CHAPTER X THE MADONNA AND CHILD
"Pure and undimmed, thy angel smile
Is mirrored on my dreams,
Like evening's sunset girded isle,
Upon her shadowed streams;
And o'er my thoughts thy vision floats,
Like melody of spring-bird notes,
When the blue halcyon gently laves
His plumage in the flashing waves."
PARK BENJAMIN
"Please, miss, a letter for you," said the post-boy, handing Natalie a letter, which she was not long in discovering, was from her dear mother.
"I thank you, most heartily," said she, in her low, musical voice, which caused the youthful sprig of Uncle Sam's department to leave incomplete the angle of forty-five degrees, which he had been in the habit of considering as of no little importance in the perfecting of his duties, as he went his daily rounds.
"Zounds!" said he to himself, as he went whistling up the street, "if I don't hope they'll send down another document to her soon!" and his eyes wandered up to the little patch of blue sky which was to be seen between the tops of brick walls.
The Sea-flower perused the letter, and sat, apparently buried in deep thought.
"Why, Natie, darling," exclaimed Winnie, as she came bounding into the room, "what has given you such a wise look this morning? A letter, eh? good news, I trust; far be the day which shall bring to you aught but happiness."
"Thank you, thank you, Winnie, for your good wishes; but I cannot well conceive of any other than pleasure coming from my gentle mother's pen."
Winnie ran her fingers lightly over the keys of the piano, and Natalie did not suspect, as she listened to her sprightly air, that there was a bright tear glistening in her eye at the holy name of--mother.
"But you are unusually thoughtful to-day, Natalie," said Winnie, running her taper fingers through the sunny tresses of her friend, "did I not know it were an impossibility, I should say you had lost your best friend;" and putting her dimpled mouth close to her ear, she whispered some mysterious words so softly,--so very softly, that were we disposed to turn listener, we could only have distinguished that one word,--"Delwood;" but we might have seen the delicate tinge of pink, which, tell-tale like, overspread the face and neck of the Sea-flower. Be that as it may, there was a thoughtful look lingering about those expressive features, which could even be traced, when at night-fall, a well-known step was heard, echoing with no unpleasant sound along the corridor, and a hand, which, though of feminine delicacy, could have been fired with sufficient nerve to have wielded a giant's weapon, at the invader who should come between him and the gentle being, whose hand was not withdrawn as he held it reverently within his own.
"Ah, Miss Sea-flower," said Delwood, as he gazed deep into her eyes, "you are far away among the invisible sprites of ocean to-night, are you? not one thought for us poor unfortunates, who are so ungenial to those translucent ones, as never to have been initiated to their fairy haunts. Really; I must get up a little smile at your expense, for you could not better please an artist, in the composing of your features, if you were sitting for your picture. By the way, have you seen the famous Madonna, whose great beauty is the theme of all conversation? I am told it is a master-piece, by some gentleman who appears not anxious that his brilliant artistical powers shall be published, as his name never accompanies his works, and the piece in question was but by accident, brought to public view. It hangs, among others, in his fine gallery of paintings, and is hung with a heavy drapery of black, which was by chance removed by a gentleman, a friend of mine, who offered a handsome fortune at once for the prize; but his rich offer was declined by the owner, who, to the gentleman's earnest desire that he might become its possessor, replied,--'sir, that bit of inanimate canvas is all upon which my weary life feeds! were you to offer me the wealth of the world, I would not part with that one small picture! neither can I be wrought upon to produce a copy of the same, without violating feelings which are sacred.' Whether this is a fancy piece, or if it bears the semblance of some one of his kindred, my friend did not inform me, as he said his very tongue clave to the roof of his mouth, as the sad artist spoke those few deep-toned words. I have not myself seen this wonder, and whether I might be thus warm in my praises is a question, as you know I am insensible to female beauty, if I may judge by remarks which from time to time have come to my ear, in past years, from estimable mothers, whose beautiful daughters ought to have called forth my glowing sentiments; 'but that which is wanting cannot be numbered,'" said he, stealing an arch glance at Natalie.
"I have not seen this painting," replied Natalie, her countenance lighting up with a new thought, "but I have several times visited the artist's rooms, though I have never been so fortunate as to get sight of the mysterious connoisseur. Those who have met him, describe him as being a middle-aged gentleman, of foreign birth, very marked in his polite, graceful manners; yet there appears to be a great mystery hanging about him, and some have ventured to remark that his is no common history, that he is not merely what he pretends,--an obscure artist! there is that about his bearing which denotes high birth. I have admired his talent displayed, and must see this remarkable production; for you know I am a great admirer of female beauty."
That night, Natalie mused over the events of the day,--the contents of the letter which she had received, were first in her mind. Her mother had expressed an earnest desire to see her child once more; among other things, she had briefly made mention of a matter in regard to their pecuniary affairs,--quite a little sum of the comfortable fortune which Capt. Grosvenor had, by dint of the many perils at sea, accumulated, had been lost in a recent bank failure;--a failure, as Mrs. Grosvenor stated, which had proved a source of poverty to many a family, upon their little island; many a widow had been obliged to part with the last dollar, which had been earned by the seafaring husband, who had never returned to share the benefit of his labors; Their whole community had been more or less affected by this failure. As to Mrs. Grosvenor's own loss, she had said it was not heavy, or, at least, she had spoken of it as not resting heavily upon her spirits; why then should the Sea-flower's thoughts dwell thus upon the matter?--she still mused--"I fear this may have been a heavier loss, than the gentle words, so characteristic of my mother's tenderness for me, may imply! she would not, if it were in her power to prevent, have me feel that I must curtail my expenses in the least, and I know that my necessary expenses here, must be a great tax upon her income; to be sure Harry has often said, that our dear mother shall never know what it is to want; but for all that, I feel that I might do something to repay my mother for all that she has done for me. Yes! it is my duty! and it certainly would be a duty of pleasure, if I could do anything to assist her." This it was, which had caused the thoughtful expression of the Sea-flower; this which had called forth the ever ready wit of Miss Winnie--had detained Delwood's gaze! But what would be the sentiment of uppertendom, when it should be rumored that the beautiful young creature, of the proud Clarence Delwood's choice, had stooped so low, as to maintain herself by her own hands? How would Mr. Delwood himself receive such an announcement? such thoughts did not occur to the mind of the noble hearted girl; her every thought and act were of good, and she did not for once think, that there were those, who could sneer at good motives. Ah! Natalie, this is a cold, unfeeling world, at best! as experience of long years doth confirm. Thy little day hath not yet taught thee, that the world is born of sin, for thou only lookest on the human face as divine. How Natalie was to render assistance to her mother, by relieving her of any incumbrance, of which she, herself, might be the cause, had not yet been matured, until Delwood had spoken of the popular picture-gallery, of the unknown artist; when as we have said, her face was lit up with a new thought. "I will seek this gentleman, and it may be that he can be induced to bring out the dormant powers, which I am persuaded are in existence; for my love for his department of the fine arts, knows no bounds! To-morrow I will visit him. This veil of mystery would seem a barrier, yet perhaps it is of sadness, and I can conceive that such are of the tender hearted,--alive to another's wants."
"Want!" she repeated aloud; it sounded strangely upon her ear; and indeed, we cannot couple the thought with such as she! Can such fair ones of earth, meet with the chilling breath of adversity? Yes, we may meet with them in our wanderings! Let us deal with them tenderly; for it may be one of heaven's sensitive flowers. Stranger still would that word have sounded to Mrs. Grosvenor and her son, in connection with their Sea-flower, yet it was remotest from their minds, that such thoughts would find their way to her heart. Mrs. Grosvenor's circumstances were indeed more embarrassed than she had expressed to Natalie, yet she had sufficient left, wherewith they might by retrenching a little, live very comfortably. Accordingly, that Natalie might not feel this change, she had dismissed her only servant (if we may do honor to old Vingo, by dubbing him with a more elevated appellation), making some other restrictions in her domestic affairs, for the sake of the child, whom she knew was not her own by kindred, doing away with what she persuaded herself were but unnecessary indulgences. Faithful mother! thou wilt have thy reward.
Natalie arose the next morning, refreshed by the sweet repose which innocence only knows, and although the day was ushered in with clouds, and an occasional rain-drop, she proceeded to put into execution the plans of yesterday; she had made no one a confidant of her designs, not even Winnie; and when that little lady met her in the hall, all armed and equipped as the weather directed, she exclaimed,--"where now? Miss Snow-wreath! are you going to temper your indissolvable charms to an April shower? or is it to hunt up some poor little refugee; who is so unfortunate as to be minus an umbrella, that you are so bereft of your senses, as to venture out, afoot and alone, this disagreeable morning?"
"Neither the one, nor yet the other, my fair sister," joyously replied the Sea-flower, and she tripped down the steps, smiling upon the little frightened rain-drops, which fell lightly upon her, from the skies, not offering to treat them with such indecorum, as the spreading of her umbrella, and, when Winnie called to her to come back, or if she would venture forth, to take the carriage, she was far out of hearing. Arrived at her point of destination, Natalie was so lost in admiration of the noble illustrations of the infinite mind of man, that she had lost sight of her object, in visiting the unknown artist, until she was awakened from her revery, by a voice near her, and looking 'round, she discovered a poor, dejected looking old negro woman, kneeling with her hands clasped together, and her eyes fixed upon--Natalie followed in the direction--it must be the beautiful Madonna! of which she had heard. Involuntarily she assumed the position of the negress! What visions filled her soul! flitting to and fro. The past, the present, and the future rushed in mingled indistinctness through her mind! and over the chaos there floated a calm, which gradually took the form of recollections which now caused her heart to beat loudly with the uncertainty, fraught with reality. That night! came fresh again to her memory, when she had overheard her brother's words,--"she is not my sister by birth!" The same holy passions filled her soul, and she gazed upon that face, the semblance of which, she had many a time, ere now, looked upon in dreams! might they not have been waking dreams?
"God grant dat such as she, neber know what it am to be torn from her childer!" groaned the black woman, with a deep-drawn sigh.
"Ah, my poor woman," said Natalie, her eyes still fixed upon that spiritual face, "I trust such has never been your lot."
"Bress you! missy, dem is de only kind words I hear dis many a day, since dey take me way from my poor ole man, and de young uns! but I's not sure now but you's de spirit ob dat pure cretur, (pointing to the Madonna) dat's speakin a few words, jus to cheer me like."
"And where are your children now? and your poor old man?"
"O! missy," said the woman, drawing a parcel from her bosom, carefully unfolding it, and holding a large red handkerchief up to view,--"if I tinks I eber find de mate to dat, I'specks I die wid de joy! but it am a long story, missy, it begins way back, a long fore your sweet eyes see de light ob dis wicked world."
"Do not call it a wicked world; it is a beautiful world, which God has given us to live in!"
"Ah, missy, if oder white folks like you, I 'specks it be jus no world at all; it be all one great heaben!"
"But what is this mark upon the handkerchief?" asked Natalie, for she had seen a fac-simile of the little device, upon old Vingo's bandanna, which he used to lend her when she was a child, and she had handled it so carefully, because he had told her that it was the most valuable thing he owned in the world, beside his Bible, and she had looked up into his face, with her great blue eyes, and asked him what the two little crooked marks were made to represent; and he had told her they were to represent himself and his poor Phillis, for they were bent with the sorrows of the world; and now, here were the same crooked marks, wrought upon the corner of this black woman's handkerchief, which she seemed to treasure so much! What could it mean? Natalie looked upon it in astonishment.
"Where did you get this?" she asked.
"My poor ole man gabe it to me, de last time I sees him, and he takes anoder like it, and say, 'Phillis, we will keep dem; dey's not quite as 'spressive as de garultypes ob missus's, but when you sees dat, you may know dat old Bingo am tinking ob you."
"And do you ever think to meet him again?" asked Natalie, without betraying her emotion at such a discovery.
"Oh, missy, if he know anyting about heaven, I might 'speck to meet him dar; but we not know anyting 'bout dat good place den, and I 'specks he am clean used up by dis time; clean gone, widout eber hearin' ob de good Lor'!"
"And your children,--you have never forgotten them?"
"No, missy, I neber forgets dem, and though dey brack as dar mammy, I lub dem as much as dat pure creter dar; and I takes dem in my arms, and press dem to my heart de same, but I rudder be called to part wid dem, dan dat such as she hab to gib up her chilen, for 'pears like I can bear it better, cause I's brack."
"My good woman, you have a forgiving spirit for your oppressors, and, thank God, I have it in my power to make two of my fellow mortals happy. What should you say, if I were to tell you where you may find your husband?"
The woman looked at her, without speaking a word.
"Your husband is alive and well; and faithful old Vingo is at this moment in my mother's family, where his wants, spiritual and temporal, are cared for; and he has often told me, if he could but once again see his wife, Phillis, he should die happy."
The woman gave one long, piercing cry, and sank upon the floor. At this instant the artist issued from an adjoining apartment, and stood gazing upon the scene.
"My God! what do I see?" exclaimed the gentleman, in a voice which instantly riveted the Sea-flower's attention upon him.
"Tell me! in mercy tell me who thou art!" and he leaned against a column for support.
Had Natalie been heir to that weakness which is somewhat characteristic of the gentler sex, she might have been terrified at such deep, impassioned language from a perfect stranger, trembling with the certainty that she stood face to face with a lunatic; but no such fear was hers. Advancing, she bowed low, in honor to his superior age, saying, "pardon me, if I am an intruder here; yet, sir, an apology is needless, for who can resist the grace and beauty which is here displayed? My presence, sir, has evidently disturbed you, and if you will permit me to ask one question, I will retire;--the Madonna, that face of an angel, is she the pure production of your own soul, or can it be that such as she has indeed been amongst us?"
"She has been, and has passed away!--has passed away," he repeated to himself; "I never thought to meet her again until the dark river had been crossed! but what do I see?" and he passed his hand over his eyes, as if to assure himself that he were not dreaming.
No, it was no dream; a gentle, living form stood before him who had sorrowed for his only child nearly twenty long years, and was devoutly regarding those inanimate features to which his soul had clung, as if it were of life; and his eye now wandered from the animate to the inanimate,--the beauteous countenance of the Madonna. It was not unlike that of the Sea-flower; the features were the same. Regaining his composure, the artist proceeded, in a peculiarly mellow tone of voice--
"Dear lady, you will pardon my seemingly ill-mannered reception of you, I know, when you have heard what has never yet passed my lips to any mortal! Near twenty years have expired since I left my cherished home, on the other side of the Atlantic, and came to America. I met with sorrow at an early age; the young wife of my choice was taken from me, and I should have been overwhelmed with grief, had not the precious boon left to me by her, claimed my heart-felt love; the beautiful babe smiled upon me, and I felt rebuked in spirit that I should thus murmur at God's will, when in his loving kindness he had spared to me this, her very likeness, and I came to smile again. I could then smile upon his chastening rod, but,"--and a deep shudder thrilled his frame, "I have since been led to ask myself if there is a God! O! can a good God thus afflict his children?"
"Pause, sir, I beseech you, ere you give utterance to such dreadful thoughts! Think of the countless mercies which you have received at his hand,--weigh them well in a balance with your sorrows, whatever they may have been, and you will find the measure of your blessings tenfold."
"Your words are as balm to my calloused heart; yet listen to me, and judge if my cruel fate would not engender a dark distrust in a purer heart than mine. My child grew in strength and beauty,--grew to be like her who had left us; she was the pride of my luxuriant home, the main spring of my life! Yes, I could realize it then, while I could yet gaze upon her face and dream of heaven; but other days drew near. It was in her twentieth year when my Natalie knelt before the altar--a bride. She had given her hand to a noble-hearted American gentleman, upon whom I looked as being worthy of my darling's choice; and as she placed one hand within his, she took the hand of her father with the other, and whispered,--'you now give your daughter to another, yet it shall only serve to bind me still closer to my father.' I was happy then; and when two years later, I pressed my daughter to my heart, and bade her adieu, for the first time, without a thought that it might be the last, I was happy; and when I pressed a kiss on the cheek of her infant child, and grasped the hand of my noble son, her husband, I was happy; for so full was my cup of joy, that I had forgotten the drop of bitterness which I had tasted therefrom. But, alas! it was not so full to overflowing that there was not room for the draught that was to be my portion. They sailed for America, to visit his home, when, after the settlement of his estate in this Western world, they would return to make glad their father's home; that day has not yet come! A year elapsed, and I had no tidings of them, yet I would not permit the thought to dwell with me that I should never hear from them more, and another year passed on before the despair entered my soul, which has been to me a burning flame ever since. I gave my possessions to the keeping of another, and left my native Italy, to cross the deep, if I might learn of the fate of my children. I went to the place he had told me was his home, but I met with only strangers there. I inquired for the noble vessel in which my child had sailed; she had not belonged on this coast, and thus were my earnest inquiries repulsed, day after day, with a heartless--'we can give you no information.' I travelled from place to place, in hopes to get some clue to the mystery which hung around my lost ones; but, alas, that was not to be! I sought in vain. It was then a change came over me; I hardly knew myself. I concealed my name, and lived a recluse, never disclosing to any one the history of my sorrows. But I could not live thus, and I endeavored to divert my mind from this state of frenzy, by making use of the talent, for which, in my heart of stone, I would not thank my God for bestowing upon me! And so I have lived, as you find me,--'the unknown artist.' It is needless to add, the beautiful Madonna, which was never designed for the rude gaze of public curiosity, is the likeness of my child; and though I had no other than the impress of her features upon my heart, to guide my trembling hand, yet I have got a soul upon that canvas! Sometimes I have fancied that some good angel had not forgotten me, and had breathed her soul into those pure eyes!"
"And the child?" asked Natalie, in a suppressed breath, scarcely above a whisper.
"Her child was but a tiny babe; her features were not sufficiently developed to leave its memory on my mind; yet they told me the little creature was like her mother. This, the Madonna's child, is from life. In my wanderings I visited the island of Nantucket. I spent some little time there, as I found the great hearts of those people more congenial to my weary spirits, than the chilling air of avarice, which, in a measure, marks this western world. One morning, as I strolled along the shore, looking out upon the sea, depressed in spirits, I observed a pretty sight not far from me; an old negro sat upon the beach, and by his side an infant, some eighteen months old, with her arms clasped about the neck of a large Newfoundland dog, while her eyes, which were of the blue of heaven, were fixed upon the waves which rolled and broke in harmless ripples at her feet. She was a beauteous child. I have never seen another upon whom I could look, as the little angel that had gone. I traced her beautiful features, as I was so fortunate as to have pencil and paper by me, and was about to pass on, when I observed the brother of the child approaching; he was a noble little fellow, with the air of a young prince, and I never shall forget his proud answer, when I asked him of his sister,--'We call her Sea-flower, sir, for she came to us from God, and he smiles upon each little flower, as it lifts up its head, all trembling with dew.' I breathed a blessing upon them both, for they had drawn a tear from my heart of stone."
"Sir," said Natalie, as he paused, "Nantucket is my home; often have I listened to my dear brother, as he has told me the pretty story of the sad gentleman whom he met, when I was but an infant, and how he spoke to me so tenderly, and sighed for his own Natalie. I had no other name then but Sea-flower, and I have been called by that name ever since; yet after that day, my Christian name was Natalie."
The artist gazed upon her, and pointing to the Madonna, exclaimed,--"Thou art the child! you are like the Madonna! Can it be that I have unconsciously restored to the mother her child? None other than her own could thus resemble her!"
"In my innermost heart there has ever dwelt a mystery, which I can find no language to describe! In my dreams I have had sweet visions of a beauteous being, who has smiled upon me, and made me happy. The Madonna awakens all those pure feelings, and I cannot but look upon her as in some way connected with my being; yet my own mother lives, and my affection for her is as for no other being upon the earth."
"She is in heaven," mused the artist.
At this moment the door opened, and who should enter but Clarence Delwood, who was much surprised to find Natalie thus unattended, in earnest conversation with the mysterious artist. She arose as he entered, and presented him to the gentleman, but she had not yet learned his name. The artist presented his card to Delwood, assuming the same frigid manner which had become his nature. Delwood gave one glance at the Madonna.
"How is this, sir," asked he, in an excited manner, "that you have made use of this lady's face to attract the notice of a vulgar public to your works? Who gave you authority for such assurance as this, sir?"
"Calm yourself, Clarence," said the Sea-flower, mildly, "the gentleman had never seen me, to his knowledge, until this morning. It rather becomes us to apologize for this intrusion upon the sacred memory of his child."
Mr. Delwood listened with astonishment to the information which we have just learned, and his eyes wandered from the beautiful Madonna to the no less beautiful being, whom he hoped, at no distant day, to call his own, while a thought filled his soul with delight, and he said to himself,--"I knew that she was infinitely above me, though outward circumstances would make her of no particular distinction."
"Yes, there is a meaning in this, a mystery to be solved. Who is she?--this pure being. And your mother still lives," mused the artist; "do you resemble her?"
"I am unlike any one of my family, so much so that strangers have noted it."
"And your father?"
"Is in heaven."
"Truly," mused the gentleman, "and your sainted mother likewise."
"Permit me to ask your address, gentle lady," said the artist, as his visitors prepared to retire.
"And in return you will allow me to come every day, and look upon this dear face?"
"You are the only person whom I have bade a welcome to my presence for years;" and bidding them a "good morning," the artist retired to brood over other than his sorrows.
It was then that Natalie remembered the poor black woman, though not a thought of the object of her own visit thither, crossed her mind. The woman was silently contemplating the Sea-flower, as if she were an angel of mercy.
"Where do you live, my good woman?" inquired Natalie.
"One spot am not my home more dan anoder, missy; de wide earth am my home. But tell me, missy, did ole Phillis hear you straight, or am she so warped troughout, dat she hot get de right comprehensions?"
"What I have told you, you may rely upon; come here in a day or two again, and you shall hear farther."
"Bress de Lor'! bress de good Lor', for sending de bright angel!" shouted the woman, as she ran out of the house, throwing about her long arms, (now freed from slavery's chains,) and making sundry other uncouth manifestations of her joy, so characteristic of her race, which caused a policeman to realize the dignity of his station, by actually opening one eye, and puffing diligently at the cloud of tobacco smoke which encircled the other.
A week later, and Natalie received a letter from her mother, in reply to her account of her visit to the mysterious artist. It ran thus:--
"MY DEAR DAUGHTER,--It was with joy, mingled with a shade of sadness, that I perused your last. Not that you, my innocent child, could impart other than pleasure to the meanest of weak mortals, yet it brought afresh to my mind a subject, which, though it marks one of the happiest moments of my life, owing to peculiar circumstances,--the memory of my dear husband being closely associated therewith,--brings to my heart, also, a shadow of grief. That which I would say has to do with yourself, my daughter, yet I cannot commission my pen to the revealing of this long-buried secret. I would tell you with my own lips, of the mystery which hangs around your birth, for I would seal the tale with a mother's kiss, looking upon my foster-child for an assurance of love undiminished. You must now come home to us. I can bear this separation no longer. The time has come when our dear little Sea-flower, for so many years the sunshine of our home, shall test the strength of her affection for those who will ever regard her--a blessing from that heavenly shore. Say to the author of the Madonna and child, that I would earnestly wish that he may accompany you home, as he may be informed of that which so nearly concerns his happiness. Adieu, my daughter, until I shall see you once more. From your affectionate mother."
Natalie folded the letter, and repeating aloud, "can I ever love my mother less?" she leaned her head upon her hand, and wept.
The day drew near when the Sea-flower, accompanied by Mr. Alboni, (for such was the name of the gentlemanly artist,) and Clarence Delwood, should seek her island home. This was anything but a pleasant anticipation for Winnie, for since her mother's death she had learned to lean upon Natalie, though younger than herself, and had received from her in times of trial, such sweet counsel as would sink into her heart, giving her new strength, making her a wiser and a better being. In the time which Natalie had been in the Santon family, there had been a perceptible change in the character of the beautiful coquettish heiress. Those blemishes which the faithful mother had discovered, upspringing in her daughter's youthful heart, marring her otherwise lovable character, had been erased; not that she had lost in any degree that gay, cheery openness of heart which we love so well to meet,--she was yet the Winnie Santon of days which had known no lowering skies, the singing bird of a June morning,--save that an occasional plaintive note, breathed out upon youth's freshness of life's realities.
It was the last night in which these maidens, Winnie and Natalie, might pour out to each other the fulness of their hearts. The last, did we say, the last? distance would separate them ere another sunset, and ocean would intervene; yet we have said,--the last. Folded in each other's arms, they sat in the pale moonlight, each reading within the other's soul, an appreciation of this holy hour. Holy hours are they indeed, which lead our thoughts far up beyond this mortal sphere, pointing us to other than earth's vanities. Beautiful, yet so unlike, they were; and ah, what is more beautiful than maiden purity? Woman,--she fell, yet her name will ever stand foremost in the ranks of all that is exalting.
"And who will there be to love me, when you are gone? Who will talk with me so gently, and keep my feet from the dangerous paths which surround me?" asked Winnie, as the discordant tones of Mrs. Santon's voice stole in upon their quietude, from an adjoining apartment.
"If there is anything in this beautiful world of ours which can make me sad, it is the parting from those whom I love; yet I know it is but for a little while. Dear Winnie, can you realize how kind our Father is, that he has given us the promise of a home where there will be no more parting,--never a farewell? and he will guide your footsteps; make him your friend, and though all others should forsake you, you will be happy. He will be a better friend to you than ever I have been, and remember, Winnie dear, when I am gone, should sorrow come to you, or bitter trials mark your way, go to our Father for counsel, and he will give you sweet rest."
Thus did the Sea-flower endeavor to leave upon Winnie's heart that which should prepare her for meeting the trials which she but too plainly foresaw would be her lot, from the unmotherly spirit evinced by Mrs. Santon. Blessings on thee, noble girl! would there were more like thee to be found in this sinful world below! But what is a blessing craved by the lips of frail mortal, compared with the seraph blessings showered upon thy gentle head, from her who is looking down upon her child, as thy voice is raised in prayer to the God of this motherless one, that she may find refuge beneath the shadow of his wing.
The last farewell was spoken by poor Winnie, with an aching heart, Mr. Santon had pressed the Sea-flower's hand, with a tear in his eye, as if reluctant to let her go, lest the severing of one of the last ties which bound him to happy days, should be too much for his sorrowing heart,--and she had gone, leaving her impress upon the hearts of all who had met and loved her. Her spirit was the spirit of love, forgiving as she hoped to be forgiven,--her sins, which, had it not been said of man, "not one is perfect," we should have looked upon as of no deeper stains than are of the newly washen lambs, gambolling in fresh pastures of innocence. Even to Mrs. Santon's unpardonable slight, in not giving her a parting salutation, pleading one of her timely headaches as an excuse for her non-appearance at the hour of separation,--the Sea-flower had left for her a kind farewell.
After an absence of nearly three years, Natalie stood once again upon the shores of her island home. Everything was as when she had left, for the bustle and change of the outer world does not disturb the quiet of this sea-girt isle. Her mother received her with tears of joy, that fulness of joy which only the mother can feel, who, after a long separation from the child whose beauty of character sheds a halo of honor around the household name, holds her to her heart again, where she knows her to be safest from the world's contumely. Harry welcomed his sister home, with the wild delight of his boyish days, regardless of the presence of strangers in their family circle; while old Vingo, who had been beside himself for a week past, with the prospect of at last actually beholding his missy face to face, capered about the room, as if he were not so near his second childhood. The Sea-flower pressed his bony, black hand to her lips.
"Ah! I know dat you neber change, missy; I know you always be de same! I tells mysef dat, dese long years past, and bress de Lord, poor old Bingo hab one friend as long as he hab a hope ob libin'!"
"Yes, my good Vingo," said the Sea-flower, "you may truly rely upon one friend,--that best of friends, he will never forsake you; but," and she spread out the veritable handkerchief, so precious to the poor black woman, before his wondering eyes, "you are deserving of the rich blessings of earthly friends; for had I been tried, as it has been the will of an overruling providence that you should be, I doubt if I had borne my cross with the submissive spirit which you have manifested. Tell me," added she, pointing out the crooked marks in the corner of the handkerchief, "do you recognize that?"
Vingo drew forth the bandanna, which always accompanied him in his wanderings, and laid it by the side of the other. They were just alike; there were the two crooked marks upon each, speaking as accurately as the most highly finished ambrotype of the day.
"Praise de Lord foreber!" shouted the negro; "I neber 'speck to see dat sight, while I not'ing but ole brack Bingo! I can lib to de end ob my days wid joy at de sight ob dat! it am next to finding poor Phillis hersef. Pray, missy, did you find dat in some accidental cotton bag? or am Bosting only the Christian name for wicked old Kintuck? I shouldn't tink dat angels could lib in dat cannibal hemisphere!"
It was with difficulty that those who witnessed the fellow's ludicrous movements, could refrain from a smile; but when, at a summons from Natalie, the door opened, and the black woman, so nearly allied to the human family as to have manifested an appreciation of the beautiful, stood before them, there was not a dry eye in the room. It was an affecting sight, to witness the meeting of this man and wife, who had been separated for so many long years, and under such trying circumstances. To be sure, they were poor ignorant negroes, who are looked upon by a large portion of the world, as only fit to be ranked with dogs and other dumb animals: yet they have souls, hearts which had been given to Christ, and the meek and lowly Jesus, were he now upon the earth, would not be ashamed to take this down-trodden race by the hand and lift them up. God looks down from his throne above with pitying eye; he pities his children; we grow strong in the assurance of his tender mercies; but let us remember,--he will avenge with a powerful arm, the wrongs inflicted upon his feebler ones; for he hath said,--"My children, love ye one another, even as your heavenly Father loveth you."
This meeting of old Vingo and Phillis, was enough to have softened the heart of the vilest "Legree;" but probably, had one of those gentlemen, whose highly respectable occupation it is to deal in the traffic of buying and selling--man, been present, they might have been led to remark, "The silly creatures seem to imagine they have some feeling."
The evening shades descended. The night was wild, and the voices of the breakers rose loud, as if responding to the angry aspect of nature; yet peace sat beneath the roof of Mrs. Grosvenor's dwelling. The evening lamps were lit, and as Mrs. Grosvenor produced a small casket and laid it on the centre-table, she thought within herself,--it was much such a storm only a few days after our dear one came to us. Mr. Alboni sat with bowed head, as the mother proceeded to bring forth evidences which should identify her darling child as being of the descent and lineage of another line of ancestors than hers; while the Sea-flower, her hand clasped within that of him who had found favor in the mother's eyes, prepared herself to receive any information in regard to her destiny, which it should be the will of a just God to decree. The tiny lace dress, which the infant had worn, when she was first placed in her foster-mother's arms, was held up to view. It was of a costly fabric, embroidered heavily with needle-work, evidently the production of the industry of some lone sister of convent life. The casket, the contents of which had been so long treasured as things sacred was opened and the bands of gold placed in Mr. Alboni's hands. He examined them closely; there were no initials, not the least mark whereby he might learn of that which was of such vast interest to him, when lo! he pressed the spring which had before yielded to Mrs. Grosvenor's touch, and behold!--the same features which he had looked upon day by day, for twenty years, were revealed to him,--the features of his Madonna--his child!
"My God!" exclaimed he, "I thank thee that thou hast brought me from darkness to light, not only that I may acknowledge thy supremacy, but to bless thee during the brief remainder of my days; if I may atone for my deep sin in living so long without thee, even doubting thy existence! This is truly a convincing proof that thou art all in all. I here vow, that should the gracious Lord see fit to chasten his servant, by taking away this, my last support, it shall only serve to increase my faith in the love of my most precious Redeemer!" and with tearful eyes the old gentleman held his grand-daughter to his heart.
"And is it really thus?" asked Natalie; "can it be that my mother has been looking down upon me, from her home in the skies?"
"Your sainted mother is in heaven," spake Mr. Alboni.
The Sea-flower glanced towards her from whom she had ever received a mother's tenderness; there was a smile upon her countenance, yet Natalie observed, though she would fain be happy that her loved one was restored to her kindred, undoubtedly an advantageous discovery in every point of view, it was like an arrow to her heart; for was she not her child? Natalie arose, and giving one hand to her mother, the other to him whom she would henceforth look upon as a father, she said,--"Yes, my own mother has gone to her home; she is an angel there, where I shall meet her at the last; but you, my mother, can never be less dear to me; I must always look upon you as my mother!" and throwing her arms about Mrs. Grosvenor's neck, she exclaimed, "though others shall claim me by the ties of kindred, they never shall part me from you; your child will never forsake you!"
It was enough; the widowed mother was not "written childless." Then it was that Mrs. Grosvenor related every minute particular in regard to the child's discovery, and how she had been a blessing to them all, repaying them doubly for their care. It was a long and interesting story, to which this little circle listened, regardless of the raging elements without, with the exception of the Sea-flower, who drank in every note of nature's mighty chorus, scarcely thinking of the perils to which those who were riding at the mercy of the waves, might be exposed; for her young heart shrank not from ocean's awe; she had always looked upon an ocean grave as a hallowed place of burial.
"And your daughter's name was Natalie," remarked Mr. Delwood; "it is a singular coincidence that the child should be named for the mother."
"It is all a miracle," said Harry, "and sometimes I have thought old Vingo not far out of the way, when he declared 'Missy Sea-flower to have been left upon the beach by no other than the Lord.'"
Gradually Mr. Alboni came to be like himself again. He was a remarkably handsome man, his countenance denoting his generosity of heart. His delight in the society of the Sea-flower, as she pointed out to him each day, some new attraction about her island home, knew no bounds. It was now that Mr. Alboni directed his attention to his unsettled affairs in Italy. Had he lived out his days as the unknown artist, without discovering an heiress to his vast estates, he would probably never have given the subject a thought, and strangers, or some public institution, would have realized a handsome legacy; but his every nerve thrilled now with new life for her; every advantage which wealth could procure would be hers. But it was not only to look after his pecuniary affairs that he laid the question before Mrs. Grosvenor, if her child should accompany him to the land of her birth, but that she might become acquainted with the position in life which she was every way capable of filling. And so it was arranged that Natalie, with her grandfather, should make the tour of the eastern world, whither Mr. Delwood should accompany them. After disposing of Mr. Alboni's estates, and visiting the lions of the East, they would return, to make America their home; and it being left for Natalie to decide what spot should be chosen as their future home, she said, stealing a glance towards Clarence Delwood,--"we will return to my mother's peaceful island home, for we can be happy here."
Accordingly the day was fixed when they should depart, but the very evening before they would sail, brought news to Mr. Delwood of the dangerous, and probably fatal illness of his father. It was with a sad heart that he looked upon such a separation from his betrothed, for he would necessarily resign the pleasure which he had anticipated, in escorting her to countries which he had visited, and which had become dear to him. It was a great disappointment also to Natalie; yet she sought to persuade him it was for the best; "she would soon return, and the separation would bring a thrice joyful meeting."
It was a glorious evening; the soft moonlight kissed the white sea-caps, as each strove to lift its head above its fellows, as if to gaze upon night's purity,--or, mayhap, they would beckon that gentle one, who smiled upon their wild joy, as she reclined upon her lover's breast, to join them, in their revellings. Upon the broad bank of the old South Shore they sat,--a favorite resort of the youth and maidens of this little island of a mid-summer's eve,--old Sankoty to the eastward, lifting high his head, imparting a flood of radiance in pity to thousands, who watch with an intensity, to make the well-known light, rejoicing no less when they have left it far behind, for well do they realize that they have passed one of the most dangerous shoals to be found on the American coast. Behind them, distance about three miles, is the town; there is no din and bustle borne on the night air to their ears,--naught is heard but the moaning voice of the night wind, mingled with the ceaseless roar of the ocean. Here, far from the world's contumely, no eye to see, no ear to hear, save that of Him who is omnipresent, were those vows of love renewed, and registered above. Many a fair maiden has here since plighted her faith, here given her hand to the loved one of her choice, (heaven bless the union of Nantucket's fair ones!) yet the night has never since looked down upon two of more perfect oneness of heart, than those of whom this serene night bore witness.
"And will you still retain your foster-name?" asked Delwood, "or will you travel under your grandfather's Italian name? By the way, I have not heard the name of your father."
"Paul Sunderland was my father's name."
"Sunderland! the Lady Sunderland! I have seen your mother, Natalie!" exclaimed he. "It was none other than she, the kind, beautiful lady who sang to me when I was but a child, in Italy; she whom I begged to take me to that beautiful place again! Ah, it comes to me now, in no dream, but a reality; I have always thought, since I first beheld you, that I had somewhere, at some unknown time, seen a picture which was like you; but, strange, it was none other than the mother of my own dear Sea-flower!"
"And your eyes have looked upon my mother, Clarence," said she, gazing into his very soul,--"and she has smiled upon you? Oh, I shall love you with a holier love for this!" and the young girl paused, and trembled, as he held her to his heart, for the thought came rushing into her soul,--"Oh, what a fearful thing is this,--this depth of fervent love!"
The morrow came; came to all of our friends who were gathered around the hearthstone of the widow Grosvenor, with joy, for genial rays, other than of a May morning's sun, were in their hearts; yet those indescribable tones, which under any circumstances hang around the word--farewell, were gradually, unawares, jarring, jarring those gentler notes of peace, even before spoken.
"Farewell!"--the mother strained her child to her heart again, and again put her from her, to embrace her more closely. Farewell, came welling up from that proud brother's heart, with the same breath, thanking God for giving him a sister. Broken sobs measured the bitterness of the parting of those down-trodden ones, who, "by an angel of mercy," had been lifted up, to taste one drop of that bliss upon earth, which the white man holds within his power to give or withhold. Farewell!--was it not that one word, which marked the parting of those two, whose hearts had been united above? "Adieu to my island home," said the Sea-flower, and the wild waves whispered,--"we are lonely."