CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
When his pockets were lined, why his life should be mended, The laws he had broken he'd never break more. SEA SONG.
On his return to London, McElvina immediately repaired to the residenceof his patron, that he might enter into the necessary explanationsrelative to the capture of the vessel, and the circumstances which hadproduced his release from the penalties and imprisonment to which he hadbeen subjected by his lawless career. Previous, however, to narratingthe events which occurred upon his arrival, it will be advisable tooffer some remarks relative to McElvina, which, when they have beensuggested to the reader, will serve to remove much of the apparentinconsistency of his character. That a person who, from his earliestchildhood, had been brought up to fraud and deceit, should, of his ownaccord, and so suddenly, return to honesty, may at first appearproblematical. But let it be remembered, that McElvina was not in thesituation of those who, having their choice of good and evil, hadpreferred the latter. From infancy he had been brought up to, and hadheard every encomium upon dishonesty, without having one friend to pointout to him the advantages of pursuing another course. The same Spiritof emulation which would have made him strenuous in the right path,urged him forward in his career of error. If, after his discharge fromthe Philanthropic School, he had had time to observe the advantages, inpractice, of those maxims which had only been inculcated in theory, itis not improbable that he might have reformed: this, however, wasprevented by the injudicious conduct of his master.
But although the principles which had been instilled were notsufficiently powerful, unassisted by reflection, to resist the force ofhabit, the germ, smothered as it was for the time, was not destroyed;and after McElvina's seven years' servitude in a profession remarkablefor candour and sincerity, and in which he had neither temptation noropportunity to return to his evil courses, habit had been counteractedby habit. The tares and wheat were of equal growth. This issubstantiated by the single fact of his inclination to be honest when hefound the pocket-book. A confirmed rogue would never have thought ofreturning it, even if it had not been worth five shillings. It is true,if it had contained hundreds, that, in his distressed circumstances, thetemptation might have been too strong; but this remark by no meansdisproves the assertion, that he had the inclination to be honest."There is a tide in the affairs of men," and it was on this decisionbetween retaining or returning the pocket-book that depended the futuremisery or welfare of McElvina. Fortunately, the sum was not sufficientto turn the nicely balanced scale, and the generosity of old Hornblowconfirmed the victory on the side of virtue. I do not mean to assertthat, for some time subsequent to this transaction, McElvina wasinfluenced by a religious, or even a moral feeling. It was rather byinterested motives that he was convinced; but convinced he was; andwhether he was proud of his return to comparative virtue, or found itnecessary to refresh his memory, his constant injunctions to others tobe honest (upon the same principle that a man who tells a storyrepeatedly eventually believes it to be true) assisted to keep himsteadfast in his good resolutions.
Upon the other points of his character it will be unnecessary to dilate.For his gentlemanly appearance and address he was indebted to nature,who does not always choose to acknowledge the claims which aristocracythinks proper to assert, and occasionally mocks the idea, by bestowinggraces on a cottager which might be envied by the inhabitants of apalace. Of McElvina it may with justice be asserted, that his faultswere those of education--his courage, generosity, and many goodqualities were his own.
McElvina, who knew exactly at what hour of the day his patron would beabroad, took the precaution of not going to the house until the time atwhich he would be certain to find Susan, as usual, in the littleparlour, alone, and occupied with her needle or her book. Thestreet-door had just been opened by the maid to receive some articles ofdomestic use, which a tradesman had sent home; and McElvina, putting hisfinger to his lips to ensure the silence of the girl, who would have runto communicate the welcome intelligence of his arrival, stepped past herinto the passage, and found the door of the little parlour. Gentlyadmitting himself, he discovered Susan, whom he had not disturbed,sitting opposite to the window, with her back towards him. He crept insoftly behind her chair. She was in deep thought; one hand rested onher cheek, and the other held the pen with which she had been arrangingthe accounts of the former week, to submit them, as usual, to her fatheron the Monday evening. Of whom and what she was thinking was, however,soon manifested to McElvina; for she commenced scribbling and drawingwith her pen on the blotting-paper before her, until she at last wroteseveral times, as if she were practising to see how it would look as asignature:
"Susan McElvina."
"Susan McElvina."
"Susan McElvina."
Although delighted at this proof that he was occupying her thoughts,McElvina had the delicacy to retire unperceived, and Susan, as ifrecollecting herself, slightly coloured, as she twisted up the paper andthrew it under the grate; in doing which, she perceived McElvina, whostill remained at the door. A cry of surprise, a deep blush of pleasureover her pale face, and a hand frankly extended, which McElvina couldwith difficulty resist the impulse to raise to his lips, were followedup by the hasty interrogation of--"Why, your arm is in a sling? You didnot say that you were hurt when you wrote from Plymouth?"
"It was not worth mentioning, Susan--it's almost well; but tell me, howdid your father bear the loss of the vessel?"
"Oh! pretty well! But, Captain McElvina, you could not have done me agreater favour, or my father a greater kindness. He has now wound uphis affairs, and intends to retire from all speculation. He haspurchased a house in the country, and I hope, when we go there, that Ishall be more happy, and have better health than I have had of late."
"And what is to become of me?" observed McElvina, gravely.
"Oh, I don't know; you are the best judge of that."
"Well, then, I will confess to you, Susan, that I am just as wellpleased that all this has taken place as you are; for I am not sorry togive up a profession respecting which, between ourselves, I have latelyhad many scruples of conscience. I have not saved much, it is true; butI have enough to live upon, as long as I have no one to take care ofexcept myself."
"You raise yourself in my opinion by saying so," replied Susan;"although it is painful to me to condemn a practice which impeaches myfather. Your courage and talents may be better applied. Thank God,that it is all over."
"But, Susan, you said that you hoped to have better health. Have younot been well?"
"Not very ill," replied Susan; "but I have had a good deal of anxiety.The loss of the vessel,--your capture,--has affected my father, and, ofcourse, has worried me."
The discourse was now interrupted by old Hornblow, who had returned hometo his dinner. He received McElvina in the most friendly manner, andthey sat down to table.
After dinner, McElvina entered into a minute detail of all that hadoccurred, and, as far as he was concerned, with a modesty which enhancedhis meritorious conduct.
Susan listened to the narrative with intense interest; and as soon as itwas over, retired to her room, leaving old Hornblow and McElvina overtheir bottle.
"Well, McElvina, what do you mean to do with yourself?" said the oldman. "You know that Susan has at last persuaded me into retiring frombusiness. I have just concluded the purchase of a little property nearthe seaside, about seven miles from the village of --- in Norfolk--itadjoins the great Rainscourt estate. You know that part of the coast."
"Very well, sir; there is a famous landing-place there, on theRainscourt estate. It was formerly the property of Admiral De Courcy."
"Ah! we don't mean to smuggle any more, so that's no use. I should nothave known that it was near the Rainscourt property, only they insertedit in the particulars of sale, as an advantage; though I confess I donot see any particular advantage in a poor man living too near a richone. But answer my question--what are you going to do with yourself?If
I can assist you, McElvina, I will."
"I do not intend to go to sea any more."
"No! what then? I suppose you would like to marry, and settle on shore?Well, if I can assist you, McElvina, I will."
"You could, indeed, assist me there, sir."
"Oh! Susan, I suppose. Nay, don't colour up; I've seen it long enough,and if I had not meant that it should be so, I should have put an end toit before. You are an honest man, McElvina, and I know nobody to whom Iwould give my girl sooner than to you."
"You have, indeed, removed a weight from my mind, sir, and I hardly knowhow to express my thanks to you for your good wishes; but I have yet toobtain your daughter's consent."
"I know you have; you cannot expect that she will anticipate your wishesas I have done. But as I wish this business to be decided at once, Ishall send her down to you, and I'll take a walk in the mean time. AllI can say is, that if she says she has no mind to you, don't you believeher, for I know better."
"Susan!" said old Hornblow, going to the door.
"Yes, father."
"Come down, my dear, and stay with Captain McElvina. I am obliged to goout."
Old Hornblow reached down his hat, put on his spencer, and departed;while Susan, whose heart told her that so unusual a movement on herfather's part was not without some good reason, descended to the parlourwith a quickened pulse.
"Susan!" said McElvina, who had risen from his chair to receive her, assoon as he heard her footsteps, "I have much to say to you, and I mustbe as brief as I can, for my mind is in too agitated a state to bearwith much temporising. Do me the favour to take a chair, and listenwhile I make you acquainted with what you do not know."
Susan trembled; and the colour flew from her cheeks, as she sat down onthe chair which McElvina handed to her.
"Your father, Susan, took me by the hand at the time that I was in greatdistress, in consequence of my having pleased him by an act of commonhonesty. You know how kind and considerate a patron he has been to mesince, and I have now been in his employ some years. This evening hehas overpowered me with a weight of gratitude, by allowing me to aspireto that which I most covet on earth, and has consented to my robbinghim, if I can, of his greatest treasure. You cannot mistake what Imean. But, previous to my requesting an answer on a point in which myfuture happiness is involved, I have an act of justice to performtowards you, and of conscience towards myself, which must be fulfilled.It is to be candid, and not allow you to be entrapped into an alliancewith a person of whose life you, at present, know but the fair side.
"First, let me state to you, Susan, that my parentage is as obscure asit well can be; and secondly, that the early part of my life was asvicious. I may, indeed, extenuate it when I enter into an explanation,and with great justice: but I have now only stated the facts generally.If you wish me to enter into particulars, much as I shall blush at theexposure, and painful as the task assigned will be, I shall not refuse,even at the risk of losing all I covet by the confession; for, much asmy happiness is at stake, I have too sincere a regard for you to allowyou to contract any engagement with me without making this candidavowal. Now, Susan, answer me frankly--whether, in the first place, youwish me to discover the particulars of my early life; in the next place(if you decline hearing them), whether, after this general avowal, youwill listen to any solicitations, on my part, to induce you to uniteyour future destiny with mine?"
"Captain McElvina, I thank you for your candour," replied Susan, "andwill imitate you in my answer. Your obscure parentage cannot be amatter of consideration to one who has no descent to boast of. That youhave not always been leading a creditable life, I am sorry for; moresorry because I am sure it must be a source of repentance andmortification to you; but I have not an idle curiosity to wish you toimpart that which would not tend to my happiness to divulge. I did oncehear an old gentlewoman, who had been conversant with the world, declarethat if every man was obliged to confess the secrets of his life beforemarriage, few young women would be persuaded to go up to the altar. Ihope it is not true; but whether it is or not, it does not exactly bearupon the subject in agitation. I again thank you for your candour, anddisclaim all wish to know any further. I believe I have now answeredyour question."
"Not yet, Susan,--you have not yet answered the latter part of it."
"What was it?--I don't recollect."
"It was," said McElvina, picking up the piece of twisted paper whichSusan had thrown under the grate, "whether you would listen to myentreaties to sign your name in future as on this paper?"
"Oh, McElvina," cried Susan,--"how unfair--how ungenerous! Now I detestyou!"
"I'll not believe that. I have your own handwriting to the contrary,and I'll appeal to your father."
"Nay, rather than that--you have set me an example of candour, and shallprofit by it. Promise me, McElvina, always to treat me as you have thisday,--and here is my hand."
"Who would not be _honest_, to be so rewarded?" replied McElvina, as heembraced the blushing girl.
"Ah,--all's right, I perceive," cried old Hornblow, who had opened thedoor unperceived. "Come, my children, take my blessing--long may youlive happy and united."