Ishmael; Or, In the Depths Part 32

"I was going to say," continued the man, "that I have my hands to work with--"

"For your large family of sisters and brothers--"

"And for you and that poor orphan boy as well! And I'm willing to do it for you all! And we really must be married right away, Hannah! I must have a lawful right to protect you against the slights as you'll be sure to receive after what's happened, if you don't have a husband to take care of you."

He paused and waited for her reply; but as she did not speak, he began again:

"Come, Hannah, my dear, what do you say to our being married o' Sunday?"

She did not answer, and he continued:

"I think as we better had get tied together arter morning service! And then, you know, I'll take you and the bit of a baby home long o' me, Hannah. And I'll be a loving husband to you, my girl; and I'll be a father to the little lad with as good a will as ever I was to my own orphan brothers and sisters. And I'll break every bone in the skin of any man that looks askance at him, too! Don't you fear for yourself or the child. The country side knows me for a peaceable-disposed man; but it had rather not provoke me for all that, because it knows when I have a just cause of quarrel, I don't leave my work half done! Come, Hannah, what do you say, my dear? Shall it be o' Sunday? You won't answer me?

What, crying, my girl, crying! what's that for?"

The tears were streaming from Hannah's eyes. She took up her ap.r.o.n and buried her face in its folds.

"Now what's all that about?" continued Reuben, in distress; then suddenly brightening up, he said: "Oh, I know now! You're thinking of Nancy and Peggy! Don't be afeard, Hannah! They won't do, nor say, nor even so much as look anything to hurt your feelings! and they had better not, if they know which side their bread is b.u.t.tered! I am the master of my own house, I reckon, poor as it is! And my wife will be the mistress; and my sisters must keep their proper places! Come, Hannah! come, my darling, what do you say to me?"' he whispered, putting his arm over her shoulders, while he tried to draw the ap.r.o.n from her face.

She dropped her ap.r.o.n, lifted her face, looked at him through her falling tears, and answered:

"This is what I have to say to you, dear, dearest, best loved Reuben! I feel your goodness in the very depths of my heart; I thank you with all my soul; I will love you--you only--in silence and in solitude all my life; I will pray for you daily and nightly; but--" She stopped and sobbed.

"But--" said Reuben breathlessly.

"I will never carry myself and my dishonor under your honest roof."

Reuben caught his suspended breath with a sharp gasp and gazed in blank dismay upon the sobbing woman for a few minutes, and then he said:

"Hannah--oh, my Lord! Hannah, you never mean to say that you won't marry me?"

"I mean just that, Reuben."

"Oh, Hannah, what have I done to offend you? I never meant to do it! I don't even know how I've done it! I'm such a blundering animal! But tell me what it is, and I will beg your pardon!"

"It is nothing, you good, true heart! nothing! But you have two sisters--"

"There, I knew it! It's Nancy and Peggy! They've been doing something to hurt your feelings! Well, Hannah, they shall come here and ask your forgiveness, or else they shall leave my home and go to earn their living in somebody's kitchen! I've been a father to them gals; but I won't suffer them to insult my own dear Hannah!" burst forth Reuben.

"Dear Reuben, you are totally mistaken! Your sisters no more than yourself have ever given me the least cause of offense. They could not, dear Reuben! They must be good girls, being your sisters."

"Well, if neither I nor my sisters have hurt your feelings, Hannah, what in the name of sense did you mean by saying--I hate even to repeat the words--that you won't marry me?"

"Reuben, reproach has fallen upon my name--undeserved, indeed, but not the less severe. You have young, unmarried sisters, with nothing but their good names to take them through the world. For their sakes, dear, you must not marry me and my reproach!"

"Is that all you mean, Hannah?"

"All."

"Then I will marry you!"

"Reuben, you must give me up."

"I won't, I say! So there, now."

"Dear Reuben, I value your affection more than I do anything in this world except duty; but I cannot permit you to sacrifice yourself to me,"

said Hannah, struggling hard to repress the sobs that were again rising in her bosom.

"Hannah, I begin to think you want to drive me crazy or break my heart!

What sacrifice would it be for me to marry you and adopt that poor child? The only sacrifice I can think of would be to give you up! But I won't do it! no! I won't for nyther man nor mortal! You promised to marry me, Hannah, and I won't free your promise! but I will keep you to it, and marry you, if I die for it!" grimly persisted Reuben Gray.

And before she could reply they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Come in!" said Hannah, expecting to see Mrs. Jones or some other humble neighbor.

The door was pushed gently open, and a woman of exceeding beauty stood upon the threshold.

Her slender but elegant form was clothed in the deepest mourning; her pale, delicate face was shaded by the blackest ringlets; her large, dark eyes were fixed with the saddest interest upon the face of Hannah Worth.

Hannah arose in great surprise to meet her.

"You are Miss Worth, I suppose?" said the young stranger.

"Yes, miss; what is your will with me?"

"I am the Countess of Hurstmonceux. Will you let me rest here a little while?" she asked, with a sweet smile.

Hannah gazed at the speaker in the utmost astonishment, forgetting to answer her question, or offer a seat, or even to shut the door, through which the wind was blowing fiercely.

What! was this beautiful pale young creature the Countess of Hurstmonceux, the rival of Nora, the wife of Herman Brudenell, the "bad, artful woman" who had entrapped the young Oxonian into a discreditable marriage? Impossible!

While Hannah stood thus dumbfounded before the visitor, Reuben came forward with rude courtesy, closed the door, placed a chair before the fire, and invited the lady to be seated.

The countess, with a gentle bow of thanks, pa.s.sed on, sank into a chair, and let her sable furs slip from her shoulders in a drift around her feet.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE FORSAKEN WIFE.

He prayeth best who loveth most All things both great and small, For the good G.o.d who loveth us, He made and loveth all.

--_Coleridge_.

To account for the strange visit of the countess to Hannah Worth we must change the scene to Brudenell Hall.

From the time of her sudden arrival at her husband's house, every hour had been fraught with suffering to Berenice.