CHAPTER X.

THESE deficiencies I anxiously anticipated ; but there was another evil, upon which I had not calculated, that was still Hearer and more overwhelming. The mode of life in which I was now engaged, so different from any thing to which I had been accustomed, excessive fatigue, together with the occasional heat of the weather, the uneasiness of my mind, and the sleeplessness of my nights, all combined to throw me into a fever, which, though it did not last long, had raged so furiously during the period of its continuance, as to leave me in a state of the most complete debility. While the disorder was upon me, I was sensible of my danger ; and, as the brilliant and consolatory prospects of life seemed for ever closed upon me, I at first regarded my approach- ing dissolution with complacency, and longed to be released from a series of woes, in which I had been originally in- volved by my own folly. This frame of mind however was of no great duration ; the more nearly I contemplated the idea of separation from those I loved, the smaller was my resignation. I was unwilling to quit those dear objects by which I still held to this mortal scene ; I shrunk with aversion from that barrier which separates us from all that is new, mysterious, and strange. Another train of ideas succeeded this, and I began to despise myself for my impa-
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tience and cowardice. It was by my vices that my family was involved in a long train of misfortunes ; could I shrink from partaking what I had not feared to create? The greater were the adversities for which they were reserved, the more ought I to desire to suffer with them. I had already committed the evil ; in what remained, it was rea- sonable to suppose I should prove their benefactor and not their foe. It was incumbent on me to soothe and to animate them, to enrich their minds with cheerfulness and courage, and to set before them an example of philosophy and patience. By my faculties of industry I was their principal hope ; and, whatever we might suffer combined, it was probable their sufferings would be infinitely greater, if deprived of my assistance. These reflections gave me energy ; and it seemed as if the resolute predilection I had conceived for life contributed much to my recovery.
One thing which strongly confirmed the change my mind underwent in this respect, was a conversation that I overheard at a time when I was supposed to be completely in a state of insensibility, but when, though I was too much reduced to give almost any tokens of life, my faculties of hearing and understanding what passed around me were entire. Charles came up to my bedside, laid his hand upon mine as if to feel the state of the skin, and, with a handkerchief that was near, wiped away the moisture that bedewed my face. He had been fitted for many nurse-like offices by the unwearied attention he had exerted towards me in the paroxysm of my insanity. Having finished his task, he withdrew from the bed, and burst into tears. His mother came up to him, drew him to the furthest part of the room, and in a low voice began the conversation.
" Do, my dear boy, go down stairs, and get yourself something to eat. You see, your papa is quiet now."
" I am afraid that will not last long; and then he will be so restless, and toss about so, it is dreadful to see him."
" I will watch, Charles, and let you know."
" Indeed, mamma, I cannot eat now. I will by and by."
•' You must try to eat, Charles, or else you will make yourself quite ill. If you were ill too, it would be more than I could support."
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"• I will not be ill, mamma. I assure you I will not; But, besides that I have no stomach, I cannot bear to eat when there is hardly enough for my sisters."
" Eat, boy. Do not trouble yourself about that. We shall get more when that is gone. God is good, and will take care of us."
" I know that God is good; but for all that, one must not expect to have every thing one wishes. Though God is good, there are dreadful misfortunes in the world, and I suppose we shall have our share of them."
" Come, Charles, though you are but a boy, you are the best boy in the world. You are now almost my only comfort ; but you will not be able to comfort me if you do not take care of yourself."
" Dear mamma ! — Do you know, mamma, I heard that naughty man below stairs count up last night how much rent you owed him for, and swear you should not stay any longer if you did not pay him. If I were a little bigger, I would talk to him so that he should not dare to insult us in our distress. But, not being big enough, I opened the door, and went into the room, and begged him for God's sake not to add to your distress. And, though he is so ugly, I took hold of his hand, and kissed it. But it felt like iron, which put me in mind of his iron heart, and I cried ready to burst with mortification. Ha did not say hardly a word."
" He must be paid, Charles : he shall be paid."
to the bishop's gardens, and spoke to the gardener ? I asked him, if he had heard that my papa was ill, and he said he had. He said, too, he was very sorry, and wanted to know what hand we made of it for want of the wages. I told him, we were sadly off, and the man of the house had just been affronting me about his rent. But, said I, can- not you give me something to do, to weed or to rake ? I can dig a little too, and scatter seed. He asked, if I knew weeds from flowers. Oh, that I do ! said I. Well then, said he, there is not much you can do ; but you are a good boy, and I will put you on the bishop's list. But now, mamma, I have not the heart to work, till I see whether papa will get well again."
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While poor Charles told his artless tale, Marguerite wept over him, and kissed him again and again. She called him the best child in the world, and said that, if I were hut so fortunate as to recover, with such a husband and such a son,, she should yet be the happiest of women.
" Oh, my poor father ! " exclaimed Charles. " Ever since the great hail-storm, I have every hour loved him better than before. I thought that was impossible, but he is so gentle, so kind, so good-humoured, and so patient ! I loved him when he was harsh, and when he was out of his mind; but nothing so well then as I have done since. People that are kind and smile always do one good ; but nobody's smiles are like my father's. It makes me cry; with joy sometimes, when I do but think of them. Pray, papa," added he, coming up to the bedside, and whisper- ing, yet with a hurried and passionate accent, " get well ! Do but get well, and we will be so happy ! Never was there a family so happy or so loving as we will be I"
While he spoke thus, I endeavoured to put out my hand, but I could not ; I endeavoured to smile, but I was unable : my heart was in a feeble, yet soothing, tranquillity. The accents of love I had* heard, dwelt upon my memory. They had talked of distress, but the sentiment of love was upper- most in my recollection. I was too weak of frame to suffer intellectual distress; no accents but those which carried balm to my spirit, seemed capable of resting upon my. ear. From this hour I regularly grew better, and, as I reco- vered, seemed to feel more and more vividly how envi- able it was to be the head of a loving and harmonious family.
My recovery however was exceedingly slow, and it was several weeks before I had so far recruited my strength as to be capable of my ordinary occupations. In the mean time the pecuniary difficulties to which we were exposed hourly increased, and the cheerful but insignificant labours of Charles could contribute little to the support of a family. The melancholy nature of our situation might perhaps have been expected to prevent the restoration of my health. At first however it had not that effect. The debilitated state of my animal functions led me, by a sort of irresisU
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ible instinct, to reject ideas and reflections which I shou then have been unable to endure. I saw the anxiety and affection of my family, and I was comforted. I saw the smiles of Marguerite, and I seemed insensible to the lan- guor, the saddened cheerfulness, they expressed. I did not perceive that, while I was provided with every thing neces- sary in my condition, my family were in want of the very bread that should sustain existence.
My health in the mean time improved, and my percep- tions became proportionably clearer. Symptoms of deso- lation and famine, though as much as possible covered from my sight, obtruded themselves, and were remarked. One day in particular I observed various tokens of this nature in silence, and with that sort of bewildered understanding which at once labours for comprehension and resists belief. The day closed ; and what I had perceived pressed upon my mind, and excluded sleep. Now for the first time I ex- erted myself to recollect in a methodical way the state of my affairs ; for the severity of my illness had at length succeeded to banish from me all ideas and feelings but what related to the sensations it produced, and to the objects around me ; and it was not without effort that I could once more fully call to mind the scenes in which I had been engaged. The truth then by regular degrees rose com- pletely to view ; and I began to be astonished, that my poor wife and children had been able in any manner to get through the horrible evils to which they must have been exposed. This thought I revolved in my mind for near two hours ; and the longer I dwelt upon it, the more per- turbed and restless I grew. At length it became impossible for me to hold my contemplations pent up in my own bo- som. I turned to Marguerite, and asked her, whether she were asleep.
She answered in the negative: she had been remark- ing my restlessness, and tenderly enquired respecting its cause.
" How long," said I, " is it since I was taken with the fever ? "
" A month to-morrow," replied she. " It was of the most malignant and distressing kind while it lasted, and
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I did not expect you to live. But it -has left you a fort- night ; and I hope, Reginald,, you find yourself getting strong again."
( Switzerland ? "
' ' Three months,, my love ! "
" I remember very well the letter we received from mon- sieur Grimseld ; has any further intelligence reached us from that quarter ? "
" None."
" None ! No supply of any kind has reached you ? "
" My dear Reginald, talk of something else ! You will soon, I hope, be well : our children are all alive ; and the calamity, that has not succeeded to separate us, or to dimi- nish our circle of love even by a single member, we will learn to bear. Let us fix our attention on the better pro- spects that open before us ! "
" Stay, Marguerite ! I have other questions to ask. Be- fore you require me to bear the calamities that have over- taken us, let me understand what these calamities are. While we waited for intelligence from Switzerland, we ex- pended the whole sum that we brought with us, and I was obliged to hire myself to the episcopal gardener for bread ; was it not so ? "
" Indeed, Reginald, you are to blame ! Pray question me no further ! "
{f This was our condition some time ago ; and now, for a month past, I have been incapable of labour. Marguerite, what have you done ? "
" Indeed, my love, I have been too anxious for you, to think much of any thing else. We had still some things, you know, that we could contrive to do without ; and those I have sold. Charles too, our excellent-hearted son, has lately hired himself to the gardener, and has every night brought us home a little, though it was but little."
to destruction ! Our rent too, surely you have not been able to pay that ? "
" Not entirely. In part I have been obliged to pay it." i
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" Ah ! I well remember how flinty-hearted a wretch has got the power over us in that respect ! "
" He has not turned us out of doors. He threatened hard several times. At last I saw it was necessary to make an effort, and the day before yesterday I paid him half his demand. If I could have avoided that, we might have had a supply of food a little longer. I in treated earnestly for a little further indulgence, but it was in vain. It went against the pride and independence of my soul to sue to this man; but it was for you and for my children I"
" Remorseless wretch ! Then every petty resource we had is gone ? "
" Indeed I do not know that we have any thing more to sell. I searched narrowly yesterday ; but I will examine again to-day. The poor children must have something to support them, and their fare has of late been dreadfully scanty."
" Their fare ! What have they eaten ? "
" Bread ; nothing else for the last fortnight !"
" And yourself?"
" Oh, Reginald ! it was necessary, you know, that I should keep myself alive. But, I assure you, I have robbed them as little as I could."
" Horror, horror! Marguerite, what is it you dream of? I see my wife and children dying of hunger, and you talk to me of hope and of prospects ! Why has this detail of miseries been concealed from me ? Why have I been suf- fered, with accursed and unnatural appetite, to feed on the vitals of all I love ? "
" Reginald ! even selfishness itself would have taught us that ! It is to your recovery that we look for our future support ! "
" Mock me not, I adjure you, with senseless words ! You talk idly of the future, while the tremendous present bars all prospect to that future. We are perishing by inches. We have no provision for the coming day! No, no; some- thing desperate, something yet unthought of, must be at- tempted ! I will not sit inactive, and see my offspring around me die in succession. No, by Heaven ! Though I am starving like Ugolino, I am not, like Ugolino, shut up in a
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dungeon ! The world is open ; its scenes are wide; the re- sources it offers are, to the bold and despairing, innumerable ! I am a father, and will show myself worthy of the name !"
' ( Reginald ! torture me not by language like this ! Think what it is to be indeed a father, and make yourself that ! Be careful of yourself; complete your recovery, — and leave the rest to me ! I have conducted it thus far, nor am I yet without hope. Eight days ago I applied to the secretary of the palace, representing your case as a retainer of the bishop, disabled by sickness, and with a family unprovided for. Till yesterday I got no answer to my memorial ; and then he informed me, that you had been so short a time in employ, that nothing could be done for you. But to-day I will throw myself at the feet of the bishop himself, who arrived last night only from the other side of the lake."
Every word that Marguerite uttered went to my heart. It was not long before the dawn of the day, and the truths I had heard were further confirmed to me by the organ of sight. The sentiments of this night produced a total revo- lution in me, and I was no longer the feeble convalescent that the setting sun of the preceding day had left me. The film was removed from my eyes, and I surveyed not the objects around me with a glassy eye and unapprehensive observation. All the powers I possessed were alert and in motion. To my suspicious and hurried gaze the apartment appeared stripped of its moveables, and left naked, a mansion in which for despair to take up his abode. My children approached me ; I seemed to read the wan and emaciated traces of death in their countenances. This perhaps was in some degree the painting of my too conscious thoughts. But there needed no exaggeration to awaken torture in my bosom, when, thus stimulated, I observed for the first time the dreadful change that had taken place in Marguerite. Her colour was gone ; her cheeks were sunk ; her eye had the quickness and discomposure expressive of debility. I took hold of her hand, and found it cold, emaciated, and white. I pressed it to my lips with agony; a tear unbidden fell from my eye, and rested upon it. Having finished my examination, I took my hat, and was hastening to escape into the street. Marguerite noted my motions, and anxi- i 2
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ously interposed to prevent my design. She laid her hand on my arm gently, yet in a manner full of irresistible expostulation.
" Where would you go ? What have you purposed ? Do not, — Oh, do not, destroy a family, to whom your life, your sobriety, and prudence, are indispensable \"
I took her hand within both mine. " Compose yourself, my love ! I have been your enemy too much already, to be capable now, so much as in thought, of adding to my guilt! I need an interval for musing and determination. I will return in a very short time, and you shall be the confidant of my thoughts ! "
With wild and impatient spirit I repassed in idea the whole history of my life. But principally I dwelt in recol- lection upon the marquis de Damville, that generous friend, that munificent benefactor, whose confidence I had so ill repaid. " Damville ! " exclaimed I, " you trusted to me your daughter, the dearest thing you knew on earth ; you believed that the wretch did not live who could be unjust to so rich a pledge. Look down, look down, O best of men ! from the heaven to which your virtues have raised you, and see of how much baseness man — yes, the man you disdained not to call your friend — is capable ! But, no ! a sight like this might well convert the heaven you dwell in to hell ! You trusted her to me ; I have robbed her ! You enriched her mind with the noblest endowments ; I have buried them in the mire of the vilest condition ! All her generous, her unwearied exertions are fruitless ; by my evil genius they are blasted ! I have made her a mother, only that she might behold her children perishing with hunger ! They stretch out their hands to me for the smallest portion of that inheritance, which I have squandered in more than demoniac vice ! This, this is the fruit of my misdeeds ! I am now draining the last dregs of that mischief, of which I have so wickedly, so basely, been the author ! "
As I returned I met Marguerite, who was come from her attempt upon the bishop. He had received her paper, and delivered it to his secretary, that very secretary who had already disappointed all her expectations from that quarter. She had attempted to speak, to adjure the bishop, whatever
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he did., not to deliver her over to a man hy whom her hopes had been so cruelly frustrated ; hut the tumult of the scene drowned her voice, and the hurry and confusion over- powered her efforts. They, however, drew such a degree of attention on her, that, in the dissentions which religtous broils at that time spread in Constance, she was suspected of pressing thus earnestly towards the person of the bishop with no good design, and in fine was rudely thrust out of the palace. She had not recovered from the agitation into which she had been thrown, when I met her. I eagerly enquired into the cause of her apparent distress ; but she shook her head mournfully, and was silent. I easily under- stood where she had been, and the failure of her experi- ment.
"All then," said I, "is at an end. Now, Marguerite, you must give up your experiments, and leave to me the cure of evils of which I only am the author. I will return this instant to the garden of the palace, and resume the situation I formerly occupied."
" For God's sake, Reginald, what is it you mean ? You have just acquired strength to seek the benefit of air. The least exertion fatigues you. At this moment, the little walk you have taken has covered you with perspiration. You could not dig or stoop for a quarter of an hour without being utterly exhausted."
" Marguerite, I will not sit down tamely, and see my family expire. In many cases it is reasonable to bid a valetudinarian take care of himself. But our situation is beyond that. I must do something. Extraordinary cir- cumstances often bring along with them extraordinary strength. No man knows, till the experiment, what he is capable of effecting. I feel at this moment no debility ; and I doubt not that the despair of my mind will give re- doubled energy to my efforts."
While I spoke thus, I was conscious that I had little more than the strength of a new-born child. But I could not endure at such a time to remain in inactivity. I felt as much ashamed of the debilitated state in which my fever had left me, as I could have done of the most inglorious effeminacy and cowardice of soul. I determined to relieve i 3
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my family, or perish in the attempt. If all my efforts were vain, I could not better finish my career, than exhausted, sinking, expiring under a last exertion, to discharge the duties of my station.
We returned into the house. Marguerite took from a closet the last remnant of provisions we had, the purchase of poor Charles's labour of the preceding day. There was a general contest who should escape from receiving any