A Scene Of Many Lights
WE must leave Marston wending his way for the old plantation1, and pass to another phase of this complicated affair. In doing this, we must leave the reader to draw from his own imagination much that must have transpired2 previous to the present incidents.
The Rovero family-old and distinguished-had struggled against the misfortunes brought upon them by their son Lorenzo. Deeply involved, they had allowed their difficulties to go on till they had found themselves living by the favour of courtesy and indulgence. Lorenzo and Franconia were only children; and since the departure of the former the latter had been the idol3 of their indulgence. She was, as we have before said, delicate, sensitive, endowed with generous impulses, and admired for her gentleness, grace, and vivacity4. To these she added firmness, and, when once resolved upon any object, could not be moved from her purpose. Nor was she-as is the popular fallacy of the South-susceptible to the influence of wealth. Her love and tenderness soared above it; she prized wealth less than moral worth. But she could not appease5 the pride of her parents with her feelings. They, labouring under the influence of their reduced fortunes, had favoured and insisted upon the advances of the very wealthy Colonel M'Carstrow, a rice-planter, who had a few years before inherited a large estate. The colonel is a sturdy specimen6 of the Southern gentleman, which combines a singular mixture of qualities, some of which are represented by a love of good living, good drinking, good horse-racing, good gambling7, and fast company. He lives on the fat of the land, because the fat of the land was made for him to enjoy. He has no particular objection to anybody in the world, providing they believe in slavery, and live according to his notions of a gentleman. His soul's delight is faro, which he would not exchange for all the religion in the world; he has strong doubts about the good of religion, which, he says, should be boxed up with modern morality.
Laying these things aside, however, he is anything but what would have been properly selected as a partner for Franconia; and, while she is only eighteen, he has turned the corner of his forty-third year. In a word, his manners are unmodelled, his feelings coarse, his associations of the worst kind; nor is he adapted to make the happiness of domestic life lasting9. He is one of those persons so often met with, whose affections-if they may be supposed to have any-are held in a sort of compromise between an incitement10 to love, and their natural inclination11 to revel12 in voluptuous13 pleasures. The two being antagonistic14 at times, the latter is sure to be the stronger, and not unfrequently carries its victim into dissolute extremes. Riches, however, will always weigh heavy in the scale; their possession sways,--the charm of gold is precious and powerful. And, too, the colonel had another attraction-very much esteemed15 among slave-dealers and owners--he had a military title, though no one knew how he came by it.
Franconia must be the affianced bride of the supposed wealthy Colonel M'Carstrow; so say her parents, who feel they are being crushed out by misfortune. It is their desire; and, however repulsive17 it may be to Franconia's feelings, she must accept the man: she must forget his years, his habits, his associations, for the wealth he can bring to the relief of the family.
To add éclat to the event, it is arranged that the nuptial18 ceremony shall take place in the spacious19 old mansion20 of General P--, in the city. General P--is a distant relation of the Rovero family. His mansion is one of those noble old edifices21, met here and there in the South--especially in South Carolina-which strongly mark the grandeur22 of their ancient occupants. It is a massive pile of marble, of mixed style of Grecian and Doric architecture, with three stories divided by projecting trellised arbours, and ornamented23 with fluted24 columns surmounted25 with ingeniously-worked and sculptured capitals, set off with grotesque26 figures. The front is ornamented with tablets of bas-relief, variegated27 and chaste28. These are bordered with scroll-work, chases of flowers, graces, and historical designs. Around the lower story, palisades and curvatures project here and there between the divisions, forming bowers29 shaded by vines and sweet-scented blossoms. These are diffusing31 their fragrance32 through the spacious halls and corridors beneath. The stately old pile wears a romantic appearance; but it has grown brown with decay, and stands in dumb testimony33 of that taste and feeling which prevailed among its British founders34. The garden in which it stands, once rich with the choicest flowers of every clime, now presents an area overgrown with rank weeds, decaying hedges, dilapidated walks, and sickly shrubbery. The hand that once nurtured35 this pretty scene of buds and blossoms with so much care has passed away. Dull inertness36 now hangs its lifeless festoons over the whole, from the vaulted38 hall to the iron railing enclosing the whole.
The day for consummating39 the nuptial ceremony has arrived; many years have passed since the old mansion witnessed such a scene. The gay, wealthy, and intelligent of the little fashionable world will be here. The spell of loneliness in which the old walls have so long slept will be broken. Sparkling jewels, bland40 smiles, the rich decorations of former years, are to again enhance the scene. Exhausted41 nature is to shake off its monotony, to be enlivened with the happiness of a seemingly happy assemblage. A lovely bride is to be showered with smiles, congratulations, tokens of love. Southern gallantry will doff43 its cares, put on its smiling face. Whatever may smoulder beneath, pleasure and gaiety will adorn44 the surface.
Franconia sits in her spacious chamber45. She is arrayed in flowing négligé; a pensive46 smile invades her countenance47; she supports her head on her left hand, the jewels on her tiny fingers sparkling though her hair. Everything round her bears evidence of comfort and luxury; the gentle breeze, as it sweeps through the window to fan her blushing cheek, is impregnated with sweetest odours. She contemplates49 the meeting of him who is to be the partner of her life; can she reconcile it? Nay50, there is something forcing itself against her will. Her bridesmaids,--young, gay, and accomplished,--gather around her. The fierce conflict raging in her bosom51 discloses itself; the attempt to cheer her up, under the impression that it arises from want of vigour52 to buoy53 up her sensitive system, fails. Again she seems labouring under excitement.
"Franconia!" exclaims one, taking her by the hand, "is not the time approaching?"
"Time always approaches," she speaks: her mind has been wandering, picturing the gloomy spectacle that presents itself in Clotilda's cell. She moves her right hand slowly across her brow, casts an enquiring54 glance around the room, then at those beside her, and changes her position in the chair. "The time to have your toilet prepared-the servants await you," is the reply. Franconia gathers strength, sits erect55 in her chair, seems to have just resolved upon something. A servant hastens into her presence bearing a delicately-enveloped note. She breaks the seal, reads it and re-reads it, holds it carelessly in her hand for a minute, then puts it in her bosom. There is something important in the contents, something she must keep secret. It is from Maxwell. Her friend evinced some surprise, while waiting a reply as she read the letter.
"No! not yet," she says, rising from her chair and sallying across the room. "That which is forced upon me-ah! I cannot love him. To me there is no loving wealth. Money may shelter; but it never moves hearts to love truly. How I have struggled against it!" Again she resumes her chair, weeps. Her tears gush56 from the parent fountain-woman's heart. "My noble uncle in trouble, my dear brother gone; yes! to where, and for what, I dare not think; and yet it has preyed57 upon me through the struggle of pride against love. My father may soon follow; but I am to be consigned59 to the arms of one whom it would be folly60 to say I respect."
Her friend, Miss Alice Latel, reminds her that it were well not to let such melancholy61 wanderings trouble her. She suggests that the colonel, being rich, will fill the place of father as well as husband; that she will be surrounded by the pleasures which wealth only can bring, and in this world what more can be desired?
"Such fathers seldom make affectionate husbands; nor do I want the father without the husband; his wealth would not make me respect him." Franconia becomes excited, giving rapid utterance62 to her language. "Can I suppress my melancholy-can I enjoy such pleasure, and my dear Clotilda in a prison, looking through those galling63 gratings? Can I be happy when the anguish64 of despair pierces deep into her heart? No! oh, no! Never, while I think of her, can I summon resolution to put on a bridal robe. Nay! I will not put them on without her. I will not dissemble joy while she sinks in her prison solitude65!"
"Can you mean that-at this hour?" enquires66 Miss Alice, looking upon her with anxiety pictured in her face. One gives the other a look of surprise. Miss Alice must needs call older counsel.
"Yes!" replies Franconia, more calm; "even at this hour! It is never too late to serve our sisters. Could I smile-could I seem happy, and so many things to contemplate48? We cannot disguise them now; we cannot smother67 scandal with a silken mantle68. Clotilda must be with me. Negro as she is by law, she is no less dear to me. Nor can I yield to those feelings so prominent in southern breasts,--I cannot disclaim69 her rights, leave her the mere70 chattel71 subject of brute72 force, and then ask forgiveness of heaven!" This declaration, made in a positive tone, at once disclosed her resolution. We need not tell the reader with what surprise it took the household; nor, when she as suddenly went into a violent paroxysm of hysterics, the alarm it spread.
The quiet of the mansion has changed for uproar73 and confusion. Servants are running here and there, getting in each other's way, blocking the passages, and making the confusion more intense. Colonel M'Carstrow is sent for, reaches the mansion in great consternation74, expects to find Franconia a corpse75, for the negro messenger told him such a crooked76 story, and seemed so frightened, that he can't make anything straight of it-except that there is something very alarming.
She has been carried to one of the ante-chambers, reclines on a couch of softest tapestry77, a physician at one side, and Alice, bathing her temples with aromatic78 liquid, on the other. She presents a ravishing picture of delicacy79, modesty80, and simplicity81,--of all that is calmly beautiful in woman. "I can scarcely account for it; but, she's coming to," says the man of medicine, looking on mechanically. Her white bosom swells82 gently, like a newly-waked zephyr83 playing among virgin84 leaves; while her eyes, like melancholy stars, glimmer85 with the lustre86 of her soul. "Ah me!" she sighs, raising her hand over her head and resting it upon the cushion, as her auburn hair floats, calm and beautiful, down her pearly shoulder.
The colonel touches her hand; and, as if it had been too rudely, she draws it to her side, then places it upon her bosom. Again raising her eyes till they meet his, she blushes. It is the blush of innocence87, that brightens beneath the spirit of calm resolution. She extends her hand again, slowly, and accepts his. "You will gratify me-will you not?" she mutters, attempting to gain a recumbent position. They raise her as she intimates a desire; she seems herself again.
"Whatever your wish may be, you have but to intimate it," replies the colonel, kissing her hand.
"Then, I want Clotilda. Go, bring her to me; she only can wait on me; and I am fond of her. With her I shall be well soon; she will dress me. Uncle will be happy, and we shall all be happy."
"But," the colonel interrupts, suddenly, "where is she to be found?"
"In the prison. You'll find her there!" There is little time to lose,--a carriage is ordered, the colonel drives to the prison, and there finds the object of Franconia's trouble. She, the two children at her side, sits in a cell seven by five feet; the strong grasp of slave power fears itself, its tyranny glares forth88 in the emaciated89 appearance of its female victim. The cell is lighted through a small aperture90 in the door, which hangs with heavy bolts and bars, as if torturing the innocent served the power of injustice91. The prison-keeper led the way through a narrow passage between stone walls. His tap on the door startles her; she moves from her position, where she had been seated on a coarse blanket. It is all they (the hospitable92 southern world, with its generous laws) can afford her; she makes it a bed for three. A people less boastful of hospitality may give her more. She holds a prayer-book in her hand, and motions to the children as they crouch93 at her feet.
"Come, girl! somebody's here to see you," says the keeper, looking in at the aperture, as the sickly stench escapes from the dark cavern-like place.
Nervously94, the poor victim approaches, lays her trembling hand on the grating, gives a doubting glance at the stranger, seems surprised, anxious to know the purport95 of his mission.
"Am I wanted?" she enquires eagerly, as if fearing some rude dealer16 has come-perhaps to examine her person, that he may be the better able to judge of her market value.
Notwithstanding the coldness of M'Carstrow's nature, his feelings are moved by the womanly appearance of the wench, as he calls her, when addressing the warden97. There is something in the means by which so fair a creature is reduced to merchandise he cannot altogether reconcile. Were it not for what habit and education can do, it would be repulsive to nature in its crudest state. But it is according to law, that inhuman98 law which is tolerated in a free country.
"I want you to go with me, and you will see your young missis," says M'Carstrow, shrugging his shoulders. He is half inclined to let his better feelings give way to sympathy. But custom and commerce forbid it; they carry off the spoil, just as the sagacious pumpkin99 philosopher of England admits slavery a great evil, while delivering an essay for the purpose of ridiculing100 emancipation101.
M'Carstrow soon changes his feelings,--addresses himself to business. "Are you in here for sale?" he enquires, attempting to whistle an air, and preserve an unaffected appearance.
The question touches a tender chord of her feelings; her bosom swells with emotions of grief; he has wounded that sensitive chord upon which the knowledge of her degradation102 hangs. She draws a handkerchief from her pocket, wipes the tear that glistens104 in her eye, clasps Annette in her arms-while Nicholas, frightened, hangs by the skirts of her dress,--buries her face in her bosom, retires a few steps, and again seats herself on the blanket.
"The question is pending105. If I'm right about it-and I believe I'm generally so on such cases-it comes on before the next session, fall term," says the gaoler, turning to M'Carstrow with a look of wonderful importance. The gaoler, who, with his keys, lets loose the anxieties of men, continues his learned remarks. "Notice has been served how she's free. But that kind o' twisting things to make slave property free never amounts to much, especially when a man gets where they say Marston is! Anthony Romescos has been quizzing about, and it don't take much to make such things property when he's round." The man of keys again looks very wise, runs his hand deep into the pocket of his coat, and says something about this being a great country.
"How much do you reckon her worth, my friend?" enquires M'Carstrow, exchanging a significant glance.
"Well, now you've got me. It's a point of judgment107, you see. The article's rather questionable-been spoiled. There's a doubt about such property when you put it up, except a gentleman wants it; and then, I reckon, it'll bring a smart price. There's this to be considered, I reckon, though they haven't set a price on her yet, she's excellent good looking; and the young un's a perfect cherry. It'll bring a big heap one of these days."
"We won't mind that, just now, gaoler," M'Carstrow says, very complacently108; "you'll let me have her tonight, and I'll return her safe in the morning."
"No, no," interposes Clotilda, mistaking M'Carstrow's object. She crouches109 down on the blanket, as if shrinking from a deadly assault: "let me remain, even in my cell." She draws the children to her side.
"Don't mistake me, my girl: I am a friend. I want you for Franconia Rovero. She is fond of you, you know."
"Franconia!" she exclaims with joy, starting to her feet at the sound of the name. "I do know her, dear Franconia! I know her, I love her, she loves me-I wish she was my mother. But she is to be the angel of my freedom-" Here she suddenly stopped, as if she had betrayed something.
"We must lose no time," M'Carstrow says, informing her that Franconia is that night to be his bride, and cannot be happy without seeing her.
"Bride! and cannot prepare without me," mutters the woman, seeming to doubt the reality of his statement. A thought flashes in her mind: "Franconia has not forgotten me; I will go and be Franconia's friend." And with a child-like simplicity she takes Annette by the hand, as if they were inseparable. "Can't Nicholas go, too?" she inquires.
"You must leave the child," is the cool reply. M'Carstrow attempts to draw the heavy bolt that fastens the door.
"Not so fast, if you please," the warden speaks. "I cannot permit her to leave without an order from the sheriff." He puts his hand against the door.
"She will surely be returned in the morning; I'm good for a hundred such pieces of property."
"Can't help that," interrupts the gaoler, coolly.
"But, there's my honour!"
"An article gaolers better not deal in. It may be very good commodity in some kinds of business-don't pay in ours; and then, when this kind of property is in question, it won't do to show a favour beyond the rule."
M'Carstrow is in a sad dilemma111. He must relieve himself through a problem of law, which, at this late hour, brings matters to a singular point. He believes Franconia suffers from a nervous affection, as the doctors call it, and has fixed112 her mind upon the only object of relief. He had made no preparation for such a critical event; but there is no postponing113 the ceremony,--no depriving her of the indulgence. Not a moment is to be lost: he sets off, post-haste, for the sheriff's office. That functionary114 is well known for his crude method of executing business; to ask a favour of him would be like asking the sea to give up its dead. He is cold, methodical, unmoveable; very much opposed to anything having the appearance of an innovation upon his square rules of business.
M'Carstrow finds him in just the mood to interpose all the frigid115 peculiarities116 of his incomprehensible nature. The colonel has known him by reputation; he knows him now through a different medium. After listening to M'Carstrow's request, and comporting117 himself with all imaginable dignity, he runs his fingers through his hair, looks at M'Carstrow vacantly, and well nigh rouses his temper. M'Carstrow feels, as southern gentlemen are wont118 to feel, that his position and title are enough to ensure courtesy and a quick response. The man of writs119 and summonses feels quite sure that the pomp of his office is sufficient to offset120 all other distinctions.
"Whar' d'ye say the gal42 was,--in my gaol106?" the sheriff inquires, with solemn earnestness, and drawling his words measuredly, as if the whole affair was quite within his line of business. The sheriff has the opportunity of making a nice little thing of it; the object to be released will serve the profits of the profession. "Gittin' that gal out yander ain't an easy thing now, 'taint121! It'll cost ye 'bout8 twenty dollars, sartin," he adds, turning over the leaves of his big book, and running his finger down a scale of names.
"I don't care if it costs a hundred! Give me an order for her release!" M'Carstrow begins to understand Mr. Sheriff's composition, and putting his hand into his pocket, draws forth a dwenty-dollar gold piece, throws it upon the table. The effect is electric: it smooths down the surface of Mr. Sheriff's nature,--brings out the disposition122 to accommodate. The Sheriff's politeness now taxes M'Carstrow's power to reciprocate123.
"Now, ye see, my friend," says Mr. Sheriff, in a quaint124 tone, "there's three fi fas on that critter. Hold a minute!" He must needs take a better glance; he runs his fingers over the page again, mutters to himself, and then breaks out into a half-musical, half-undefinable humming. "It's a snarled-up affair, the whole on't. T'll take a plaguy cunnin' lawyer to take the shine out." The sheriff pushes the piece of coin nearer the inkstand, into the centre of the table. "I feel all over like accommodatin' ye," he deigns125 to say; "but then t'll be so pestky crooked gettin' the thing straight." He hesitates before the wonderful difficulty,--he can't see his way straight through it. "Three fi fas! I believe I'm correct; there's one principal one, however."
"I pledge my honour for her return in the morning; and she shall be all shined up with a new dress. Her presence is imperatively126 necessary to-night," M'Carstrow remarks, becoming impatient.
"Two fi fas!-well, the first look looked like three. But, the principal one out of the way,--no matter." Mr. Sheriff becomes more and more enlightened on the unenlightened difficulties of the law. He remarks, touching127 M'Carstrow on the arm, with great seriousness of countenance, "I sees how the knot's tied. Ye know, my functions are turned t' most everything; and it makes a body see through a thing just as straight as--. Pest on't! Ye see, it's mighty128 likely property,--don't strike such every day. That gal 'll bring a big tick in the market-"
"Excuse me, my dear sir," M'Carstrow suddenly interrupts. "Understand me, if you please. I want her for nothing that you contemplate,--nothing, I pledge you my honour as a southern gentleman!"
"'Ah,--bless me! Well, but there's nothin' in that. I see! I see! I see!" Mr. Sheriff brightens up, his very soul seems to expand with legal tenacity129. "Well, ye see, there's a question of property raised about the gal, and her young 'un, too-nice young 'un 'tis; but it's mighty easy tellin' whose it is. About the law matter, though, you must get the consent of all the plaintiff's attorneys,--that's no small job. Lawyers are devilish slippery, rough a feller amazingly, once in a while; chance if ye don't have to get the critter valued by a survey. Graspum, though's ollers on hand, is first best good at that: can say her top price while ye'd say seven," says Mr. Sheriff, maintaining his wise dignity, as he reminds M'Carstrow that his name is Cur, commonly called Mr. Cur, sheriff of the county. It must not be inferred that Mr. Cur has any of the canine130 qualities about him. The hour for the ceremony is close at hand. M'Carstrow, satisfied that rules of law are very arbitrary things in the hands of officials-that such property is difficult to get out of the meshes131 of legal technicality-that honour is neither marketable or pledgeable in such cases, must move quickly: he seeks the very conscientious132 attorneys, gets them together, pleads the necessity of the case: a convention is arranged, Graspum will value the property-as a weigher and gauger133 of human flesh. This done, M'Carstrow signs a bond in the sum of fifteen hundred dollars, making himself responsible for the property. The instrument contains a provision, that should any unforeseen disaster befall it, the question of property will remain subject to the decision of Court. Upon these conditions, M'Carstrow procures134 an order for her release. He is careful, however, that nothing herein set forth shall affect the suit already instituted.
Love is an exhilarating medicine, moving and quickening the hearts of old and young. M'Carstrow felt its influence sensibly, as he hurried back to the prison-excited by the near approach of the ceremony-with the all-important order. Bolts, bars, and malarious135 walls, yield to it the pining captive whose presence will soothe136 Franconia's feelings.
Clotilda was no less elated at the hope of changing her prison for the presence of her young mistress; and yet, the previous summons had nearly unnerved her. She lingers at the grating, waiting M'Carstrow's return. Time seems to linger, until her feelings are nearly overwhelmed in suspense137. Again, there is a mystery in the mission of the stranger; she almost doubts his sincerity138. It may be one of those plots, so often laid by slave-traders, to separate her from her child,--perhaps to run her where all hope of regaining139 freedom will be for ever lost. One after another did these things recur140 to her mind, only to make the burden of her troubles more painful.
Her child has eaten its crust, fallen into a deep sleep, and, its little hands resting clasped on its bosom, lies calmly upon the coarse blanket. She gazes upon it, as a mother only can gaze. There is beauty in that sweet face; it is not valued for its loveliness, its tenderness, its purity. How cursed that it is to be the prime object of her disgrace! Thus contemplating141, M'Carstrow appears at the outer gate, is admitted into the prison, reaches the inner grating, is received by the warden, who smiles generously. "I'm as glad as anything! Hope you had a good time with his honour, Mr. Cur?" he says, holding the big key in his hand, and leading the way into the office. He takes his seat at a table, commences preparing the big book. "Here is the entry," he says, with a smile of satisfaction. "We'll soon straighten the thing now." Puts out his hand for the order which M'Carstrow has been holding. "That's just the little thing," he says, reading it word by word carefully, and concluding with the remark that he has had a deal of trouble with it. M'Carstrow places some pieces of silver in his hand; they turn the man of keys into a subservient142 creature. He hastens to the cell, M'Carstrow following,--draws the heavy bolts,--bids the prisoner come forth. "Yes, come, girl; I've had a tough time to get you out of that place: it holds its prey58 like lawyers' seals," rejoins M'Carstrow.
"Not without my child?" she inquires quickly. She stoops down and kisses it. "My daughter,--my sweet child!" she mutters.
"Till to-morrow. You must leave her for to-night."
"If I must!" Again she kisses the child, adding, as she smoothed her hand over Annette, and parted her hair, "Mother will return soon." There was something so touching in the word mother, spoken while leaning over a sleeping babe. Clotilda reaches the door, having kept her eyes upon the child as she left her behind. A tremor143 comes over her,--she reluctantly passes the threshold of the narrow arch; but she breathes the fresh air of heaven,--feels as if her life had been renewed. A mother's thoughts, a mother's anxieties, a mother's love, veil her countenance. She turns to take a last look as the cold door closes upon the dearest object of her life. How it grates upon its hinges! her hopes seem for ever extinguished.
The law is thus far satisfied-the legal gentlemen are satisfied, the warden is not the least generous; and Mr. Cur feels that, while the job was a very nice one, he has not transcended144 one jot145 of his importance. Such is highly gratifying to all parties. Clotilda is hurried into a carriage, driven at a rapid rate, and soon arrives at the mansion. Here she is ushered146 into a chamber, arrayed in a new dress, and conducted into the presence of Franconia. The meeting may be more easily imagined than described. Their congratulations were warm, affectionate, touching. Clotilda kisses Franconia's hand again and again; Franconia, in turn, lays her hand upon Clotilda's shoulder, and, with a look of commiseration147, sets her eyes intently upon her, as if she detects in her countenance those features she cannot disown. She requests to be left alone with Clotilda for a short time. Her friends withdraw. She discloses the difficulties into which the family have suddenly fallen, the plan of escape she has arranged, the hopes she entertains of her regaining her freedom. "Public opinion and the state of our difficulties prompted this course,--I prefer it to any other: follow my directions,--Maxwell has everything prepared, and to-night will carry you off upon the broad blue ocean of liberty. Enjoy that liberty, Clotilda,--be a woman,--follow the path God has strewn for your happiness; above all, let freedom be rewarded with your virtue148, your example," says Franconia, as she again places her arm round Clotilda's neck.
"And leave my child, Franconia?" the other inquires, looking up imploringly149 in Franconia's face.
"To me," is the quick response. "I will be her guardian150, her mother. Get you beyond the grasp of slavery-get beyond its contaminating breath, and I will be Annette's mother. When you are safely there, when you can breathe the free air of liberty, write me, and she shall meet you. Leave her to me; think of her only in my care, and in my trust she will be happy. Meet Maxwell-he is your friend-at the centre corridor; he will be there as soon as the ceremony commences; he will have a pass from me; he will be your guide!" She overcomes Clotilda's doubts, reasons away her pleadings for her child, gives her a letter and small miniature (they are to be kept until she reaches her destination of freedom), and commences preparing for the ceremony.
Night arrives, the old mansion brightens and resounds151 with the bustle152 of preparation. Servants are moving about in great confusion. Everything is in full dress; "yellow fellows," immersed in trim black coats, nicely-cut pantaloons, white vests and gloves, shirt-collars of extraordinary dimensions, and hair curiously153 crimped, are standing96 at their places along the halls, ready for reception. Another class, equally well dressed, are running to and fro through the corridors in the despatch154 of business. Old mammas have a new shine on their faces, their best "go to church" fixings on their backs. Younger members of the same property species are gaudily155 attired-some in silk, some in missus's slightly worn cashmere. The colour of their faces grades from the purest ebony to the palest olive. A curious philosophy may be drawn156 from the mixture: it contrasts strangely with the flash and dazzle of their fantastic dresses, their large circular ear-rings, their curiously-tied bandanas, the large bow points of which lay crossed on the tufts of their crimpy hair. The whole scene has an air of bewitching strangeness. In another part of the mansion we find the small figures of the estate, all agog157, toddling158 and doddling, with faces polished like black-balled shoes; they are as piquant159 and interesting as their own admiration160 of the dress master has provided them for the occasion.
The darkness increases as the night advances. The arbour leading from the great gate to the vaulted hall in the base of the mansion is hung with lanterns of grotesque patterns, emitting light and shade as variegated as the hues161 of the rainbow. The trees and shrubbery in the arena162, hung with fantastic lanterns, enliven the picture-make it grand and imposing163. It presents a fairy-like perspective, with spectre lights hung here and there, their mellow164 glows reflecting softly upon the luxuriant foliage165.
Entering the vaulted hall, its floor of antique tiles; frescoed166 walls with well-executed mythological167 designs, jetting lights flickering168 and dazzling through its arches, we find ourselves amidst splendour unsurpassed in our land. At the termination of the great hall a massive flight of spiral steps, of Egyptian marble, ascends169 to the fourth story, forming a balcony at each, where ottomans are placed, and from which a fine view of the curvature presents itself, from whence those who have ascended170 may descry171 those ascending172. On the second story is a corridor, with moulded juttings and fretwork overhead; these are hung with festoons of jasmines and other delicate flowers, extending its whole length, and lighted by globular lamps, the prismatic ornaments173 of which shed their soft glows on the fixtures174 beneath. They invest it with the appearance of a bower30 decorated with buds and blossoms. From this, on the right, a spacious arched door, surmounted by a semi-circle of stained glass containing devices of the Muses175 and other allegorical figures, leads into an immense parlour, having a centre arch hung with heavy folds of maroon176 coloured velvet177 overspread with lace. Look where you will, the picture of former wealth and taste presents itself. Around the walls hang costly178 paintings, by celebrated179 Italian masters; some are portraits of the sovereigns of England, from that of Elizabeth to George the Third. Brilliant lights jet forth from massive chandeliers and girandoles, lighting180 up the long line of chaste furniture beneath. The floor is spread with softest Turkey carpet; groups of figures in marble, skilfully181 executed, form a curiously arranged fire-place; Britannia's crest182 surmounting183 the whole. At each end of the room stand chastely184 designed pieces of statuary of heroes and heroines of past ages. Lounges, ottomans, reclines, and couches, elaborately carved and upholstered, stand here and there in all their antiqueness and grandeur. Pier-glasses, massive tables inlaid with mosaic185 and pearl, are arranged along the sides, and overhung with flowing tapestry that falls carelessly from the large Doric windows. Over these windows are massive cornices, richly designed and gilded186. Quiet grandeur pervades187 the whole; even the fairy-like dais that has been raised for the nuptial ceremony rests upon four pieces of statuary, and is covered with crimson188 velvet set with sparkling crystals. And while this spectacle presents but the vanity of our nature, grand but not lasting, the sweet breath of summer is wafting189 its balmy odours to refresh and give life to its lifeless luxury.
The gay cortège begins to assemble; the halls fill with guests; the beauty, grace, and intelligence of this little fashionable world, arrayed in its very best, will be here with its best face. Sparkling diamonds and other precious stones, dazzling, will enhance the gorgeous display. And yet, how much of folly's littleness does it all present! All this costly drapery-all this show of worldly voluptuousness-all this tempest of gaiety, is but the product of pain and sorrow. The cheek that blushes in the gay circle, that fair form born to revel in luxury, would not blush nor shrink to see a naked wretch190 driven with the lash110. Yea! we have said it was the product of pain and sorrow; it is the force of oppression wringing191 from ignorance and degradation the very dregs of its life. Men say, what of that?-do we not live in a great good land of liberty?
The young affianced,--dressed in a flowing skirt of white satin, with richly embroidered192 train; a neat bodice of the same material, with incisions193 of lace tipped with brilliants; sleeves tapering194 into neat rufflets of lace clasped upon the wrist with diamond bracelets195, a stomacher of chastely worked lace with brilliants in the centre, relieved by two rows of small unpolished pearls,--is ushered into the parlour, followed by groomsmen and bridesmaids as chastely dressed.
There is a striking contrast between the youth and delicacy of Franconia, blushing modestly and in her calmness suppressing that inert37 repugnance196 working in her mind, and the brusqueness of M'Carstrow, who assumes the free and easy dash, hoping thereby197 to lessen198 his years in the picture of himself. Clotilda, for the last time, has arranged Franconia's hair, which lies in simple braids across her polished brows, and folds upon the back, where it is secured and set off with a garland of wild flowers. The hand that laid it there, that arranged it so neatly199, will never arrange it again. As a last token of affection for her young mistress, Clotilda has plucked a new-blown chiponique, white with crystal dew, and surrounded it with tiny buds and orange blossoms: this, Franconia holds in her left hand, the lace to which it is attached falling like mist to the ground.
Thus arrayed, they appear at the altar: the good man of modest cloth takes his place, the ceremony commences; and as it proceeds, and the solemn words fall upon her ear, "Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder," she raises her eyes upwards200, with a look of melancholy, as tears, like pearls, glisten103 in her soft expressive201 eyes. Her heart is moved with deeper emotion than this display of southern galaxy202 can produce. The combination of circumstances that has brought her to the altar, the decline of fortune, perhaps disgrace, worked upon her mind. It is that which has consigned her to the arms of one she cannot love, whose feelings and associations she never can respect. Was she to be the ransom203?-was she to atone204 for the loss of family fortune, family pride, family inconsistency? kept forcing itself upon her. There was no gladness in it-no happiness. And there was the captive, the victim of foul205 slavery-so foul that hell yearns206 for its abettors-whose deliverance she prayed for with her earnest soul. She knew the oppressor's grasp-she had, with womanly pride, come forward to relieve the wronged, and she had become sensible of the ties binding207 her to Clotilda. Unlike too many of her sex, she did not suppress her natural affections; she could not see only the slave in a disowned sister; she acknowledged the relationship, and hastened to free her, to send her beyond slavery's grasp, into the glad embrace of freedom.
The ceremony ends; the smiles and congratulations of friends, as they gather round Franconia, shower upon her; she receives them coldly, her heart has no love for them, it throbs208 with anxiety for that slave whose liberty she has planned, and for whose safety she invokes209 the all-protecting hand of heaven.
收听单词发音 |
1
plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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transpired
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| （事实，秘密等）被人知道( transpire的过去式和过去分词 )； 泄露； 显露； 发生 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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appease
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| v.安抚，缓和，平息，满足 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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incitement
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| 激励； 刺激； 煽动； 激励物 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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antagonistic
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| adj.敌对的 | |
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esteemed
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| adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
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dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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nuptial
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| adj.婚姻的，婚礼的 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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edifices
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| n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fluted
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| a.有凹槽的 | |
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surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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variegated
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| adj.斑驳的，杂色的 | |
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chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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bowers
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| n.（女子的）卧室( bower的名词复数 )；船首锚；阴凉处；鞠躬的人 | |
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bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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diffusing
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| （使光）模糊，漫射，漫散( diffuse的现在分词 )； （使）扩散； （使）弥漫； （使）传播 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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founders
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| n.创始人( founder的名词复数 ) | |
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nurtured
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| 养育( nurture的过去式和过去分词 )； 培育； 滋长； 助长 | |
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inertness
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| n.不活泼，没有生气；惰性；惯量 | |
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inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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consummating
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| v.使结束( consummate的现在分词 )；使完美；完婚；（婚礼后的）圆房 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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42
gal
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| n.姑娘，少女 | |
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doff
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| v.脱，丢弃，废除 | |
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adorn
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| vt.使美化，装饰 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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contemplates
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的第三人称单数 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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50
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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51
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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52
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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53
buoy
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| n.浮标；救生圈；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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enquiring
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| a.爱打听的，显得好奇的 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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56
gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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57
preyed
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| v.掠食( prey的过去式和过去分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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59
consigned
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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galling
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| adj.难堪的,使烦恼的,使焦躁的 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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enquires
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| 打听( enquire的第三人称单数 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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67
smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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disclaim
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| v.放弃权利，拒绝承认 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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chattel
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| n.动产；奴隶 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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aromatic
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| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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82
swells
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| 增强( swell的第三人称单数 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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zephyr
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| n.和风，微风 | |
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virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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emaciated
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| adj.衰弱的，消瘦的 | |
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aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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purport
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| n.意义，要旨，大要；v.意味著，做为...要旨，要领是... | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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97
warden
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| n.监察员，监狱长，看守人，监护人 | |
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98
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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99
pumpkin
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| n.南瓜 | |
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100
ridiculing
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| v.嘲笑，嘲弄，奚落( ridicule的现在分词 ) | |
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101
emancipation
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| n.（从束缚、支配下）解放 | |
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102
degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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103
glisten
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| vi.（光洁或湿润表面等）闪闪发光，闪闪发亮 | |
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104
glistens
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的第三人称单数 ) | |
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105
pending
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| prep.直到，等待…期间；adj.待定的；迫近的 | |
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106
gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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107
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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108
complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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109
crouches
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| n.蹲着的姿势( crouch的名词复数 )v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的第三人称单数 ) | |
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110
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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111
dilemma
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| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
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112
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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113
postponing
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| v.延期，推迟( postpone的现在分词 ) | |
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114
functionary
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| n.官员；公职人员 | |
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115
frigid
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| adj.寒冷的，凛冽的；冷淡的；拘禁的 | |
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116
peculiarities
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| n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
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117
comporting
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| v.表现( comport的现在分词 ) | |
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118
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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119
writs
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| n.书面命令，令状( writ的名词复数 ) | |
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120
offset
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| n.分支，补偿；v.抵消，补偿 | |
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121
taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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122
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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123
reciprocate
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| v.往复运动；互换；回报，酬答 | |
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124
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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125
deigns
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的第三人称单数 ) | |
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126
imperatively
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| adv.命令式地 | |
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127
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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128
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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129
tenacity
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| n.坚韧 | |
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130
canine
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| adj.犬的，犬科的 | |
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131
meshes
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| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
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132
conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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133
gauger
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| n.收税官 | |
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134
procures
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的第三人称单数 )；拉皮条 | |
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135
malarious
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| （患）疟疾的，（有）瘴气的 | |
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136
soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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137
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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138
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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139
regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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140
recur
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| vi.复发，重现，再发生 | |
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141
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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142
subservient
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| adj.卑屈的，阿谀的 | |
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143
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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144
transcended
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| 超出或超越（经验、信念、描写能力等）的范围( transcend的过去式和过去分词 )； 优于或胜过… | |
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145
jot
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| n.少量；vi.草草记下；vt.匆匆写下 | |
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146
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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147
commiseration
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| n.怜悯，同情 | |
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148
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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149
imploringly
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| adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
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150
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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151
resounds
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的第三人称单数 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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152
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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153
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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154
despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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155
gaudily
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| adv.俗丽地 | |
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156
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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157
agog
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| adj.兴奋的，有强烈兴趣的； adv.渴望地 | |
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158
toddling
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| v.（幼儿等）东倒西歪地走( toddle的现在分词 )；蹒跚行走；溜达；散步 | |
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159
piquant
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| adj.辛辣的，开胃的，令人兴奋的 | |
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160
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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161
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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162
arena
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| n.竞技场，运动场所；竞争场所，舞台 | |
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163
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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164
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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165
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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166
frescoed
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| 壁画( fresco的名词复数 )； 温壁画技法，湿壁画 | |
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167
mythological
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| adj.神话的 | |
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168
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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169
ascends
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的第三人称单数 ) | |
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170
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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171
descry
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| v.远远看到；发现；责备 | |
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172
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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173
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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174
fixtures
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| （房屋等的）固定装置( fixture的名词复数 )； 如（浴盆、抽水马桶）； 固定在某位置的人或物； （定期定点举行的）体育活动 | |
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175
muses
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的第三人称单数 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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176
maroon
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| v.困住，使（人）处于孤独无助之境；n.逃亡黑奴；孤立的人；酱紫色，褐红色；adj.酱紫色的，褐红色的 | |
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177
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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178
costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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179
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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180
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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181
skilfully
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| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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182
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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183
surmounting
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| 战胜( surmount的现在分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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184
chastely
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| adv.贞洁地，清高地，纯正地 | |
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185
mosaic
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| n./adj.镶嵌细工的，镶嵌工艺品的，嵌花式的 | |
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186
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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187
pervades
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的第三人称单数 ) | |
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188
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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189
wafting
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的现在分词 ) | |
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190
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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191
wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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192
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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193
incisions
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| n.切开，切口( incision的名词复数 ) | |
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194
tapering
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| adj.尖端细的 | |
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195
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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196
repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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197
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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198
lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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199
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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200
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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201
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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202
galaxy
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| n.星系；银河系；一群(杰出或著名的人物) | |
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203
ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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204
atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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205
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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206
yearns
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的第三人称单数 ) | |
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207
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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208
throbs
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| 体内的跳动( throb的名词复数 ) | |
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209
invokes
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| v.援引( invoke的第三人称单数 )；行使（权利等）；祈求救助；恳求 | |
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