pockets; and couldnot leave Liverpool at present to obtain more. I must stay until thereturn of Adkins; and it would not do to spend my last shilling in idlywaiting.
Without friends I could only get such occupation, as required theseverest labour to perform; but, fortunately for that, I had the will,health, and strength I feel a pride in stating, that I acted, as a manshould under the circumstances. Instead of strolling about in hopelessidleness, I went to the docks, and obtained labourer's work.
For two weeks I worked at handling cotton bales, and bags of sugar. Thetoil was humble, and the pay for it was proportionately small; but dutycommanded me, and I worked on, cheered by hope, and without repining atmy fate.
Sometimes in the evening, I would walk up and down the street in frontof the residence of Mrs Hyland--with the hope of seeing Lenore, or withthe knowledge of being near her, whether she might be seen or not. Ifound pleasure even in this.
I did not like to call on her again--until I had given her mother someproof of my innocence.
Sometimes it occurred to me to ask myself the question, why should I seeher more, even after I had cleared myself? She was beautiful,dangerously beautiful; and I was friendless, homeless, and withoutfortune. Why should I endanger my future peace of mind, by becomingmore and more infatuated with one whose heart I could scarce hope everto possess?
Duty as well as reason told me to pursue the search for my relatives,and see Lenore Hyland no more. But where is the heart love-strickenthat will listen to the call, either of reason, or duty?
Mine did not, and could not. It was deaf to such an appeal. I couldthink only of Lenore, yearn to see her again--to speak with her--tolisten to her--to love her!
Volume One, Chapter XII.
AN ENCOUNTER WITH A COWARD.
About a week after my interview with Mrs Hyland and her daughter, I sawwhat I had been daily looking for--a notice in one of the Liverpoolpapers, under the head of "Shipping Intelligence," announcing thearrival of the ship "Lenore," Captain Adkins, from New Orleans.
After reading the notice, I hastily flung aside the paper; and proceededdirect to the docks--where I found the vessel had already arrived.
As I might have expected, Adkins was not aboard. He had landed severalhours before, while the ship was still in the river. Having ascertainedthe name of the hotel where he was in the habit of staying, while inLiverpool, I lost no time loitering on board the ship, but went insearch of him. On reaching the hotel, I found that he had slept therethe night before, but had gone out after breakfast in the morning.
My conjecture was, that he would be found at the house of Mrs Hyland;and it now occurred to me that I had been wonderfully stupid in notlooking for him there in the first instance.
From the hotel, I proceeded direct to Mrs Hyland's residence, as Iwalked along, anticipating much pleasure in the task of compellingAdkins to refute his own falsehoods. I feared, however, that shamewould hinder him telling the truth; and that even in my presence hewould stick to his infamous story. I feared it, because I did not wishto kill him.
As I had conjectured, he was visiting at Mrs Hyland's. Just as Ireached the door, Adkins was coming out.
I controlled my temper as well as I could. I did not wish to defeat mypurpose by an exhibition of idle anger.
"Good morning Mr Adkins!" said I. "We meet again; and I assure you, onmy part, with profound pleasure."
He would have passed without speaking, had I not placed my body so as toblock the way.
"Who the devil are you; and what do you want?" he asked, with a bullyingtone and air that I had often known him assume before.
"I am Rowland Stone," I answered, "and I wish to see you on a matter ofconsiderable importance."
"You see me then! what the important business?"
"It can only be made known in the presence of Mrs Hyland and herdaughter."
"Mrs Hyland does not wish to see you," said Adkins, "and much less herdaughter, I should think. As for myself, I want nothing to do withyou."
"I can believe the latter part of your assertions," I answered, "but itis necessary that we should sometimes do what may not be exactlyagreeable to us. If there is a spark of manhood in you, walk back intothe house, and repeat to Mrs Hyland in my presence, what you have saidbehind my back."
"I shall not take the trouble to do any thing of the kind. I tell youagain, I want nothing to say to you. Give me the way!"
As Adkins said this, he made a gesture as if he intended to pass me.
"I'll give you the way to hell," said I, "unless you do as I bid you,"and I caught him by the collar to drag him into the house.
He resisted this attempt by aiming a blow at me, which I returned withsuch interest, that while I still kept my legs, the captain of the"Lenore" missed his; and, staggering backward, he fell heavily on thedoor-step.
I had now lost all command of myself; and, after ringing the bell, tohave the door re-opened, I seized him by the hair of the head--for thepurpose of hauling him inside.
My purpose would have been accomplished. I would have broken down thedoor, dragged him into the house, confronted him with Mrs Hyland, andmade him swallow his false words, but for the arrival of a trio ofpolicemen.
I was not overcome until after a long struggle, in which the exertionsof the three policemen, Adkins himself, and another man, who was passingat the time, were united against me. It ended in their putting me inirons.
As I was led away from the house, I noticed that Mrs Hyland and Lenorewere both at the window--where, I had no doubt, they had been witnessesof the affray.
I was at once taken to a police station, and locked up in one of itscells.
Next morning I was brought before a magistrate. Adkins was there toprosecute. The three policemen were present as witnesses, as also theLiverpool citizen, who had aided in putting me in irons.
After evidence was heard against me, I was called upon for my defence.I had nothing to say to the charge.
The magistrate emphatically declared that a case of a more unprovokedassault had never been brought before him; and that he did not think theends of justice would be met by the infliction of a fine. He thereforesentenced me to fourteen days' imprisonment.
I thought none the less of myself for that; and, under othercircumstances, two weeks in a prison might not have been passedunpleasantly. But it was bitterness to reflect, that while I waspassing my time in the companionship of petty thieves, Edward Adkins wasdaily visiting Lenore.
Fourteen days must I pass as a prisoner, while my vile enemy would beenjoying the society of Mrs Hyland and her daughter--no doubt doing allhe could to blacken my character, and lower me still further in theirestimation!
The reflection was anything but pleasant, though I might have partlyconsoled myself by another: that I was much better off inside the gaol,than millions of my fellow countrymen outside of it. Had I committedsome crime, that really deserved this confinement, then would I, indeed,have felt really wretched; but conscience accused me of no wrong; and Iwas not without those tranquillising emotions ever springing from asense of rectitude and innocence.
I was not afraid that Adkins would gain any great advantage over me inwinning the affections of Lenore--even though aided by the influence ofher mother. It was not that which troubled me during my sojourn withinthe walls of a prison. If Lenore should prove capable of choosing sucha man for her husband, I need not regret her loss. My spirit was moreharassed by the thought: that wrong should have thus triumphed--thatAdkins should be in the society of Lenore, when he should have been inmy place in the prison, and I in his.
After I had passed eight days of my confinement, I was surprised onemorning by the announcement that I was to receive visitors.
Two persons had called, and inquired for Rowland Stone. They wereoutside--waiting to be admitted to my cell.
Both proved to be old acquaintances. One was a man named Wilton, whohad been the second mate of the ship "Lenore," under Captain Hyland.The other was Mason, the st
eward of the same ship.
As both these men had been very kind to me when I was in the ship, I waspleased to see them; but much more so, when I learnt to whom I wasindebted for their visit. Mason told me that he was still steward ofthe "Lenore," and that Miss Hyland had come to him on board: for thepurpose of obtaining a true account of the circumstances that stoodbetween me and Adkins.
"I was glad to learn, Rowley, that you had turned up again," said Mason,"but at the same time, sorry to hear of your present trouble. I at onceresolved to try and get you out of at least a part of it, although I maylose my situation by doing so. I told Miss Hyland, plainly enough, thatAdkins was a villain, and that I could prove it. I promised her that Iwould come and see you. Wilton here, is now the skipper of a tug-boaton the river, and I brought him along--knowing that he can lend a handto help us."
"Nothing can please me more than to see Adkins lose the command of