"Who is this Colonel Halliday?" I asked. "You all seem to have some doubt of him."
"Why, don't you know?" cried Billy Byles. "He was Bob Thornton's second in the duel with you."
"He acted in a very gentlemanly manner there," I said.
"Ay, that might be," answered Mr. Thornton. "But he's a wild, unscrupulous fellow, notwithstanding. He certainly was colleaguing with Robert Thornton when that worthy tried to cheat her out of her whole property. Perhaps you do not know that he proposed to marry her, when she was not sixteen, and we had afterwards every reason to believe that there was an understanding between him and Robert, that they should share the spoils between them.
"Bessy, however, settled the matter for herself; for she told him she would sooner marry a rattlesnake; and I do not think he has ever forgiven the disgust--ay, the disgust, that is the only word--which she expressed towards him. She was quite a girl then, and a wild girl too; and she spoke her mind more freely, perhaps, than she would have done, had she been older. There is no use of making enemies in this world, even of people we do not desire for friends." Mr. Thornton fell into a somewhat dark and gloomy reverie, and it may easily be imagined that my thoughts were not particularly pleasant. After a moment or two, however, he said,--
"Well, Sir Richard, it is now near one o'clock. You had better go to bed, and try to rest. I will do the same. We will both be up early to-morrow; and, after having taken counsel with our pillows, we may be able to devise some plan for tracing poor Bessy out." He was turning away, when suddenly he held out his hand to me in his frank, kindly way, saying,--
"Do not alarm yourself, my dear sir. I have no doubt our dear girl is safe. If she had met with any harm from these misguided people, her body would have been left where they murdered her. They have taken no pains to conceal their deeds. All I want to get rid of is this horrible feeling of uncertainty; though, indeed, we are in the same case with a hundred others in this town; for there is hardly a family that is not doubtful and anxious about some one of its members. I am not one to use the name of God on every occasion; but trust in Him is, in such circumstances, our best stay and only consolation." Thus saying, he left me; and his last words recalled to my mind the better and the surer sources of hope and comfort, which had been too much forgotten in the excitement and anxiety of the last few hours. A mattress and a blanket were brought in for me, to Mr. Byles's room; and though he, in his universal good humour, would fain have had me take his bed, I cast myself down upon my lowly couch, and resolutely tried to sleep. I had by no means recovered my full strength; I was weary and exhausted with the labours of the day and with want of food. Perhaps in such a state of fatigue, the glass of porter which I had taken had more effect than it otherwise would have produced; and though I was half angry with myself when I felt the leaden weight pressing down my eyelids, I was soon in a profound sleep. I do not believe, if an axe had been suspended over my head, or a pistol presented at my ear, I could have kept myself awake.
[CHAPTER XXX.]
Though my sleep was dead, heavy, and dreamless, it lasted not long. I awoke with a sudden start and a sense of terrible apprehension. I am certain, indeed, that even when no visions perpetuate vaguely, during slumber, the thoughts which have occupied us waking, the sensations of the heart--if I may make such a distinction between heart and mind--persist, while all the ordinary faculties are steeped in oblivion, and knock at the doors of the brain till they awake us. I struck my repeater, and found it a quarter past three; and although I knew that in this latitude an hour or two of darkness had to intervene before the first dawn of day, I could find no more refuge in sleep. I lay there, and revolved the circumstances in which I was placed, and, as I imagined, all the probabilities--nay, even the possibilities--of the case. But I made no progress towards any conclusion. The prospect was as dark and dreary as ever! perhaps more so. At least it seemed so to me; for I know no more unpleasant hour to wake at, with feelings of apprehension on the mind, than three o'clock in the morning. It seems as if all the grizzly phantoms of imagination and dread gather thickly round our bed; and the dark sensation of that gloomy Nemesis, which hangs for ever brooding over human happiness, is felt more powerfully than at any other time. I struggled hard against it. I tried to put my trust in God. But there are moments when Faith and Hope seem darkened; when God's inspiring grace seems withdrawn; when the power of the prince of the air seems mighty over us in the darkness, and every image that can shake our trust is presented with appalling force.
"How many," I thought, "had the very night before risen from their knees to lay themselves down to rest with hope and faith in Him in whom I now strove to put my trust, and had never risen but to receive the death-blow of the murderer, or to weep over the ruin of every edifice of love. Oh, man! man! here lies our fault. Our hopes, our wishes, our faith, our trust, go not beyond this world. The dark chasm of the grave stops human thought and human feeling in their course, and we neither fully trust nor believe beyond." Such, at least, was the case with myself at that time. And the next hour and a half that passed, till the grey glimmer of the dawn began to appear, were amongst the most melancholy I ever endured in my life. Oh, Bessy! if you could have seen my heart then, you would have known more than words could ever convey. Before the sun was fully risen, Mr. Byles and I had quite a little levee around the door of our room. The first who appeared was Zed, who had found out where I had housed myself; and, coming with the first rays of dawn, had roused our worthy host and hostess from their short slumber. The second was good Mr. Jacobus himself, who reported that he had been able to learn very little, notwithstanding his utmost endeavours. All, in short, he had obtained was a vague rumour that Miss Davenport had been seen somewhere with old Jenny, Aunt Bab's cook; and that she would most probably be found with the other servants of the family at the sheriff's plantation, about seven or eight miles off. Next to him came Mr. Thornton, who had conducted his inquiries better, and had more reasonable suggestions to make than any of us. He cleared the room of the other two visitors; and then, seating himself in the only vacant corner, said,--