Mr. M'fadden Sees Shadows In The Future
NIGHT has quickly drawn1 its curtain over the scene. Mr. M'Fadden lies on his bed, writhing2 under the pain of the poisoned wound. He left his preacher locked up for the night in a cold hovel, and he has secured the dangerous Bible, lest it lessen3 his value. Mr. M'Fadden, however, feels that now his earthly career is fast closing he must seek redemption. Hie has called in the aid of a physician, who tells him there is great danger, and little hope unless his case takes a favourable4 turn about midnight. The professional gentleman merely suggests this, but the suggestion conveys an awful warning. All the misdeeds of the past cloud before his eyes; they summon him to make his peace with his Maker5. He remembers what has been told him about the quality of mercy,--the duration of hope in redemption,--which he may secure by rendering6 justice to those he has wronged. But now conscience wars with him; he sees the fierce elements of retribution gathering7 their poisoned shafts8 about him; he quails9 lest their points pierce his heart; and he sees the God of right arraigning10 him at the bar of justice. There, that Dispenser of all Good sits in his glory and omnipotence11, listening while the oppressed recites his sufferings: the oppressed there meets him face to face, robed in that same garb12 of submission13 which he has inflicted14 upon him on earth. His fevered brain gives out strange warnings,--warnings in which he sees the angel of light unfolding the long list of his injustice15 to his fellow man, and an angry God passing the awful sentence. Writhing, turning, and contorting his face, his very soul burns with the agony of despair. He grasps the hand of his physician, who leans over his wounded body, and with eyes distorted and glassy, stares wildly and frantically16 round the room. Again, as if suffering inward torture, he springs from his pillow, utters fierce imprecations against the visions that surround him, grasps at them with his out-stretched fingers, motions his hand backward and forward, and breaks out into violent paroxysms of passion, as if struggling in the unyielding grasp of death.
That physical power which has so long borne him up in his daily pursuits yields to the wanderings of his haunted mind. He lays his hand upon the physician's shoulder as his struggles now subside17, looks mournfully in his face, and rather mutters than speaks: "Bring-bring-bring him here: I'll see him,--I must see him! I-I-I took away the book; there's what makes the sting worse! And when I close my eyes I see it burning fiercely-"
"Who shall I bring?" interrupts the physician, mildly, endeavouring to soothe18 his feelings by assuring him there is no danger, if he will but remain calm.
"Heaven is casting its thick vengeance19 round me; heaven is consuming me with the fire of my own heart! How can I be calm, and my past life vaulted20 with a glow of fire? The finger of Almighty21 God points to that deed I did today. I deprived a wretch23 of his only hope: that wretch can forgive me before heaven. Y-e-s, he can,--can speak for me,--can intercede24 for me; he can sign my repentance25, and save me from the just vengeance of heaven. His-his-his-"
"What?" the physician whispers, putting his ear to his mouth. "Be calm."
"Calm!" he mutters in return.
"Neither fear death nor be frightened at its shadows-"
"It's life, life, life I fear--not death!" he gurgles out. "Bring him to me; there is the Bible. Oh! how could I have robbed him of it! 'Twas our folly26--all folly--my folly!" Mr. M'Fadden had forgotten that the bustle27 of current life was no excuse for his folly; that it would be summed up against him in the day of trouble. He never for once thought that the Bible and its teachings were as dear to slave as master, and that its truths were equally consoling in the hour of death. In life it strengthens man's hopes; could it have been thus with M'Fadden before death placed its troubled sea before his eyes, how happy he would have died in the Lord!
The emphatic28 language, uttered in such supplicating29 tones, and so at variance30 with his habits of life, naturally excited the feelings of his physician, whose only solicitude31 had been evinced in his efforts to save life,--to heal the wound. Never had he watched at a patient's bed-side who had exhibited such convulsions of passion,--such fears of death.
Now struggling against a storm of convulsions, then subsiding32 into sluggish33 writhings, accompanied with low moans, indicating more mental disquietude than bodily pain. Again he is quiet; points to his coat.
The physician brings it forward and lays it upon the bed, where Mr. M'Fadden can put his hand upon it. "It is there--in there!" he says, turning on his left side, and with a solicitous34 look pointing to the pockets of his coat. The professional gentleman does not understand him.
He half raises himself on his pillow, but sinks back fatigued35, and faintly whispers, "Oh, take it to him--to him! Give him the comforter: bring him, poor fellow, to me, that his spirit may be my comforter!"
The physician understands, puts his hand into the pocket; draws forth36 the little boon37 companion. It is the Bible, book of books; its great truths have borne Harry38 through many trials,--he hopes it will be his shield and buckler to carry him through many more. Its associations are as dear to him as its teachings are consoling in the days of tribulation39. It is dear to him, because the promptings of a noble-hearted woman secretly entrusted40 it to his care, in violation41 of slavery's statutes42. Its well-worn pages bear testimony43 of the good service it has done. It was Franconia's gift-Franconia, whose tender emotions made her the friend of the slave-made in the kindness of woman's generous nature. The good example, when contrasted with the fierce tenor44 of slavery's fears, is worthy45 many followers46.
But men seldom profit by small examples, especially when great fears are paramount47.
The physician, holding the good book in his hand, enquires49 if Mr. M'Fadden would have him read from it? He has no answer to make, turns his feverish50 face from it, closes his eyes, and compressing his forehead with his hands, mutely shakes his head. A minute or two passes in silence; he has re-considered the point,--answers, no! He wants Harry brought to him, that he may acknowledge his crimes; that he may quench51 the fire of unhappiness burning within him. "How seldom we think of death while in life,--and how painful to see death while gathering together the dross52 of this worldly chaos53! Great, great, great is the reward of the good, and mighty22 is the hand of Omnipotence that, holding the record of our sins, warns us to prepare." As Mr. M'Fadden utters these words, a coloured woman enters the room to enquire48 if the patient wants nourishment54. She will wait at the door.
The physician looks at the patient; the patient shakes his head and whispers, "Only the boy. The boy I bought to-day." The Bible lays at his side on the sheet. He points to it, again whispering, "The boy I took it from!"
The boy, the preacher, Mr. M'Fadden's purchase, can read; she will know him by that; she must bring him from the shed, from his cold bed of earth. That crime of slavery man wastes his energies to make right, is wrong in the sight of heaven; our patient reads the glaring testimony as the demons55 of his morbid56 fancy haunt him with their damning terrors, their ghastly visages.
"Go, woman, bring him!" he whispers again.
Almost motionless the woman stands. She has seen the little book-she knows it, and her eyes wander over the inscription57 on the cover. A deep blush shadows her countenance58; she fixes her piercing black eyes upon it until they seem melting into sadness; with a delicacy59 and reserve at variance with her menial condition, she approaches the bed, lays her hand upon the book, and, while the physician's attention is attracted in another direction, closes its pages, and is about to depart.
"Can you tell which one he wants, girl?" enquires the physician, in a stern voice.
"His name, I think, is Harry; and they say the poor thing can preach; forgive me what I have done to him, oh Lord! It is the weakness of man grasping the things of this world, to leave behind for the world's nothingness," says Mr. M'Fadden, as the woman leaves the room giving an affirmative reply.
The presence of the Bible surprised the woman; she knew it as the one much used by Harry, on Marston's plantation60. It was Franconia's gift! The associations of the name touched the chord upon which hung the happiest incidents of her life. Retracing61 her steps down the stairs, she seeks mine host of the tavern62, makes known the demand, and receives the keys of this man-pen of our land of liberty. Lantern in hand, she soon reaches the door, unlocks it gently, as if she expects the approach of some strange object, and fears a sudden surprise.
There the poor dejected wretches63 lay; nothing but earth's surface for a bed,--no blanket to cover them. They have eaten their measure of corn, and are sleeping; they sleep while chivalry64 revels65! Harry has drawn his hat partly over his face, and made a pillow of the little bundle he carried under his arm.
Passing from one to the other, the woman approaches him, as if to see if she can recognise any familiar feature. She stoops over him, passes the light along his body, from head to foot, and from foot to head. "Can it be our Harry?" she mutters. "It can't be; master wouldn't sell him." Her eyes glare with anxiety as they wander up and down his sleeping figure.
"Harry,--Harry,--Harry! which is Harry?" she demands.
Scarcely has she lisped the words, when the sleeper66 starts to his feet, and sets his eyes on the woman with a stare of wonderment. His mind wanders-bewildered; is he back on the old plantation? That cannot be; they would not thus provide for him there. "Back at the old home! Oh, how glad I am: yes, my home is there, with good old master. My poor old woman; I've nothing for her, nothing," he says, extending his hand to the woman, and again, as his mind regains67 itself, their glances become mutual68; the sympathy of two old associates gushes70 forth from the purest of fountains,--the oppressed heart.
"Harry-oh, Harry! is it you?"
"Ellen! my good Ellen, my friend, and old master's friend!" is the simultaneous salutation.
"Sold you, too?" enquires Harry, embracing her with all the fervour of a father who has regained71 his long-lost child. She throws her arms about his neck, and clings to him, as he kisses, and kisses, and kisses her olive brow.
"My sale, Harry, was of little consequence; but why did they sell you? (Her emotions have swollen72 into tears). You must tell me all, to-night! You must tell me of my child, my Nicholas,--if master cares for him, and how he looks, grows, and acts. Oh, how my heart beats to have him at my side;--when, when will that day come! I would have him with me, even if sold for the purpose." Tears gush69 down her cheeks, as Harry, encircling her with his arm, whispers words of consolation73 in her ear.
"If we were always for this world, Ellen, our lot could not be borne. But heaven has a recompense, which awaits us in the world to come. Ellen!"-he holds her from him and looks intently in her face-"masters are not to blame for our sufferings,--the law is the sinner! Hope not, seek not for common justice, rights, privileges, or anything else while we are merchandise among men who, to please themselves, gamble with our souls and bodies. Take away that injustice, Ellen, and men who now plead our unprofitableness would hide their heads with shame. Make us men, and we will plead our own cause; we will show to the world that we are men; black men, who can be made men when they are not made merchandise." Ellen must tell him what has brought her here, first! He notices sad changes in her countenance, and feels anxious to listen to the recital74 of her troubles.
She cannot tell him now, and begs that he will not ask her, as the recollection of them fills her heart with sorrow. She discloses the object of her mission, will guide him to his new master, who, they say, is going to die, and feels very bad about it. He was a desperate man on his plantation, and has become the more contrite75 at death's call. "I hope God will forgive him!"
"He will!-He will! He is forgiving," interrupts Harry, hurriedly.
Ellen reconnoitres the wearied bodies of the others as they lie around. "Poor wretches! what can I do for them?" she says, holding the lamp over them. She can do but little for them, poor girl. The will is good, but the wherewith she hath not. Necessity is a hard master; none know it better than the slave woman. She will take Harry by the hand, and, retracing her steps, usher76 him into the presence of the wounded man. Pressing his hand as she opens the door, she bids him good night, and retires to her cabin. "Poor Harry!" she says, with a sigh.
The kind woman is Ellen Juvarna. She has passed another eventful stage of her eventful life. Mine host, good fellow, bought her of Mr. O'Brodereque, that's all!
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1
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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quails
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| 鹌鹑( quail的名词复数 )； 鹌鹑肉 | |
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arraigning
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| v.告发( arraign的现在分词 )；控告；传讯；指责 | |
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omnipotence
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| n.全能，万能，无限威力 | |
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garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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subside
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| vi.平静，平息；下沉，塌陷，沉降 | |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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intercede
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| vi.仲裁，说情 | |
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repentance
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| n.懊悔 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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supplicating
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| v.祈求，哀求，恳求( supplicate的现在分词 ) | |
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variance
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| n.矛盾，不同 | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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subsiding
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的现在分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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solicitous
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| adj.热切的，挂念的 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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boon
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| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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tribulation
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| n.苦难，灾难 | |
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entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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violation
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| n.违反(行为)，违背(行为)，侵犯 | |
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statutes
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| 成文法( statute的名词复数 )； 法令； 法规； 章程 | |
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testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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paramount
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| a.最重要的，最高权力的 | |
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enquire
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| v.打听，询问；调查，查问 | |
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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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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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quench
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| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
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dross
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| n.渣滓；无用之物 | |
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chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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nourishment
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| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
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demons
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| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
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morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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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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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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retracing
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| v.折回( retrace的现在分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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revels
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| n.作乐( revel的名词复数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉v.作乐( revel的第三人称单数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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regains
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| 复得( regain的第三人称单数 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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gushes
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| n.涌出，迸发( gush的名词复数 )v.喷，涌( gush的第三人称单数 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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contrite
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| adj.悔悟了的，后悔的，痛悔的 | |
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usher
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| n.带位员，招待员；vt.引导，护送；vi.做招待，担任引座员 | |
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