And Detroit is destined to be remembered, as the place of the battle ground of one of the most remarkable and decisive actions that took place during the late war.
Shortly after this action was over, Bonville, who was one among the soldiers, returned to New-York. He furnished plausible reason, and obtained a furlough from his commanding officer, for leave of absence. In the meantime, he thought again to visit Alida; he had at present a double motive again to address her,—and if he should prove successful, her expected fortune would make him ample amends for what he had squandered away in scenes of folly. And if the father of Theodore had become a bankrupt by misfortune, he had now almost become one by dissipation and extravagance.
Albert had been extremely busy through the day, and was just returning home from his store in Pearl-street one evening, when he met Bonville in Broadway on his way to his father’s. He accosted him in a very friendly manner, and then interrogated him by numerous questions concerning the family,—and very inquisitively with regard to his sister. Albert made no reply that gave him any particular satisfaction. When they arrived at the house, they found no company except Mr. More. Alida was truly shocked and surprised at this unexpected visit from Bonville, who she had no idea was in town. After making to her his compliments, and expressing his pleasure at finding her well, he by degrees drew her into a conversation which lasted the greater part of the evening. He offered an ill-timed consolation for the absence of Theodore, and affected much regret,—although he said his case was not as deplorable as that of many others, as he was still among the living. That though he was a person he could not esteem, still he had felt so far interested in his welfare, as to make particular inquiries how the British were accustomed to treat their prisoners. He then gave some dark intimations against his general character, which could not fail to throw over the mind of Alida a deep dejection.
She was now apprised of the fate of Theodore:—She was unable to suppress the feelings of sorrow, that these words of Bonville had excited. She remained silent; wholly engrossed by the confused thoughts and sad ideas, that arose in succession in her mind, till at length she became regardless of all around her.
The penetrating eyes of Mr. More were fixed upon her during this conversation. He seemed wholly insensible to every other object. He was apprehensive that her heart was insensible to the strong affection that pervaded his own,—and he thought should she prove incapable of loving like himself, and should become devoted to another, thoughts he could scarcely endure,—though they sometimes impressed the idea that she might never be interested in his favour. Hope would again flatter him with the pleasing thought, that her bosom may have been fraught with congenial feelings, and her heart beat with sensations even more fervent than his own. Her image filled his waking thoughts, and disturbed with visionary happiness his sleeping hours,—yet it seemed to his devoted mind the love of merit alone; and he imagined that while she was happy, he could never be altogether otherwise.
After Mr. More and Bonville had taken leave, and her parents had retired to rest, Alida remained by the fire-side till a late hour. She was meditating on recent circumstances, on the many late trying events which had crowded so rapidly that they could scarcely be said to succeed each other, and which had given so great variety to her life, that for years had rolled on in the same peaceful, unvaried course. She felt displeased at Bonville for his insinuations concerning Theodore, which were ungenerous and ill-natured,—while he seemed to flatter himself with the idea that she would become forgetful of him. He had hitherto yielded to every selfish propensity, without once seriously reflecting on its consequences to himself or others. His understanding, warped by prejudice, and without control, often misled him, and the superiority an elevated station gave him caused him to neglect to practice those better principles of which his nature might have been capable. His pride would suffer to see Alida united to another, therefore he was determined not to relinquish her. He concluded that finally she would look upon Theodore with indifference, and become favourably disposed towards himself; while his regard for her should prove unchangeable. That, unacquainted as she was with the world, she would at length be brought to accede to his wishes. That his rhetoric operating on her inexperience would ultimately influence her in his favour.
[CHAPTER XVI.]
“Dejection pales thy rosy cheek,
And steals the lustre from thine eye;
The minutes of each tedious hour,