“Husband!” unworthy as I believed the man to be, you would scarcely credit me were I to describe the sense of relief and delight with which my heart expanded as that one word met my eye. It seemed as if the voices of a thousand blessed angels were repeating it in melody and gratulations to my ear; in the glance that revealed it to me, I saw a creature rescued from the abyss of the darkest and most irretrievable of earthly ruin, and standing pure and safe in the light of heaven; my heart swelled within me, and tears rose to my eyes.
While those emotions agitated me, Captain Jennings continued lost in thought, and at last he said:—
“Ay, it is better to write;” and tearing off the outer leaf of the note which lay before him, he traced a line or two with his pencil, but checking himself, again paused, crumpled the note he had just commenced, and that he had received, together, applied them to the candle, and dropped them blazing into the grate.
“Say that I will be with her as soon as I can possibly get away,” said he; “but where is the house—where is she?” he added, suddenly. I described by the landmarks with which he was acquainted, exactly the spot where the poor young lady was to be found.
“Then, just say as I told you, that I will be there without one moment’s avoidable delay.”
Thus speaking, he hastily led the way to the hall-door; for some of his half-tipsy guests were beginning to call for him, and, as it seemed, were about making an exploratory excursion from the drawing-room. Muttering a broken curse upon them all, he opened the door, and I heard him, as I walked down the stone steps, respond in tones of affected gaiety to their clamorous challenge. With the rapid pace which indicates an excited mind, I retraced my steps; the bells were chiming, and the watchmen drowsily calling four o’clock, as I approached the scene of my strange adventure.
“Thank God, at all events,” I fervently murmured—“thank God, the poor creature is not disgraced and ruined; a strange, perplexing, and, I fear, a most imprudent affair it unquestionably is; but, after all, what an escape!—how much to be thankful for!”
I had now reached my destination, and was admitted. The young lady, I was told, was doing well; so I delivered my message, and took my place in the parlour as before, resolved to await the departure of Doctor Robertson, who was still upstairs, and to explain, as was my fixed intention, the foolish accident which had involved me in the affair; acquaint him with my name and address, and assure him of my secrecy.
I had not waited very long, when I heard him, with creaking steps, slowly descending the stairs, issuing, as he did, some parting directions to the woman who attended him with the candle.
“I shall look in in the evening, after dark,” he said; “everything promises fairly—so that will do; I’ll make my own way out; never mind—good morning.”
As the worthy man uttered these gruff civilities, I presented myself at the foot of the stairs, and requested a word with him in the parlour. Merely directing me to be brief, and with a prodigious yawn, he accompanied me thither. I then proceeded to lay before him a full statement concerning myself, and the causes of my participation in the business. He was first disposed to be angry; but my own frankness, and perhaps an old acquaintance with my father, an intimate of his youth, disarmed him, and my explanation ended by his shaking me good-naturedly by the hand.
“Egad, I believe I have been in greater fault of the two, young gentleman, in this affair,” he said; “for I undertook my part with my eyes open; and a troublesome and an awkward part it must e’en prove, at the best. But,” he added, in a changed tone, “with all its trouble and awkwardness, I would not have declined it for a thousand pounds; poor little thing; no, no; this was a matter of life or death; the poor child reposed confidence in me, and trusted me with the secret of her situation, under the seal of silence. I could not honourably divulge it; nor could I, with one particle of common humanity, refuse my aid; her life was in the balance; she would have had none attend her but me, and without proper assistance must have died; to have declined that aid, through any consideration of consequences affecting myself, would have been the act of a respectable scoundrel; it would have been to perpetrate a prudential murder.”
As he spoke, there came a hurried knocking at the hall-door.
“This must be Captain Jennings,” I said.
“Umph! he must not go up suddenly; they must prepare her for the meeting,” said he; and, opening the chamber door, he said to the attendant—
“Show Captain Jennings, if this be he, into this chamber; and as soon as you think the lady sufficiently recovered to see him, you can tell him so.”
With this direction, he reentered the room, and walked up and down once or twice, with rather an inauspicious expression of countenance, while he awaited the appearance of the new visitor; he had not long to wait; the door opened, and Captain Jennings, muffled in a cloak, entered the comfortless apartment.
Doctor Robertson received him with a stiff nod. After a few brief inquiries, rather drily answered, the physician said, in reply to a significant glance which Jennings had directed toward me—
“You need have no apprehension on account of his presence,
