Agnes Vol. 2 — page 187: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

180 There was another pause; and then Lord Ormeby went on to sus, ‘In casting @ retrospec tive glance aver my lite, Agnes, thera is a perioc of two or three years which seems as if it were covered by a black veil, not altogether impervious tu the sight, but through which the mental vision ean only penetrate dimwly and imperfectly. That period of my life remains not an entire blank in my memory ; but its incidents are only seen in mere sketchy outlines or uncertain shapeless forms, as objects that are seen through a mist. That period of three years to which I refer, Agnes, was the interval that immediately succeeded my flight from ‘ngland and wy transit over the Atlantic. Shud- der not, dearest !—but—but—with fortitude arm yourself—while you learn that for threo yeara I was the inmate of—of I can acarcely apeak it an asylum you understand me~in New York !” A shriek escaped from the lips of Agnes; horror was expressed in her eyes ; and her checks became deadly pale as sho again threw her arma about her father’s neck ; and then she burst forth into a flood of tears, mingled with convulsive subs. It was some time before the feelings of either | the father or daughter were sufficiently composed to enable the former to continue his narrative. “ My dearest Agnes,” he at length said, “ you can understand ine fully when I assure you that I am not telling you all these things to harrow up your feelings or to plunge dagrers into your senasi- tive heart: but it is a needful though a painful task which 1 am tulfilling. You musé know everything connected with my bygone career; or else if you comprehended not what has been the state of my mind fur so many long, long years, you would not hold me guiltiess nor my conduct venial in having abandoned you. Nay, interrupt me not !—but listen, [ beseech you! Yes—for three whule years was I an inmate of that place,— not because © was veritably mad, for 1 was harm. less; but because I had been found a wanderer in the streets of New York—penniless, starving— without any document about me to show who I was—and cbstinately maintaining a profound silence when qucstioned.” “ Just heavon, dear father ! how you must have suffered !” murmured Agnes, again weeping. “And then,” hastily pursued Lord Ormsby, “ on being ewancipated frum that place, I was taken by a benevolent hand and introduced as a clerk into a counting-house, where I remained for some months, duing my duty—that is to say, perform- ing whatsvever tasks that were set me, with a mechanical precision. About that time the plague was raging in Now Orleans—decimating the po- pulation, and ronderiug that great southern city a scene of horror and mourning. The mercantile firm at Now York had large transactions with New Orleans: it suddenly became of vital import- ance to send an arent to-that suuthorn city; but no one would go to encounter (as it was supposed) au almost certain death. At that crisis I offered my services. Of what value was my life? I could afford to triflo with it—to stake it upon any venture—because I recked not for it! I went to New Orleans. It was while there,—yes, methinks it was there, if my memory do not fail me—that 1 chanced to receive from au Hoglish traveller some intelugence relative to those whom I had left be. AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE. hind in my native land nearly four years pre- vious. I learnt that my father-in law had com- mitted suicide, and that my wife was dead. This was all that I could ascertain; for my informant was but slightly acquainted with the circumstances of the case, and the discourse arose by one of those accidents which occasionally occur within the ex- perience of everybody. I should add that the Englishman entertained not the slightest idea how deeply interested I was in the matters whereof he was conversing. The plague continued to rage at New Orleans—the terrible cholera, converting whole streets into sepulchres and carrying desolation nto thousands of homes! But it spared mo; and I was enabled to render the most important ser- vices to the mercantile firm which I represented in hat southern city, On my return to New York, my employers presented me with a sum of money, which if represented in English coin, would amount to about eight hundred pounds. I quitted their service: I was getting disgusted with the haunts of men and with mankind itself, I bobeld selfishness everywhere ; and I longed to flee afar from human society. I thought of pushing off nto the Far West—clearing Sor myself a place in the midst of one of the great primeval furests, and there establishing my auchorite home. And thus I became a wanderer through tracks where daily and Hourly I incurred a myriad dangers. There was the Red Indian burning to possess himeelf of my scalp; while the rattle of the deadly reptile continuously warnod me that wheresvever I lay down to rest, my eyes wight close in a sluwnber whence there should be no awakening !” “Ob, father! dear father!” shudderingly mur- mured Agnes, as she nestled like a timid bird closer tu her sire’s breast. “And yet 1 passed scatheloss through these and countless other perils, which must be encountered by those,” pursued Lord Ormsby, “who plunge into the wild regions of the Far West. or years I wandered thereo—sometimes settling for weeks in little villages or hamlets, on which 1 unexpect- odly stumbled as it wore amidst those primeval foresta—sometimes abiding in caves hollowed by nature in the rock. At last I became wearied of this oxistence, and I began tu think that I had no right tu separate myself so completely from the great mass of human society. By a strange re- vulsion of feeling my heart began to yearn to- wards my species, and I fancied that by doing good to others 1 should be pouring a balm into the wounds of my own soul. And so I went back into the great cities and towns of the American Union. I visited prisons and madhouses—I was never wearicd of listening to tules of distress in order that I might relieve the narrators. Thus, in less than a twelvemonth after my return from the far-off places of nature’s primeval barbarism to those scenes of civilization, my purse was emptied ; and the reflections which were then torced upon my mind began to diminish the philanthropy of my feelings. I saw where I had been duped: I com- prehended where I had been imposed upon: and at the same time I received several practical illus- trations of the ingratitude of those whu had been the recipients of my bvunty. I went to New York: I made my way to the oflices of the mer- cantile firm by which [ had been previously em- ploved: but there I found that nothing could be COLMUG 7) LO©OOlKS (C@