CHAPTER XXII. "WHERE is the heart that hath not bowed, And what must love be in a heart All passion's fiery depths concealing, Which has in its minutest part More than another's depth of feeling ?"-LANDON. THE island that served as the rendezvous of the tories and English, was about ten miles in length. To its extreme ends, in early days, it was thickly wooded; and although the time of which we speak is beyond the latitude of memory or even tradition, yet that such was the fact, is satisfactorily proven by the remains of stumps of trees upon the shore, and far out beyond the ebbing of the tide. Now, as well as the days of seventy-six, one half at least of this beach is only covered with sand and curious marine productions. From time beyond the remembrance of our oldest people, this northern part of the island has been the resort of parties in quest of health or pleasure. Here, in the spring and summer seasons, the gay and the sedate, the patient and the physician, the lover and the loved, for pleasure, refreshment, feasting, and courting, congregate together, many of all sexes, each to gratify his or her own peculiar appetite. Our Scarborough friends were still living with the good Zephaniah Bradford at Atlantic View. The old folks were cheerful and quite contented, Mary serious and reserved, Illnetta frolicsome by turns, Leander silent, though not from any other cause save his pledge to Alonzo, who was striving in vain to overcome his melancholy, an indisposition into which he was collapsing daily. In the midst of this state of affairs, the following conversation took place : 66 "Lon, Illnetta has made a proposition, and obtained the agreement of the whole house, (mother and our gracious hostess excepted,) to take an excursion to Hog Island. What say you, sir, to the idea?" "The time has been, my dear cousin, when I would have been glad at mention of such a trip. But now the thought only of pleasure fills my soul with pain.” "You are certainly in error, Alonzo, thus to continue in a mood so hurtful to yourself, and obnoxious: to your friends and relatives." Don't quarrel with me, Leander, I can not help it-your reproof only adds to my grief; for my sake be pleased not to preach any more." But you will go "Well, well, I am done now. with us? It may be conducive to your health of body and peace of mind. At least it can do no harm; while the probability is favorable to the supposition that it may recruit and revivify your desponding spirits." "It may," said Alonzo, half musingly; "but," he continued with more earnestness, "I fear that something will happen to one or the other of us, of a very unexpected, if not of a serious nature." "How long have you been a prophet, Lon?" said Leander, jesting. "I do not claim to be a foreteller of future events; but from my earliest youth I have been with but a few instances, strangely affected by dreams when any thing of importance is about to take place. You own that I am very mysterious sometimes." "Come, Lon, come; dismiss such idle thoughts. They only tend to deepen your gloom. Dreams are only the workings of a sickly or over-exercised mind. It is said that dogs dream, Lon. Do you think that they are subject to presentiments?" "I am not well enough acquainted with the faculties or instinct of animals, especially the canine race, which is decidedly the most sagacious of all others, to say; yet one thing I do know, that through dreams God has often conveyed his wishes and will to man; to wit: the prophetic vision of Jacob at Bethel, the hundreds of other cases in the Old Testament, and the saving of the life of our blessed Lord from the bloody hand of Herod, was accomplished. These all go to prove that there is something more in the mysterious visitations of midnight spirits, than an over-abundance of food for supper, (which doubtless is the cause of much dreaming-sometimes with open eyes,) or an insanity of the mind." "Those were times of signs and wonders, my dear cousin Lon," said Leander, manifesting a desire to maintain the argument, "not the present Gospel-enlightened age of the world. Then miracles were common, 'every-day' occurrences; now they have ceased to be performed, because there is no need of any supernatural evidences of God, now. Is it not just as reasonable that dreams should have become virtueless as that miracles should have become obsolete ?" "I see that it is useless to try to argue you into any thing that can raise an objection to your island trip; so, to please you rather than myself, I will give up to the majority, and yield to your proposition." "Thank you, cousin; then to-morrow is the day set (Providence providing) for the grand picnic. It will be your duty to take care of Mary, and I will take care of you know whom." Laughing aloud, he turned away, without hearing the deep sigh that burst from Alonzo. "Yes," said he, "I will take care of Mary, poor Mary; for she, like myself, feels desolate and lonely. Hers is the home of friends-yet strangers-mine the home of acquaintances and friendsbut not relatives. She, perhaps, has a dear one, ay, a loved one lost to all but memory; if So, her case coïncides, alas! too well with mine. She is criticised (though in pure friendship) for her meekness; I am lectured by those who have never had occasion to feel the pangs which lacerate my own bosom. Yes, Mary, fellow-partner in distress, sister in affliction, I will be an escort for thee to-morrow." The anticipated day broke transparent in the east. The hue of the morning sky, according to Virgil's proverb, bespoke a fair forthcoming day, with a gentle southern gale. The old folks were up betimes, packing the provisions, and busily making preparations for the younger ones, who, all but Alonzo, were wrapped in the pleasant slumbers of the morning. He had been walking his room an hour even before the first streaks of daylight could have been seen creeping up the ocean-bound horizon. His constant friend, Leander, lay snoring in the same bed from which he himself had arisen. Nervously he paced the chamber to and fro; his hand ever and anon was pressed against his forehead, and his eyes were cast upon the floor. Passing the bed, he looked upon Leander, and exclaimed: "Thou, untroubled, canst sleep sweetly, careless and unmolested. How peaceful are thy slumbers, O Leander! while I can't steal one hour of calm repose. If I but close my eyes for one short minute, my soul must be harassed with frightful visions, and the pictured sufferings of one, whom fate denies me the power of assisting. Ah! Mahalinda, Mahalinda, I would that I had never seen thee "Ah! Alonzo, Alonzo, 'quæ te dementia cepit !"" muttered Leander, just awake enough to hear the last words of his friend. Happily for both, Alonzo collected presence of mind enough to turn the subject, by remarking: |