Who bears no trace of Passion's evil force!
Who shuns thy sting, O terrible Remorse!
Who would not cast
Half of this future from him, but to win
Wakeless oblivion for the wrong and sin
Of the sealed Past!
"What the deuce has sent you here?" said James Morgan, laying down his sixpence for a glass of spirit, to Walter Claremont who was just entering the bar-room, a place where he had never been seen before.
"Your good angel, I trust," replied Walter, as he looked calmly round on the bloated faces that lined the room. Then taking James' arm, he led him reluctantly out just as the tempting draught was within his reach.
Not a word was said as they walked on and on to a wood where they seated themselves. Walter was the first to break the silence. "Do you love Mary Kingley?"
James started at the directness of the question, and replied by asking another, "Why, what do you mean by that?"
"Because I have made a solemn pledge that makes it necessary to ask it. Oh James! Are you aware of the abyss into which you are so madly plunging, bringing ruin upon yourself, and blasting the happiness of others? That day you fell from the bridge and were taken up senseless, I passed by Mr. Kingley's on my return home, and Mary stood in the door pale as death. I intended to pass without speaking, as you know we are not much acquainted, and I felt that she would not care for the notice of any body at that time; but without any ceremony she asked me hurriedly if I had seen you, and how you were. I told her I had, and that you were not considered seriously injured. Then, her voice slightly trembling, she asked if I knew what made you fall. I hesitated a moment, and seeing by her changing color, the nervous motion of her lips, and the keen penetration of her eyes when she raised them, that she read the truth, and it was vain as well as wrong to conceal it from her, I resolved to answer—"
"Oh Walter! you did not tell her, did you? I would not have her know it for the world! Oh, my Mary! you will not cast me off! you must not!"
"Do you suppose I would deceive her? No! I should want any body to tell my sister, and you ought to have seen how like a hero she bore it. As white as marble, she was firm as a statue. You know some girls would have fainted, or gone into hysterics. I was standing on the door step, and she on the sill. She leaned against the side with her eyes fixed on that little bench under the great elm-tree where you used to sit together so much when you were children, as if beseeching it to try to save you. It was an awkward position for me I assure you. I did not know what to say next, and turned to leave. She beckoned me to follow her into the summer-house at the end of the yard. You know that stands against the side of the house which is not generally occupied, so that nobody could see or hear us. It was towards night when hex father was liable to come home any moment, and I knew by her constant lookout what she was afraid of, and saw where I could cut through the back yard if he did come, so he would not see me. I am almost afraid of that man."
"You needn't be. He'd be glad enough to have you go there, and to see Mary too. He hates me I know, and would hate me if I were as good as you are. Mean rascal, it's he that's made my father drink. I can remember when I was a little boy how he used to get him in there and treat him, and if it had not been for that, I might have been as steady as you are."
"There is no time now to talk about that, or make choice of epithets. Mary asked me if I did not think there was any possibility of making you reform. What to say I did not know. You know how many times I live talked with you, James, to no purpose. After a few minutes pause, I said, 'I shall do all in my power to reclaim him, but I cannot promise you success.' Her eyes brightened as she replied, 'Oh do! If anybody can influence him you can. Will you promise to try once more? I know you are one of James's confidential friends, or I should not have taken the freedom I have,' when her eyes dropped, and the color rushed into her cheeks,—how I pitied her! Modest and retiring as she is, I knew what a desperate struggle it must have cost to make such a confident of me, and then I am so much younger too, that I felt greatly honored to be entrusted with such a mission. My compassion and admiration were both so much excited that I forgot to answer until she looked up at me imploringly, and I could see the tears were fast coming into her eyes. 'I promise it solemnly,' said I, and immediately bade her good night, for I knew she must prefer to be left alone then. She is a prize, James. The next day I received a letter from her in which she disclosed her plans. She said that if you persisted in your present course every consideration of duty must prompt I.er to break the engagement existing between you. 'But,' said she, 'if you, can only induce him to reform, and he should refrain entirely from his old habits one year, I will see him again at the end of that time.'"
"Then she refuses to see me, she despises me. Oh Mary! Mary!"
"Why, James, you are beside youself, how can you say that in truth? How could you ask her to become your wife when your love of strong drink is greater than your love for her. Certainly you would not have her so degrade herself or be so false to all sense of self respect as to marry under such circumstances. Only think of the life of misery she must lead. Look at your father, and see what your mother has suffered. If he had been in that habit when they were married and she knew it, do you think she would ever have forgiven herself? It is bad enough when it cannot be helped."
"She might let me see her again. At any rate, I will see her."
"Oh James, do not be so heartless. Do have some regard for her feelings. You must know how tantalizing it would be to hold any farther intercourse with you, if she felt that it must be broken off sometime. I wish you could have seen her, you would not have any distrust of her then. She will never be any whiter when she lies in her coffin, her lips were as bloodless as they'll ever be, and yet she looked so trustful, so loving; I would go to the ends of the earth and live on bread and water, to serve such a being. Only think what a risk she runs to trust you if you will keep steady a year. There are ten chances to one that a man will fall back into his old habits when the restraint is gone, and he has gained the prize he sought. And now James, as I shudder to think of the possibility of such a thing, if I shall be in the least instrumental in effecting your union, do you pledge yourself here in the silence of this wood with none but God to witness, than you will never bring that reproach upon yourself, such an unfailing source of regret to me, and such life-long misery to your angel wife."
James buried his face in his hands and wept like a child. For a moment Walter feared that he had spoken too strongly, but recollecting that former interviews had proved fruitless, ho knew that it was only by a strong, decided course he could hope to wield any influence over him, and sought not to arrest the current of feeling in which alone lay the hope of salvation.
At length James rose abruptly, saying, "Walter, I shan't stay here any longer."
"Why, where are you going?"
"To the river!"
Walter shuddered as he stepped in front of him, and thought what might be his intention. Laying his hand on his arm, he said calmly, but firmly, "No James, you must not go yet, I have something more to say to you."
With that unconscious power Walter possessed over others, he swayed the impulsive James who sat down again, gentle and passive as a child.
"Can you not summon the resolution to say that you will never taste another drop?"
For the first time since they left the bar-room James mot the full glance of Walter's eye. He read in it something so confiding, so full of comfort, that the strong burst of passion was subdued, and he answered hopefully, "I will try if you will help me."
"I will, to the extent of my power; but it is your own will that must decide your fate."
"You, Walter, situated as you are, know nothing what it is for me to resist the temptations by which I am continually surrounded."
A slight tone of reproach curled his lips as he said these words which pained Walter, who felt the truth of the remark.
"I admit it, James, but that is no reason why I should not seek to save you. I have formed a plan for you to leave this place with all its associations, and beyond the reach of your present companions begin a new life. I know a place about six miles from here in a pleasant country town, where I think I can obtain a situation for you as clerk in a store, and will also see that you have a good boarding place, secure from the voice of temptation. An elderly gentleman, a friend of my mother's, lives there, who, I think, can be prevailed upon to take you into his family, for he is too kind-hearted to refuse any opportunity of doing good. His wife would be a real mother to you. Now, what do you say to that? I will go and see about it to-morrow, if you say so."
"Anything, I will do anything you advise, if it is to stand on my head."
Walter laughed at the seriousness with which this was spoken, and they quitted the wood. When they reached Mr. Morgan's door they parted.
The next day Walter succeeded in procuring the desired situation, and before the week was out James entered on his new duties. The first month seemed very long. He missed the excitement to which he had been accustomed, and most of all he missed Mary's society. The thought that he could not see her for a whole year distressed him greatly, but it helped to strengthen his resolution, so as to be permitted the privilege at the end of that time. When he thirsted for his cup, Walter's suggestion that he loved it more than her made him abhor it.
He was a young man of great promise and rare talent, of prepossessing appearance, which gained him numerous friends and acquaintances, some of whom were too fond of good cheer for his advantage. Easily influenced, as genial characters are apt to be, unless endowed with an uncommon share of firmness, he was led into a career of intemperance before he was aware.
At the time Mr. Kingley set up his business as liquor seller, Mr. Morgan was a respectable, well-todo man of the world, and if he did not have such a marked effect in society as some others, ho bid fair to leave his children an honest name. Mr. Kingley was poor, and many a favor Mr. Morgan had done him, being very generous-hearted, and he, in pretended friendship, would treat him. Then it was a practice of customary hospitality, but Mr. Kingley was too avaricious a man to be very free with any thing of his unless he expected to fill his coffers in return. As he grew rich on his ill-gotten gains, he began to despise his victims when they grew poor in consequence. His daughter Mary was his only child, and his affection for her was his only redeeming feature. To his wife he was basely lacking in kindness and refinement.
James and Mary were about the same age, and had always been playmates together until their affection ripened into love. Her father raised no objection so long as Mr. Morgan's fortunes were above his own, but, as they gradually sunk, and James became the dissipated son of a drunken father, he watched them with jealous eyes. Having doted upon Mary and indulged every wish, it was very hard to say anything to her, but he did not spare James. He threatened and annoyed him in every way possible, and hurried him on to ruin as much as lay in his power, knowing very well that Mary's good sense would be sufficient to guard her against such an imprudent marriage. He missed no opportunity, to exaggerate his faults in her hearing, which had the opposite effect of exciting her pity, and intensifying her love. She despised her father's business, and knew that whatever were James' failings, he was in a great measure responsible for them. She felt no inclination, or prompting of duty to cast him off, until she had made an effort at least to save him. She never doubted the sincerest love on his part, and that in her pure eyes was enough to warrant the hope of redemption. If that failed, surely no other earthly means could wrest him from the tempter's grasp.
Walter was four or five years younger than James, but, as he was always forming friendships with those older than himself, he was strongly attached to him as a schoolmate, and their intimacy continued as they grew into manhood.
Walter was so old for his years, that he assumed a rank in society, and was looked up to as a friend and counsellor much sooner than is usual for young men. His sincerity and earnestness won for him entire confidence so that Mary felt no hesitation in trusting him with this most momentous question of hers. His youth relieved her of much of the embarrassment she would have experienced in speaking so freely of what every woman wishes to keep to herself, to a young man of her own age. It was, as he said, a desperate struggle for her to do it, but what will not any of us do when a beloved one stands on the brink of a fearful precipice, down which he is to plunge from our gaze forever, unless some friendly hand intervenes?
Had Walter and James both moved in the same circle, Walter's influence would have been more steadily exerted over him, but as the democracy of childhood was merged into the exclusiveness which attends scholarship, James' pursuits led him into a different rank of associates. Again and again, when they occasionly met had Walter remonstrated with him for the society he kept, and James had as often promised amendment, but his promises were as often broken.