Again the stranger’s eyes fell upon me with a look I could not fathom. I grew uneasy, and was not sorry when about sunset we turned into the long, shady avenue which led up to the house. As if by magic, a wondrous change had been wrought in my absence; for everything around the building wore an air of neatness and thrift, which betokened that there was now a head to manage and direct. Herbert, too, was perfectly sober, while Anna’s face was far happier than when I last saw her. The cause of this she explained to me the first moment we were alone. Herbert had signed the pledge! Had become a sober man, and all through the exertions of Mr. Watson, whom she pronounced an angel in disguise. And, truly, his influence over Herbert was wonderful; for never did an anxious mother watch over her sickly child more carefully than Mr. Watson watched over his employer, shielding him from temptation, and gently leading him in the path of rectitude; until the wine-flush on his cheek gave way to a hue of health; the redness of his eyes was gone, and conscious of the victory he had achieved, he stood forth again in all the pride of his manhood, sober, virtuous, and happy.
Such was the state of things, when, early in April, we received invitations to attend a wedding party at the house of Judge Perkins, whose broad acres and heavy purse of gold had purchased for him a fair young girl, just his eldest daughter’s age! It was to be a splendid affair, for all the élite of Rockland were bidden, and, as a matter of course, I forthwith commenced looking over my wardrobe, and declaring I had nothing to wear! Anna, on the contrary, did not seem at all interested, and when I questioned her for her indifference, she replied, “What if they have wine, and Herbert should drink?”
“They wouldn’t have wine,” I told her, for Judge Perkins was a staunch temperance man, and it was not probable that he would do anything so inconsistent with his profession.
After a time she became convinced that her fears were groundless, and began with me to anticipate the expected pleasure. Henry Watson was not invited, but he carried us to the door, going himself to the hotel to wait until we were ready to return. Just as he was leaving us he whispered a few words to Herbert, who replied, gaily, “Never fear for me. Judge Perkins isn’t the man to throw temptation in my way.”
Ah, would it had been so! Would that the sparkling champagne, the ruby wine, and the foaming ale had not graced that marriage feast, for then, perchance, one grave at least would not have been made so soon, nor the widow’s weeds worn by my sister ere the bloom of youth had faded from her brow.
I saw her cheek pale as we entered the supper-room, but when amid the din and uproar which succeeded the drawing of the corks, Herbert stood firm to his pledge, refusing to drink, though urged to do so, the color came back to her face, and her eye proudly followed her husband, whose easy manners made him a favorite, and who, with ready tact, moved among the guests, doing far more towards their entertainment than the master of the house himself. He was standing near the bride, a beautiful young creature, with a sunny face and radiant smile. Diamonds were wreathed in her shining curls, and shone upon her snowy arms, while the costly veil almost swept the floor, and enveloped her slight form like a misty cloud. Very affable and polite had she been to Herbert, and now as he approached her, she took from the table two goblets of wine, and passing one to him, said, “Mr. Langley, I am sure, will not refuse to drink with me, the bride?”
To refuse would have seemed uncourteous; and so, with a hasty glance at his wife, he drank the health of the lovely woman, who, in an angel’s guise, unconsciously tempted him to ruin. Involuntarily, Anna gasped as if for breath, while she started quickly forward to stay the rash act; but she was too late, and with a faint moan of anguish, she turned away to hide her tears. One taste awoke the slumbering demon, and set his veins on fire; and when at midnight Mr. Watson came for us, he took the insensible man in his arms and placed him in the wagon, beside the weeping wife, whose fond hopes were now wrecked for ever.
From that time Herbert made no further attempt at reform, but night after night, came reeling home, sometimes singing a bacchanalian song, and again rending the air with curses, until at last poor Anna learned to tremble at the sound of his footsteps; for he daily grew more and more violent and unmanageable, defying every one save Mr. Watson, who possessed over him a singular power. Thus the spring and summer passed away, and when the autumn came few would have recognized the once handsome Herbert Langley in the bloated creature, who, weak and feeble, lay all day long in bed, begging for “brandy—more brandy” to fan the flame which was feeding upon his vitals. Sometimes in his fits of frenzy he would spring upon the floor, and shriek for us to save him from the crawling serpents, which, with forked tongues and little green eyes, hissed at him from all parts of the room. Again he would say that the spirit of the murdered maiden was before him, whispering to him unutterable things concerning the drunkard’s home beyond the grave, while goblins of every conceivable form beckoned him to come and join their hideous dance.
Once, when he was more quiet than usual, he said to me, “Rose, do you remember what I once told you about my mother’s joining the church and reading her prayers?”
I replied in the affirmative, and he continued—“Do you know I’d give the world, were it mine, if I could hear her pray for me once more. It would cool my scorching brain, and if I dare pray for myself, I know I should be healed; but I cannot, for the moment I attempt it, there are legions of imps who flit and grin before my face, while one, larger and more unseemly than the rest, shouts in my ears, ‘Lost, lost, to all eternity!’ there—look, don’t you hear it?” and, shivering with fright, he covered his head with the bed-clothes.