Tales and Novels Volume VIII Part 72

I open this to enclose the general's letter, which will explain every thing.

LETTER XCVII.

GENERAL B---- TO THE d.u.c.h.eSS OF ----.

MY DEAR MADAM, Yarmouth.

Your Grace, I find, is apprised of Lady Leonora L----'s journey hither: I fear that you rely upon my prudence for preventing her exposing herself to the danger of catching this dreadful fever. But that has been beyond my power. Her ladys.h.i.+p arrived late last night. I had foreseen the probability of her coming, but not the possibility of her coming so soon. I had taken no precautions, and she was in the house and upon the stairs in an instant. No entreaties, no arguments could stop her; I a.s.sured her that Mr. L----'s fever was p.r.o.nounced by all the physicians to be of the most infectious kind. Dr. ---- joined me in representing that she would expose her life to almost certain danger if she persisted in her determination to see her husband; but she pressed forward, regardless of all that could be said. To the physicians she made no answer; to me she replied, "You are Mr. L----'s friend, but I am his wife: you have not feared to hazard your life for him, and do you think I can hesitate?" I urged that there was no necessity for more than one person's running this hazard; and that since it had fallen to my lot to be with my friend when he was first taken ill--She interrupted me,--"Is not this taking a cruel advantage of me, general? You know that I, too, would have been with Mr. L----, if--if it had been possible." Her manner, her pathetic emphasis, and the force of her implied meaning, struck me so much, that I was silent, and suffered her to pa.s.s on; but again the idea of her danger rus.h.i.+ng upon my mind, I sprang before her to the door of Mr. L----'s apartment, and opposed her entrance. "Then, general," said she, calmly, "perhaps you mistake me--perhaps you have heard repeated some unguarded words of mine in the moment of indignation ... unjust ... you best know how unjust indignation!--and you infer from these that my affection for my husband is extinguished. I deserve this--but do not punish me too severely."

I still kept my hand upon the lock of the door, expostulating with Lady Leonora in your Grace's name, and in Mr. L----'s, a.s.suring her that if he were conscious of what was pa.s.sing, and able to speak, he would order me to prevent her seeing him in his present situation.

"And you, too, general!" said she, bursting into tears: "I thought you were my friend--would you prevent me from seeing him? And is not he conscious of what is pa.s.sing? And is not he able to speak? Sir, I must be admitted! You have done your duty--now let me do mine. Consider, my right is superior to yours. No power on earth should or can prevent a wife from seeing her husband when he is.... Dear, dear general!" said she, clasping her raised hands, and falling suddenly at my feet, "let me see him but for one minute, and I will be grateful to you for ever!"

I could resist no longer--I tremble for the consequences. I know your Grace sufficiently to be aware that you ought to be told the whole truth. I have but little hopes of my poor friend's life.

With much respect,

Your grace's faithful servant,

J.B.

LETTER XCVIII.

OLIVIA TO MR. L----.

Richmond.

A mist hung over my eyes, and "my ears with hollow murmurs rung," when the dreadful tidings of your alarming illness were announced by your cruel messenger. My dearest L----! why does inexorable destiny doom me to be absent from you at such a crisis? Oh! this fatal wound of mine!

It would, I fear, certainly open again if I were to travel. So this corporeal being must be imprisoned here, while my anxious soul, my viewless spirit, hovers near you, longing to minister each tender consolation, each nameless comfort that love alone can, with fond prescience and magic speed, summon round the couch of pain.

"O that I had the wings of a dove, that I might fly to you!" Why must I resign the sweetly-painful task of soothing you in the hour of sickness?

And shall others with officious zeal,

"Guess the faint wish, explain the asking eye?"

Alas it must be so--even were I to fly to him, my sensibility could not support the scene. To behold him stretched on the bed of disease--perhaps of death--would be agony past endurance. Let firmer nerves than Olivia's, and hearts more callous, a.s.sume the offices from which they shrink not. 'Tis the fate, the hard fate of all endued with exquisite sensibility, to be palsied by the excess of their feelings, and to become imbecile at the moment their exertions are most necessary.

Your too tenderly sympathizing

OLIVIA.

LETTER XCIX.

LEONORA TO HER MOTHER.

Yarmouth.

My husband is alive, and that is all. Never did I see, nor could I have conceived, such a change, and in so short a time! When I opened the door, his eyes turned upon me with unmeaning eagerness: he did not know me. The good general thought my voice might have some effect. I spoke, but could obtain no answer, no sign of intelligence. In vain I called upon him by every name that used to reach his heart. I kneeled beside him, and took one of his burning hands in mine. I kissed it, and suddenly he started up, exclaiming, "Olivia! Olivia!" with dreadful vehemence. In his delirium he raved about Olivia's stabbing herself, and called upon us to hold her arm, looking wildly towards the foot of the bed, as if the figure were actually before him. Then he sunk back, as if quite exhausted, and gave a deep sigh. Some of my tears fell upon his hand; he felt them before I perceived that they had fallen, and looked so earnestly in my face, that I was in hopes his recollection was returning; but he only said, "Olivia, I believe that you love me;" then sighed more deeply than before, drew his hand away from me, and, as well as I could distinguish, said something about Leonora.

But why should I give you the pain of hearing all these circ.u.mstances, my dear mother? It is enough to say, that he pa.s.sed a dreadful night.

This morning the physicians say, that if he pa.s.ses this night--if--my dear mother, what a terrible suspense!

LEONORA L----.

LETTER C.

LEONORA TO HER MOTHER.

Yarmouth.

Morning is at last come, and my husband is still alive: so there is yet hope. When I said I thought I could bear to survive him, how little I knew of myself, and how little, how very little I expected to be so soon tried! All evils are remediable but one, that one which I dare not name.

The physicians a.s.sure me that he is better. His friend, to whose judgment I trust more, thinks as they do. I know not what to believe.

I dread to flatter myself and to be disappointed, I will write again, dearest mother, to-morrow.

Your ever affectionate

LEONORA L----.

LETTER CI.

LEONORA TO HER MOTHER.

Wednesday.

No material change since yesterday, my dear mother. This morning, as I was searching for some medicine, I saw on the chimney-piece a note from Lady Olivia ----. It might have been there yesterday, and ever since my arrival, but I did not see it. At any other time it would have excited my indignation, but my mind is now too much weakened by sorrow. My fears for my husband's life absorb all other feelings.

LETTER CII.

OLIVIA TO MR. L----.