This arrangement—now that she was satisfied of Harry Jackson's good character—shed a gleam of comfort on Hannah's dark path; for her path lay dark before her now. The host of the King's Arms was never happy out of Hammond's company; the truth being, that the unfortunate man had grown really fond of George. Hannah's frowns and coldness could not keep him away; and if she, by persuasion or stratagem, contrived to detain her husband at home, Jackson invariably came in search of him. Then, besides all the other griefs and discomforts attending such a state of things, the business of the house began to decline. The respectable townspeople did not like to frequent an inn where the host was always intoxicated; and, to many who had known them in happier days, George Hammond's bloated face, and Hannah's pinched features were not pleasant to behold. If matters went on at this rate, pecuniary embarrassments were not unlikely to be added to her other afflictions; and her dread of this was materially increased by finding that Hammond was beginning to tamper with a small sum of money they had placed in the Tutton Bank, under a mutual agreement that it should remain there, untouched, until Esther's marriage. All this misery she owed to Jackson, even to the last item in her troubles; for she discovered that the money had been drawn out to lend to him.
Matters went on in this way from bad to worse. Mrs. Hammond was miserable, and Mrs. Jackson was breaking her heart, and the business of both houses was going to the dogs, when Hannah resolved on a last effort to avert the impending ruin.
Had she thought her husband utterly corrupted, her scheme would have been vain; but he had moments of remorse still, in which his good heart got the ascendant: and, persuaded by her unshaken love, she believed that if she could but wean him from Jackson's company, he might, by her attachment and vigilance, be reclaimed. It so happened that she had a cousin married to a farmer in a distant part of England; and, one day, taking George in a moment of sobriety and repentance, she made a strong appeal to his feelings and affections. “I know,” she said, “that it is Jackson who tempts you to drink, when of yourself you might resist; and I do believe that if the habit were once broken, and your acquaintance with him ceased, we might all be saved yet. Go to my cousin's; she has often invited us, and I'll write to her and say you are ordered change of air for your health. You'll see no drinking there; her husband's a very sober man. You like farming—go into the fields and the gardens, and work with the spade and plough. It will make another man of you, George. When you return, we'll break with Jackson entirely.”
The appeal prevailed. George sobbed, threw his arms round his wife's neck, and vowed that he would never touch liquor again. Eventually, with his wardrobe brushed up, he was dispatched on this hopeful expedition.
Such a course of life as this, however, could not be carried on without some evil consequences to himself as well as others; and in spite of the efforts of his miserable wife to keep things together, the house was ill-conducted; custom forsook it; and although, unknown to Hannah, Jackson had by degrees extracted from Hammond every penny of the savings deposited in the bank, he was distressed for money, and could not keep his creditors quiet. Added to this, he fell ill with a severe attack of delirium tremens, and, when matters were at the worst with him, and they thought he would die, Hannah's energetic mind began to form plans for the future. Henry and Esther should be married; the money in the Bank should pay off the most pressing liabilities; the care and industry of the young people should restore the house to its former flourishing condition; Mrs. Jackson, the mother, could live with her son, and they should all be once more happy—for, the tempter gone, George would be sober. Was he not sober now at the pleasant farm-house, where he was living with her friends? Did not every letter of her cousin's praise him, and assure her that he never expressed a desire to drink; and that even although they had been to a christening in the neighborhood, where there was a vast deal of conviviality, George had been so abstemious and cautious, as to delight them all?
But, alas! Jackson recovered, and with his recovery Hannah's plans were frustrated; but she had a fertile brain; and, where the welfare of those she loved was concerned, her energies never slept. She learnt from Harry, that Jackson's creditors were more pressing than ever, and that he did not know which way to turn for money. It was quite certain that if nothing were done, his property would be seized, and his wife turned into the street. Might she not take advantage of these embarrassments, and execute her original plan on condition of his abandoning the neighborhood altogether? Next to his death, his removal would be the best thing. Harry and [pg 524] Esther would keep the House; the creditors would be indulgent; and, among the family, they would make an allowance for the support of Mr. and Mrs. Jackson in some distant spot; any sacrifice being preferable to the certain ruin that impended. Mrs. Jackson was afraid that her husband would not consent to the scheme; but she was mistaken; people who are the victims of intemperance are easily won to acquiesce in any measures that are proposed for their advantage; their adherence to them is another affair. But Hannah set to work; and as there was a general sympathy with her laudable endeavor, she met with full success. Such portions of the debt as they could not pay, Harry and Hammond were to become answerable for; and as the business of the King's Arms had once been a profitable one, there was every reason to hope that the young man might lure back the customers, in process of time release his father-in-law from his bond, and find himself a free and prosperous man.
Thus much done, there was no time to be lost. Jackson, well and drunk, might refuse to do what Jackson, sick and sober, had consented to do; so a place was found for himself and his wife, in a part of the country inhabited by her relations, in order that, as she said, if Jackson kept on drinking, she might not be quite alone in the world. Arrangements were then made for the marriage of the young people.
And what said Hammond to all this? He wrote home that he would consent to any thing his wife proposed, and he hoped it might answer as well as she expected. Hannah was sure it would; but, in order to avoid the possibility of mischief, she arranged that her husband should not return until the eve of the wedding; while she had made it a condition that Jackson should depart immediately after it; thus excluding all possibility of a renewal of intercourse.
On a fine evening in June, the mother and daughter sat under the porch, hand-in-hand, watching for the coach that was to drop George at the door. How happy they were! Harry had just left them, in order to spend the last evening with his poor mother, and, as he said, to have an eye to his father's proceedings. Young George was still at his country house; but he was to have a holiday the next day, and to be present at the wedding.
At length there was a sound of wheels, and “Here's the coach!” cried both the women, as the well-loaded vehicle turned round a corner of the road, and appeared in sight. But, to their disappointment, instead of pulling up, the driver only flung down the old portmanteau, and pointed with his thumb toward the town, intimating that he had dropt the owner of it, there, as he passed.