‘And why mustn’t I call on him?’ he said in a displeased tone of voice.
‘I have reasons—private reasons of my own, Alfred, to wish you to refrain from doing so,’ she replied a little awkwardly. ‘I cannot explain them to you just yet; perhaps I may again. Meantime, you must promise me solemnly not to call on him, or send him any more contributions, unless you choose to do so in your own name. On no account must he be made aware that you are “Ariel.” Remember, it was through my advice you scored this first success; continue to follow it, for I can assure you it is for your own good.’
He grumbled a good deal, but in the end agreed to the restriction imposed on him. He held firm, however, to his intention of going to London; and Anne did not press her objections further. He could not understand why she was not more elated at this auspicious beginning of his literary career. In fact, he fancied he saw a pained expression passing over her countenance, when, in the exuberance of his spirits, he enlarged on the brilliancy of his prospects in the metropolis. Somehow or another, the success of ‘A Summer Ramble in Kirkcudbright’ detracted from rather than added to the happiness of the lovers. The slightest possible degree of coldness sprung up between them. He was annoyed, and even felt some distrust at the prohibition put on him regarding the Olympic. That Nan was annoyed at something, was apparent; but whether it was his anxiety to leave her and be off to the scene of his future triumphs, or what it was, was not very apparent. The only one who enjoyed unalloyed satisfaction from the event was old Mr Porteous. The bank draft convinced him more than a thousand arguments that there was money in literature, and that his proposed son-in-law possessed the Open Sesame to its stores. He had far too high an opinion of his old friend the editor’s sense than to suppose he would have given twenty pounds for a short sketch unless it was of real merit. These reflections made him a trifle more cordial to Alfred than he had yet been; and when he and Nan drove him to the railway station, they all parted the best of friends, the lovers promising to correspond punctually as before.
A HUMBLE SPRIG OF NOBILITY.
A RED RIVER STORY.
Towards the close of the last century, Mr Beauchamp, a young Englishman of good family—a friend of Pitt, Fox, Burke, and Sheridan—entered a large mercantile house in London with a view, it was supposed, of ultimately becoming a partner therein. With this firm he passed the earlier years of his manhood. With the single exception of having lost both his parents in his youth, he was regarded as a singularly fortunate individual; and at the age of nineteen he formed a matrimonial engagement with Julia Middleton, a young lady of considerable prospective wealth, and of remarkable personal attractions. But just at the time when an announcement of the marriage was expected by the friends on both sides, Mr Beauchamp disappeared in a mysterious manner; and neither the parents nor Miss Middleton had any explanation of the cause of his disappearance, or whither he had gone. It was, however, but a nine days’ wonder; and all minds, but one, ceased to trouble themselves further about the matter. That one was the poor girl herself, who was deeply attached to her lover. Whenever any hint was thrown out which cast a doubt over the moral rectitude of Henry Beauchamp’s character, she indignantly repudiated the idea, and would believe no evil concerning him that originated in mere conjecture on the part of the speaker.
It must be borne in mind that at the period of which we are writing, international communication was not carried on with the same speed and facility as in these days, and a considerable time elapsed ere it became known that Henry Beauchamp had embarked for Canada. But of his real whereabouts nothing was known for years. The facts we are about to record were divulged to us by a lady to whom we shall hereafter refer. He had, it appeared, entered into business with a Fur Trading Company, and with them he passed many years in a country called ‘The Kepigong,’ between Lake Superior and James Bay. Half a century ago, traders were often men of low type, who led lax and vicious lives. As ill-luck would have it, it was amongst such a class that the young adventurer chanced to fall. Out in that wild territory, with no sort of restraint on his actions, in the midst of lawless and strange companions, he often fell a victim to their evil influence and example, and his very weakness and ignorance made him an easy prey to their wiles and cupidity. If he made money, they cheated him out of it. He was often reduced to the brink of starvation; and at one period he subsisted for two months on a miserable species of fish called ‘suckers.’
After countless trials and vicissitudes, he obtained employment at Lake Winnipeg, where he passed another decade; but even there his evil genius seemed to pursue him, for he received accidentally the contents of a loaded gun in his leg, which wound caused him at times great suffering throughout his whole life. But he was a man of pluck and courage, and would never yield to any obstacle which perseverance could overcome. Having resolved to try his fortunes on his own account in a district involving several hundred miles of travel, he provided himself with a couple of horses, and set out attended by one serving-man. On they went till nightfall through a wild uninhabited region, where nature asserted her right to repose in their wearied limbs and failing spirits. So, having first picketed their horses, they lay down to rest in the best shelter they could find. Feeling amply refreshed by daybreak, they determined to continue their journey with no further halt till eventide. But alas for their horses! The animals had either decamped or been stolen, probably the former. After some cogitation as to the next step to be taken, Mr Beauchamp decided to send his servant in quest of the animals, whilst he remained at his post. The day passed, the night pressed onwards, and morning dawned without either horses or man having appeared. Unprovided with a compass, chart, or guide of any description, Mr Beauchamp then felt how futile his hopes must prove—that the poor man had probably lost his way, and that there would be no more meeting between them.
For a while utterly disconsolate, the solitary traveller bethought him of retracing his steps; but when he attempted to walk, he found himself so broken down by fatigue and over-exertion that he could only limp along, or drag his wearied body on all-fours. Finally, ‘worn out,’ as he himself expressed it, ‘both in body and mind,’ and when within but ten miles of his trading-post, he lay down with the fervent hope that death would put an end to such torture; but not liking the idea of his body being devoured by wild animals, he crawled about to get together branches of trees wherewith to cover himself. But in spite of all the man had suffered, death was still to be balked of its prey. Some Red Indians fortunately came upon him, and by his discoverers he was kindly cared for and nourished, and taken to his post, where, after some weeks, he gradually recovered.
Was it retribution or destiny, or what, that made him again such a cruel martyr to circumstances in the next episode of his career? After Lord Selkirk began to colonise the Red River, Mr Beauchamp gave up his prospects in the Fur Company and turned settler. In opposition to the Hudson’s Bay Company, another had been formed, called the North-West Company. Between the two there was great rivalry and jealousy. At the instigation of some of its people, Mr Beauchamp was made prisoner, thrown into a dungeon in Fort-William, and from thence taken to Montese, where his alleged trial was to take place, without his ever having been told of the crime whereof he was accused. After weeks of weary waiting and dread expectation, he was set at liberty without a single question having been put to him, the sole object of his oppressors having been to detach him from Lord Selkirk’s interest, which they considered was synonymous with that of the Hudson’s Bay Company.