Powis,

as that son had conjectured, every thing but the truth was rumoured

and believed, in connection with the circumstance. Of course it

excited a good deal of a natural and justifiable curiosity and

surprise in the trained and intelligent, for John Effingham had

passed for a confirmed bachelor; but they were generally content to

suffer a family to have feelings and incidents that were not to be

paraded before a neighbourhood. Having some notions themselves of the

delicacy and sanctity of the domestic affections, they were willing

to respect the same sentiments in others. But these few excepted, the

village was in a tumult of surmises, reports, contradictions,

confirmations, rebutters, and sur-rebutters, for a fortnight. Several

village _elegants_, whose notions of life were obtained in the

valley in which they were born, and who had turned up their noses at

the quiet, reserved, gentleman-like Paul, because he did not happen

to suit their tastes, were disposed to resent his claim to be his

father's son, as if it were an injustice done to their rights; such

commentators on men and things uniformly bringing every thing down to

the standard of serf. Then the approaching marriages at the Wigwam

had to run the gauntlet, not only of village and county criticisms,

but that of the mighty Emporium itself, as it is the fashion to call

the confused and tasteless collection of flaring red brick houses,

marten-box churches, and colossal taverns, that stands on the island

of Manhattan; the discussion of marriages being a topic of never-

ending interest in that well regulated social organization, after the

subjects of dollars, lots, and wines, have been duly exhausted. Sir

George Templemore was transformed into the Honourable Lord George

Templemore, and Paul's relationship to Lady Dunluce was converted, as

usual, into his being the heir apparent of a Duchy of that name;

Eve's preference for a nobleman, as a matter of course, to the

_aristocratical_ tastes imbibed during a residence in foreign

countries; Eve, the intellectual, feminine, instructed Eve, whose

European associations, while they had taught her to prize the

refinement, grace, _retenue_, and tone of an advanced condition

of society, had also taught her to despise its mere covering and

glitter! But, as there is no protection against falsehood, so is

there no reasoning with ignorance.

 

A sacred few, at the head of whom were Mr. Steadfast Dodge and Mrs.

Widow-Bewitched Abbott, treated the matter as one of greater gravity,

and as possessing an engrossing interest for the entire community.

 

"For my part, Mr. Dodge," said Mrs. Abbott, in one of their frequent

conferences, about a fortnight after the _eclaircissement_ of

the last chapter, "I do not believe that Paul Powis is Paul Effingham

at all. You say that you knew him by the name of Blunt when he was a

younger man?"

 

"Certainly, ma'am. He passed universally by that name formerly, and

it may be considered as at least extraordinary that he should have

had so many aliases. The truth of the matter is, Mrs. Abbott, if

truth could be come at, which I always contend is very difficult in

the present state of the world--"

 

"You never said a juster thing, Mr. Dodge!" interrupted the lady,

feelings impetuous as hers seldom waiting for the completion of a

sentence, "I never can get hold of the truth of any thing now; you

may remember you