Chapter XVII
I had no inclination nor power to move from this spot. For more than anhour, my faculties and limbs seemed to be deprived of all activity.The door below creaked on its hinges, and steps ascended the stairs. Mywandering and confused thoughts were instantly recalled by these sounds,and dropping the curtain of the bed, I moved to a part of the roomwhere any one who entered should be visible; such are the vibrations ofsentiment, that notwithstanding the seeming fulfilment of my fears,and increase of my danger, I was conscious, on this occasion, to noturbulence but that of curiosity.
At length he entered the apartment, and I recognized my brother. It wasthe same Wieland whom I had ever seen. Yet his features were pervaded bya new expression. I supposed him unacquainted with the fate of his wife,and his appearance confirmed this persuasion. A brow expanding intoexultation I had hitherto never seen in him, yet such a brow did he nowwear. Not only was he unapprized of the disaster that had happened,but some joyous occurrence had betided. What a reverse was preparing toannihilate his transitory bliss! No husband ever doated more fondly, forno wife ever claimed so boundless a devotion. I was not uncertain as tothe effects to flow from the discovery of her fate. I confided not atall in the efforts of his reason or his piety. There were few evilswhich his modes of thinking would not disarm of their sting; but here,all opiates to grief, and all compellers of patience were vain. Thisspectacle would be unavoidably followed by the outrages of desperation,and a rushing to death.
For the present, I neglected to ask myself what motive brought himhither. I was only fearful of the effects to flow from the sight of thedead. Yet could it be long concealed from him? Some time and speedilyhe would obtain this knowledge. No stratagems could considerably orusefully prolong his ignorance. All that could be sought was to takeaway the abruptness of the change, and shut out the confusion ofdespair, and the inroads of madness: but I knew my brother, and knewthat all exertions to console him would be fruitless.
What could I say? I was mute, and poured forth those tears on hisaccount, which my own unhappiness had been unable to extort. In themidst of my tears, I was not unobservant of his motions. These were ofa nature to rouse some other sentiment than grief or, at least, to mixwith it a portion of astonishment.
His countenance suddenly became troubled. His hands were clasped with aforce that left the print of his nails in his flesh. His eyes were fixedon my feet. His brain seemed to swell beyond its continent. He did notcease to breathe, but his breath was stifled into groans. I had neverwitnessed the hurricane of human passions. My element had, till lately,been all sunshine and calm. I was unconversant with the altitudes andenergies of sentiment, and was transfixed with inexplicable horror bythe symptoms which I now beheld.
After a silence and a conflict which I could not interpret, he liftedhis eyes to heaven, and in broken accents exclaimed, "This is too much!Any victim but this, and thy will be done. Have I not sufficientlyattested my faith and my obedience? She that is gone, they that haveperished, were linked with my soul by ties which only thy command wouldhave broken; but here is sanctity and excellence surpassing human. Thisworkmanship is thine, and it cannot be thy will to heap it into ruins."
Here suddenly unclasping his hands, he struck one of them against hisforehead, and continued--"Wretch! who made thee quicksighted in thecouncils of thy Maker? Deliverance from mortal fetters is awarded tothis being, and thou art the minister of this decree."
So saying, Wieland advanced towards me. His words and his motions werewithout meaning, except on one supposition. The death of Catharine wasalready known to him, and that knowledge, as might have been suspected,had destroyed his reason. I had feared nothing less; but now that Ibeheld the extinction of a mind the most luminous and penetrating thatever dignified the human form, my sensations were fraught with new andinsupportable anguish.
I had not time to reflect in what way my own safety would be effected bythis revolution, or what I had to dread from the wild conceptions of amadman. He advanced towards me. Some hollow noises were wafted by thebreeze. Confused clamours were succeeded by many feet traversing thegrass, and then crowding intO the piazza.
These sounds suspended my brother's purpose, and he stood to listen. Thesignals multiplied and grew louder; perceiving this, he turned from me,and hurried out of my sight. All about me was pregnant with motives toastonishment. My sister's corpse, Wieland's frantic demeanour, and, atlength, this crowd of visitants so little accorded with my foresight,that my mental progress was stopped. The impulse had ceased which wasaccustomed to give motion and order to my thoughts.
Footsteps thronged upon the stairs, and presently many faces shewedthemselves within the door of my apartment. These looks were full ofalarm and watchfulness. They pryed into corners as if in search ofsome fugitive; next their gaze was fixed upon me, and betokened all thevehemence of terror and pity. For a time I questioned whether these werenot shapes and faces like that which I had seen at the bottom of thestairs, creatures of my fancy or airy existences. My eye wandered fromone to another, till at length it fell on a countenance which I wellknew. It was that of Mr. Hallet. This man was a distant kinsman of mymother, venerable for his age, his uprightness, and sagacity. He hadlong discharged the functions of a magistrate and good citizen. If anyterrors remained, his presence was sufficient to dispel them.
He approached, took my hand with a compassionate air, and said in a lowvoice, "Where, my dear Clara, are your brother and sister?" I made noanswer, but pointed to the bed. His attendants drew aside the curtain,and while their eyes glared with horror at the spectacle which theybeheld, those of Mr. Hallet overflowed with tears.
After considerable pause, he once more turned to me. "My dear girl,this sight is not for you. Can you confide in my care, and that of Mrs.Baynton's? We will see performed all that circumstances require."
I made strenuous opposition to this request. I insisted on remainingnear her till she were interred. His remonstrances, however, and my ownfeelings, shewed me the propriety of a temporary dereliction. Louisastood in need of a comforter, and my brother's children of a nurse. Myunhappy brother was himself an object of solicitude and care. At length,I consented to relinquish the corpse, and go to my brother's, whosehouse, I said, would need mistress, and his children a parent.
During this discourse, my venerable friend struggled with his tears, butmy last intimation called them forth with fresh violence. Meanwhile,his attendants stood round in mournful silence, gazing on me and at eachother. I repeated my resolution, and rose to execute it; but he took myhand to detain me. His countenance betrayed irresolution and reluctance.I requested him to state the reason of his opposition to this measure.I entreated him to be explicit. I told him that my brother had just beenthere, and that I knew his condition. This misfortune had driven himto madness, and his offspring must not want a protector. If he chose,I would resign Wieland to his care; but his innocent and helpless babesstood in instant need of nurse and mother, and these offices I would byno means allow another to perform while I had life.
Every word that I uttered seemed to augment his perplexity and distress.At last he said, "I think, Clara, I have entitled myself to some regardfrom you. You have professed your willingness to oblige me. Now I callupon you to confer upon me the highest obligation in your power. PermitMrs. Baynton to have the management of your brother's house for two orthree days; then it shall be yours to act in it as you please. No matterwhat are my motives in making this request: perhaps I think yourage, your sex, or the distress which this disaster must occasion,incapacitates you for the office. Surely you have no doubt of Mrs.Baynton's tenderness or discretion." New ideas now rushed into my mind.I fixed my eyes stedfastly on Mr. Hallet. "Are they well?" said I. "IsLouisa well? Are Benjamin, and William, and Constantine, and LittleClara, are they safe? Tell me truly, I beseech you!"
"They are well," he replied; "they are perfectly safe."
"Fear no effeminate weakness in me: I can bear to hear the truth. Tellme truly, are they well?"
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He again assured me that they were well.
"What then," resumed I, "do you fear? Is it possible for any calamity todisqualify me for performing my duty to these helpless innocents? Iam willing to divide the care of them with Mrs. Baynton; I shall begrateful for her sympathy and aid; but what should I be to desert themat an hour like this!"
I will cut short this distressful dialogue. I still persisted in mypurpose, and he still persisted in his opposition. This excited mysuspicions anew; but these were removed by solemn declarations of theirsafety. I could not explain this conduct in my friend; but at lengthconsented to go to the city, provided I should see them for a fewminutes at present, and should return on the morrow.
Even this arrangement was objected to. At length he told me they wereremoved to the city. Why were they removed, I asked, and whither? Myimportunities would not now be eluded. My suspicions were roused, and noevasion or artifice was sufficient to allay them. Many of the audiencebegan to give vent to their emotions in tears. Mr. Hallet himself seemedas if the conflict were too hard to be longer sustained. Somethingwhispered to my heart that havoc had been wider than I now witnessed.I suspected this concealment to arise from apprehensions of theeffects which a knowledge of the truth would produce in me. I oncemore entreated him to inform me truly of their state. To enforce myentreaties, I put on an air of insensibility. "I can guess," said I,"what has happened--They are indeed beyond the reach of injury, for theyare dead! Is it not so?" My voice faltered in spite of my courageousefforts.
"Yes," said he, "they are dead! Dead by the same fate, and by the samehand, with their mother!"
"Dead!" replied I; "what, all?"
"All!" replied he: "he spared NOT ONE!"
Allow me, my friends, to close my eyes upon the after-scene. Why shouldI protract a tale which I already begin to feel is too long? Over thisscene at least let me pass lightly. Here, indeed, my narrative would beimperfect. All was tempestuous commotion in my heart and in my brain. Ihave no memory for ought but unconscious transitions and rueful sights.I was ingenious and indefatigable in the invention of torments. I wouldnot dispense with any spectacle adapted to exasperate my grief. Eachpale and mangled form I crushed to my bosom. Louisa, whom I loved withso ineffable a passion, was denied to me at first, but my obstinacyconquered their reluctance.
They led the way into a darkened hall. A lamp pendant from the ceilingwas uncovered, and they pointed to a table. The assassin had defraudedme of my last and miserable consolation. I sought not in her visage, forthe tinge of the morning, and the lustre of heaven. These had vanishedwith life; but I hoped for liberty to print a last kiss upon her lips.This was denied me; for such had been the merciless blow that destroyedher, that not a LINEAMENT REMAINED!
I was carried hence to the city. Mrs. Hallet was my companion and mynurse. Why should I dwell upon the rage of fever, and the effusionsof delirium? Carwin was the phantom that pursued my dreams, the giantoppressor under whose arm I was for ever on the point of being crushed.Strenuous muscles were required to hinder my flight, and hearts of steelto withstand the eloquence of my fears. In vain I called upon them tolook upward, to mark his sparkling rage and scowling contempt. All Isought was to fly from the stroke that was lifted. Then I heaped upon myguards the most vehement reproaches, or betook myself to wailings on thehaplessness of my condition.
This malady, at length, declined, and my weeping friends began to lookfor my restoration. Slowly, and with intermitted beams, memory revisitedme. The scenes that I had witnessed were revived, became the themeof deliberation and deduction, and called forth the effusions of morerational sorrow.