Nequa; or, The Problem of the Ages

by Alcanoan O. Grigsby; Mary P. Lowe

"He promised to write to me at every available opportunity, and for the first few months his letters came regularly, always couched in the most affectionate terms and often referring to our coming marriage as the beacon light of all his fondest hopes. Then his letters ceased altogether, and though I wrote repeatedly to him, I never heard from him again.

"As the months rolled by, often at noontime, when the music of birds filled the air, and all was life and light, or at eventide, when the mellow twilight was over hill and dale, and the activities and light of day were giving place to the stillness and shadows of night; when the perfume of the flowers filled the air, or the yellow leaves of autumn fell about my feet, I, the forsaken, and perhaps forgotten, could have been seen seated beneath some broad-spreading tree, where we used to read and converse together. I would sit thus for hours in silent meditation, recalling the tender words and caresses of my absent lover. Then arising sad and disconsolate, I would leave the lonely spot and try to bravely wait and hope for the word that never came.

"My guardian professed great sympathy, and with seemingly the most poignant grief informed me that his nephew had committed some desperate crime in foreign lands for which he had been tried, convicted and sent to prison for a long term of years. Yet, with this black shadow resting upon him, the truth of which was vouched for by his uncle, I continued to write as it had been agreed between us and many were the tear stained missives I addressed to him, hoping that comrades on the ship would see that they reached him. Though he might be a criminal and an out-cast from his kind, my affection for him never wavered for a single moment.

"My guardian, in order to make his deception more complete, pretended to deplore the actions of his nephew, and even his own unthoughtfulness, in telling me of them, and thus causing me so much suffering. He seemed to be aging very fast, and I feared that he, the only friend to whom I had never looked in vain for kindly counsel and advice, was falling into a decline from the crushing weight of what I believed to be our common sorrow, and consequently, my woman's sympathy and pity went out to him in what I regarded his disconsolate lot.

"He fully realized the sincere and all pervading character of my sympathy for him, and took advantage of every opportunity to impress me with the dangerous state of his health. He intimated that the chief cause of his suffering, aside from the grief caused by the wayward and criminal course of his nephew, was the agony that it gave him to leave me all alone in the world, with no one to guard and protect me from the manifold dangers that threatened an inexperienced girl when thrown upon her own resources in this cold and unfeeling world. He did not ask my affection, except as a daughter, but suggested that under the circumstances, I had better become his wife, and then my position in the world, as his widow, would be secure. I would be protected against the intrusion of society and would be alone, as he felt sure I so much desired.

"'You are already in mourning,' he said, 'and yet, your grief is so indefinable that no one will be disposed to respect it as I do. Besides, situated as you now are, with no female companion, you are in some sense at the mercy of the evil-minded who never lose an opportunity to asperse the character of the good and pure, while as my wife, you would be safe, and your position honorable in the eyes of the world. I could then, even more than now, console you, and sympathize with you in your affliction.'

"I told him that I had never thought of my position as being in the least compromising, in the home of my lawful guardian, and if it was so, I would go away at once, but I could not be his wife. He besought me again and again, and I continued to give him the same answer. In the meantime, I was greatly troubled by what he had intimated regarding my compromising position in his house without a female companion. I had all faith and confidence in his unselfish and paternal regard for my welfare. For years, he had treated me with marked kindness and consideration, such as a loved daughter might expect from a kind and loving father. For this, I regarded him with the filial affection of a devoted and trusting nature. To leave him now, when stricken with sorrow and apparently with one foot in the grave, was repugnant to my feelings, as it seemed to me that it would be an act of base ingratitude, and yet, it was brought to my ears that people were beginning to make flippant and disrespectful remarks concerning my position. Yet I felt that I could not be so cruel as to forsake him now. The situation was a most trying one to me, as I never for a moment suspicioned that it had been made up for the occasion to influence my feelings.

"He continued his importunities under the guise of paternal counsel for my own good as a loved daughter. One day he brought me a newspaper clipping which stated that Raphael Ganoe had died in prison. He seemed to be so grief stricken and depressed, that for many days I feared that he would drop off at any moment, and he seemed so entirely dependent upon me that I dared not leave him for a moment, and yet my position was such that I must necessarily often give place to others, who had no such regard for him as I had. If I were his wife in the eyes of the world, I might do much more for him, and believing that my affianced husband was dead, I at last consented to become his legal wife and the ceremony was performed while he lay as I believed, on his dying bed.

"Two hours later, feeling lonely and disconsolate, I had gone into the library and taken a seat in one of the deep windows behind the curtains, where I was hidden from view.

"He seemed to have fallen asleep and my long watch was wearing upon me. I was exhausted and took this opportunity for rest and communion with my own thoughts. I soon fell into a reverie, in which the past came up before me like a panorama, and again the fancy I was with my handsome, happy lover—when suddenly I heard voices in the adjoining room where I had left my guardian asleep. A strange voice asked: