Woven with the Ship: A Novel of 1865

  "WHEN LOVELY WOMAN STOOPS TO FOLLY"

  THE FATE OF A COQUETTE OF 1815

  "When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray, What charm can soothe her melancholy? What art can wash her guilt away?"

  GOLDSMITH

  Marian Fletcher was certainly beautiful enough to excuse the jealousyof any man who loved her,--which, by the way, most men who knew herdid! She was sufficiently a woman also to realize her ownbeauty--indeed, did ever daughter of Eve possess a charm of which shelacked knowledge? Even the most absolute _ingenue_ is conscious thatshe is an _ingenue_, and Marian Fletcher was by no means that. And herwit and humor were not the least of her charms. She was gayetypersonified, light-hearted, healthy and red-cheeked, and joyous--quitea new woman for 1815, in fact; and that, too, in an artificial age inwhich languor and pallor, megrims and vapors were the fashion, "Nicecustoms curt'sy to"--beautiful women, and Marian had a fashion of herown. One word described the sum of her qualities,--fascination!

  Even her best friends were forced to admit that she was a bit of acoquette, however. Indeed, if the truth were told, from the crown ofher black hair, which brought to mind the usual simile of the raven'swing, down to her beautiful little feet, she was all of a coquette.She loved liberty, she loved love, she loved lovers. In addition toall of these things it might be said that, in her secret heart, sheloved Robert Gardner. Whether she loved him more than she did theother three was a question which she had not settled to her ownsatisfaction, and about which Gardner himself was fearfully undecided.

  She had said--but then she made many perjuries before the laughingJove. She had permitted him to enjoy the fleeting and mostunsatisfying pleasure of pressing his lips upon her brow. He believedthat this was a step farther--he would have resented furiously anysuggestion to the contrary--than any other suitor had gone. It was.She had allowed him to persuade her into a sort of an engagement, butthe tie resulting was about as indefinite as could be imagined. Withhim--he was a sailor and his similes were nautical--it was a hempencable which held him to her like a ship to a bower anchor. With her itwas a daisy chain, ready to part at the first strain, and the strainwas near at hand.

  To celebrate the closing of the war of 1812, Colonel Fletcher, an oldRevolutionary veteran and the father of the fair Marian, had assembleda house-party at his fine old place on the Hudson. He was a widowerwith a son and a daughter. The son had been an officer in Scott'sarmy--a major--who had greatly distinguished himself in the Niagaracampaign. Among others who had gladly accepted the veteran colonel'shospitality were two friends of young Major Fletcher, who had beencollege-mates with him at Harvard. One was Robert Gardner, a younglieutenant in the navy, and the other was John Mason, a youngVirginian, who was a captain in the army. The young men had beenguests of Colonel Fletcher before the war, and they had known Marian,whom they both loved, for several years. Their wooing, interrupted bythe demands of the service, was at once renewed under the favorablecircumstances of their meeting. Gardner was a gay, athletic, dashingyoung sailor,--blue-eyed, curly-haired, sunny in disposition; Mason,on the contrary, was tall and very slender, dignified and quiet, witha temper as dark as his complexion. One was impulsive, bold,impetuous; the other cool and determined, with an undercurrent ofsleeping passion in his being; both were in the highest sensegentlemen.

  The relations between the two men, at first friendly, had becomemarkedly strained as their courtship proceeded, though no open rupturehad yet occurred. Mason could not but be aware of Marian's preferencefor Gardner; yet, as she had not allowed the latter to announce theirengagement, with dogged persistency the Virginian continued to profferhis attentions. Truth to say, these latter were not so unwelcome tothe fair Marian as might be imagined. She had entered into aquasi-engagement with Gardner, yet she was by no means averse to thedevotion of her melancholy yet handsome suitor, and her conductbetween the two was not altogether above reproach. It was a joyous anddelightful game,--also a dangerous!

  On the evening in question it seemed that she had gone quite too far,and that even the hempen cable would not stand the strain whichtautened it. During the day a pretty little lover's quarrel, which shehad wilfully brought about to test her power, had culminated in anopen rupture. Laughing at Gardner's pleas, she had devoted herself toMason,--or had allowed Mason to devote himself to her, rather,--raisingthat young man to the seventh heaven of delight. She had ridden withhim in the afternoon, gone to supper with him at night, and dancedwith him most of the evening at the party which had been arranged.

  Manoeuvring her out on the porch toward the close of the evening,Gardner unwisely endeavored to take her to task. Goaded beyond hispower of restraint by her flirtation, he assumed an authority over herfor which he had no warrant. Where he should have pleaded andentreated, he threatened and commanded. Miss Marian snapped herfingers at him metaphorically--she was too well bred to do such athing physically. Rendered desperate by her obduracy, his anger passedall bounds and his words followed suit. The mock quarrel on her partbecame a real one. She repudiated him entirely, broke her engagementflatly, declared frankly that she did not love him,--and in the act ofdeclaration she was convinced that she did,--and with her head high inthe air, a brilliant flush on her cheek, and a sparkle of defiance inher eye, left him. He leaped from the porch and disappeared under thetrees; she ran right into the arms of John Mason coming out of thehouse to seek her.

  He saw her agitation, of course, and in her anger she let slip wordswhich gave him a perfect clew to the cause of it. Before she realizedwhat she did, she said that which she would have given worlds torecall--afterwards; then she was too much excited and indignant tocare. Gardner had insulted her. She hated him.

  "I hate him, too," said Mason, bending his head, his black eyes aflamein the shadow of the porch, "and the depth of my hatred isproportioned by my love for you, Marian. Give me leave, dearest, tomake your cause mine."

  His voice with its soft Southern tones was very persuasive andthrilling in the moonlight; there was such passion and yet suchrespect and adoration in its accents. He bent before her sodeferentially and so pleadingly. There was such a contrast in hisgentleness to the hectoring she had just undergone, that she yieldedin spite of herself. With bent head she murmured words--she hardlyknew what. Faintly resisting him, he swept her to his breast andpressed a kiss, not upon her forehead, but upon her lips.

  At the instant a step on the porch interrupted them. Marian, alreadyrepentant, sprang from Mason's encircling arms and turned to seeGardner coming toward them. He had wandered about the groundsmiserably after they had parted and had returned to sue for pardon,but what he had just seen had changed his mind. His face was convulsedwith passion. Disregarding Marian, he stepped toward Mason, his handupraised as if he would strike him down. There was murder in hisheart. The girl screamed and then turned and fled in dismay. She hadbroken her engagement with a man whom she now realized she loved withall her heart, and she had promised herself to a man whom she knew shedid not love. She had been bitterly unjust, in her folly, to both men.

  The dancing for the evening was already over. The women of the partywere retiring to their rooms, and Marian, sick at heart, slipped awayand sought her chamber also. Throwing herself dressed upon her bed,she thought it over. Nothing would happen until the morning, shereasoned, and then she would make a clean breast of it to her father.He would extricate her from her difficulties.

  Mason on the porch was already master of himself.

  "Don't strike me!" he said to Gardner, "or I shall kill you where youstand! Besides, 'tis not necessary. I understand your feelings and Iintend to give you satisfaction, but the cause of our quarrel must notbe known. The reputation of the woman--I intend to make my wife mustnot be the subject of public comment. Control yourself, sir, I beg ofyou," he added, smiling triumphantly, as the other stamped his foot."Let us repair to the house. The ladies will have retired, and we caneasily manufacture sufficient public cause for a quarrel. I will takeit upon myself. Com
e no nearer!" he said, thrusting his hand into thepocket of his coat as Gardner swayed toward him. "I warn you that I amarmed. On my word, I will shoot you like a mad dog! I will submit tonothing from you. I am giving you a chance for your life and affordingyou every satisfaction as it is."

  Gardner controlled himself with a mighty effort.

  "You are right," he gasped; "'tis not through fear that I do notstrike you, but, as you say, Miss Fletcher's name must not become thesubject of gossip. You shall never marry her! I intend to kill you!"

  "That's as may be," answered the other; "let us not come to blowsabout it. I am not used to such. 'Tis vulgar brawling. Controlyourself. I take your arm, so. Though 'tis hateful to both of us, wemust appear to be on friendly terms."

  Arm in arm the two rivals entered the hall and no one dreamed of thedeadly hatred which sundered them. After the departure of the womenColonel Fletcher and his guests sat down to spend the rest of theevening--morning rather--between cards and the bottle. Chance, ortheir own contrivance, made Mason and Gardner partners. Neither of thetwo partook of the wine. As the heat of Gardner's passion abated, herealized the necessity for acquiring his wonted calmness. He was afamous shot with the pistol, a weapon with which Mason was not sofamiliar, and he believed that if he had an opportunity he could killhim. He fully intended to do so.

  It was an age in which duels were common and life was cheap. Mason wasto afford the provocation and give the challenge. He said he would doso and he was a man of his word. Then, as the challenged party,Gardner would have the choice of weapons. As the game proceeded,Mason, who had made several irritating remarks upon his partner'splaying, finally remarked, sneeringly:

  "That's a cowardly deal, Gardner. Why don't you play more boldly,sir?"

  "Cowardly!" cried Gardner, rising.

  "That's what I said. But then what could you expect from a man who hadbeen an officer on the _Chesapeake_?"

  The allusion, of course, was to the capture of the American frigate_Chesapeake_ by the British frigate _Shannon_, which was almost thesolitary instance of English naval success in the war, but for whichGardner was in no way responsible.

  "By gad, sir!" shouted Gardner, "if I play like a coward, you playlike a booby! Your tactics are what one would naturally expect from asoldier whose chief exploit was in leading the flying troops fromBladensburg!" another American defeat and a disgraceful one at that,although Mason had there fought bravely until wounded.

  "You shall wipe out this insult, sir!" responded Mason, rising in histurn.

  "Yes," said the other, "in the only possible way."

  "Gentlemen! Gentlemen!" interrupted some of the others.

  "What's this?" exclaimed the colonel, leaving his table andapproaching them. "Brawling in my house among my guests? I will havenone of it!"

  "Sir," cried Gardner, "you are a soldier. You are all soldiers here; Ialone am a sailor. This person called me a coward, taunted me with theloss of the _Chesapeake_. By heavens, he shall apologize!"

  "What?" said the colonel. "Did you make use of such intemperatelanguage, Captain Mason?"

  "I did, sir," responded the other, coolly, "and I may add that heaccused me of leading the retreat at Bladensburg, which is a damnablelie, sir! I challenge him instantly!"

  "He but anticipates my own desire," said Gardner. "You see, sir, thematter must be arranged. As the challenged party I name pistols, andif the time is agreeable I appoint this moment for the encounter.Major Fletcher will perhaps honor me by acting as my second."

  "And Captain Lee," said Mason, turning to one of the others, "will, Iam sure, act for me."

  "Gentlemen," said the colonel, retiring with the seconds, "cannot thisunhappy affair be arranged?"

  "It is impossible, sir," replied Lee and his son, who had consulted amoment or two with their respective principals.

  "There must be more behind this than appears."

  "That's as may be, colonel; there is enough on the surface, anyway;the two men have deliberately insulted each other, and the duel mustgo on," replied Captain Lee.

  "I entirely agree with Lee, father," assented Major Fletcher.

  The preliminaries were soon arranged. The party had assembled in thedining-room. The long table was pushed to one side of the room. Thecolonel's duelling pistols had been loaded under the supervision ofthe seconds and each contestant had received his weapon. At one sideof the apartment the men of the party were gathered; one of them helda lighted candelabrum high in the air to light both men equally. Allother lights in the room had been extinguished. Pistol in hand at thetable stood Colonel Fletcher. Six paces were measured in the centre ofthe room by the seconds, and marked off by two playing-cards laid onthe floor. Mason and Gardner were placed opposite each other, each onewith his right foot touching the card marking his station. It had beenagreed between the seconds that the colonel should pronounce the words"one, two," and then "fire!" and that after the word "fire!" thecombatants should fire at pleasure.

  As is often the case, in the moment of danger Gardner's coolness cameback to him. He believed that Marian had permitted herself to beinveigled into an engagement to Mason because of the quarrel and hisbehavior toward her. He felt confident that she loved him, and heintended to solve the dilemma in which she had placed herself bykilling the other man. No feeling of pity, no intention to spare hisrival, found even a momentary lodgment in his heart. As he stoodthinking hard while the arrangements were being completed, he markedthe very spot where the lace of Mason's coat crossed his heart, intowhich he intended to send his bullet. The soldier wore his usualuniform, and the frock coat loosely buttoned about his spare form gavehim a stouter appearance than his proportions warranted.

  It was Gardner's purpose to fire instantly upon the giving of theword, trusting to his quickness of movement and his accuracy of aim tokill his opponent before he had time to pull the trigger. As he lookedat Mason standing so cool and so quiet before him, he felt that hewould have need of all his skill and address to win the game, in whichnot only love, but life, were the stakes.

  On Mason's part, while his desire to kill his opponent was as great asGardner's, his tactics were different. Though ordinarily familiar withhis weapon and able to give a good account of himself if he had hisown time for firing, he knew that he would be at a tremendousdisadvantage in a quick exchange of shots. He realized also that withhis usual impetuosity Gardner would fire instantly the word was given.He determined, therefore, to submit to the fearful risk of receivingthe hasty shot which he felt would come, and if he were then unharmed,deliberately take his time in returning it. He had no suspicion butthat the acceptance of his suit had been genuine, and he longed tolive with a double intensity on account of the depth of his passion.

  All preparations having been made, the colonel took his place. Theseconds removed a little distance away from their principals to be outof range.

  "Are you ready, gentlemen?" said the colonel.

  "Ready, sir!" answered both men, promptly.

  They both stood slightly turned, their right sides presented, theirarms depending, with the cocked pistol in the right hand.

  "You know the conditions. I shall count 'one, two,' and then give theword 'fire!'" continued the colonel. "After the order is given you maydischarge your weapons at will."

  The colonel had a third pistol in hand, for what purpose no one quiteunderstood. The silence was absolutely breathless.

  "One!" said the old soldier, his voice ringing hollowthrough the apartment]

  "One!" said the old soldier, his voice ringing hollow through theapartment.

  "Two!" he said, more strongly.

  "Fire!" he snapped out at last.

  Instantly there was a flash of light, a cloud of smoke, a crashingreport from Gardner's pistol. Mason's second, closely watching hisprincipal, thought he saw a flick of dust rise from his coat. TheVirginian staggered slightly, raised his left arm and laid it acrosshis breast, but still stood erect, his pistol in his half-extendedhand.

  "Great God!
" cried Gardner, hoarsely, as he saw his rival standingbefore him apparently unharmed. "Have I missed him?"

  He put his hand in bewilderment to his head and staggered back fromhis position.

  "Back to the card, sir!" thundered the colonel, cocking and raisinghis pistol and pointing it directly at Gardner.

  "Of course, sir," returned the sailor, dauntlessly, stepping back tothe card as he spoke. "I trust no gentleman here will think I shrankfrom the return bullet. 'Twas but surprise. Take your shot, I beg ofyou, Captain Mason."

  His face was deadly pale, yet he forced a smile to his lips.

  "You still have a shot, Captain Mason. Take it. We acquit LieutenantGardner of any timidity whatever," said the colonel, lowering hisweapon.

  Mason, who had grown as white as his rival, deliberately raised hispistol and took long and careful aim. The men in the room gazedbreathlessly. They shifted about uneasily. Gardner stood with thesmile petrified upon his face. Mason at last pressed the trigger, butthe pistol missed fire and there was no discharge. The soldier loweredhis arm and recocked his weapon.

  "By heavens, it looks like murder!" burst forth one of the men.

  "Silence, gentlemen!" shouted the colonel, handling his pistol again;"the man is entitled to his shot, and he shall have it. I'll kill thefirst man that interferes!"

  "I beg him to take it," cried Gardner, with splendid courage, for ifever man could read his death-warrant in another's face, he saw it inthe countenance of his antagonist.

  Once more Mason raised his pistol. This time nothing prevented thedischarge. His deliberate aim had been successful, and Gardner felldead instantly, the bullet in his heart.

  Mason, with the smoking pistol clenched in his hand, and with his leftarm still pressed against his heart, walked over to the table andstood by it, leaning heavily upon it as he stared at the little groupbending over his dead rival. At that moment the door was flung openand Marian, dressed as she had been at the dance, but withtear-stained face, frightened looks, and dishevelled hair, burst intothe room. She happened to face Mason, and, her back being turned tothe other end of the room, she did not see the body of Gardner.

  "I heard shots," she cried; "have they--where is he?"

  "Colonel and gentlemen," said Mason, faintly, coming forward with thatleft hand still pressed against his breast, "'tis an unseemly momentto announce it, but Miss Fletcher has honored me with a promise ofherself to me to-night. We are----"

  The girl turned to him with a look of abject horror and repulsion. Shescreamed faintly. The man was half blind apparently; he did not seemto realize.

  "Have no fear for me, Marian dear," he went on, softly, "I am----"

  "What have you done?" she shrieked. "Where is Robert Gardner? 'Tis heI love, not you!"

  Her eyes instinctively followed the glances of those about her.

  "Oh!" she cried. "What is that? Robert! Oh, my God, and I have killedyou!"

  Her voice rang through the room in such an awful note of agony thatevery man's heart stood still. The colonel moved toward her, but herliving lover was quicker. He caught her arm.

  "Don't touch me!" she cried, shrinking away from him. "There is bloodon your hand! His blood! You are a murderer!"

  Her bitter words recalled him in a measure to himself.

  "No, madam," he answered, smiling faintly, "'Tis my own."

  He tore open his coat, showing the bosom of his shirt and waistcoatstained with blood. He had been hit, but the loose coat had deceivedhis opponent's aim, and the bullet had missed the heart. He had socontrolled himself that no one suspected that he was wounded, and hehad almost bled to death in the effort.

  The woman, the roses all shuddered out of her cheeks, a ghastlypicture, stared from the dead to the living with dazed, terrifiedglances.

  "You," continued Mason, swaying as he spoke,--"you have trifled withtwo honest men, and from your cursed coquetry one lies dead yonder andone--and one--dies--at your feet!"

  He suddenly collapsed before her, caught feebly at her white satinskirt with his bloody hands as he lay upon the floor and strove tocarry it to his lips.

  "He loved you," he murmured, "and I, too--we were fools--for a woman."

  That was all.