One day, in extreme agitation, Rossini came to Mr. Somers, requesting the loan of a considerable sum of money, to meet demands made upon him. Remittances daily expected from Europe had failed to reach him.
Mr. Somers was unable to command so large a sum as he required. His senior partner was absent from home. But the wily Rossini so won upon his sympathies, that he went to the private safe of his brother-in-law, and took from thence the money necessary to free his friend from embarra.s.sment. He never saw the Italian again.
When the treachery of which he had been the victim burst upon him, together with his own weakness and guilt, he was filled with shame and remorse. Mr. Lansdowne was a man of stern integrity and uncompromising justice. He dared not meet his eye on his return, and he dreaded to communicate the unworthy transaction to his sister, who had so gently yet so faithfully warned him.
He made desperate efforts to get traces of the villain who had deceived him. Unsuccessful--maddened with sorrow and shame, he wrote a brief note of farewell to Mrs. Lansdowne, in which he confessed the wrong he had committed against her husband, which Mr. Lansdowne would reveal to her. He begged her to think as kindly of him as possible, averring that an hour before the deed was done, he could not have believed himself capable of it. Then he forsook the city.
When these occurrences were communicated to Mr. Lansdowne, he was filled with surprise and indignation,--not at the pecuniary loss, which, with his ample wealth, was of little moment to him, but on account of such imprudence and folly, where he least expected it.
A few hours, however, greatly modified his view of the case. He had found, in the safe, a note from Mr. Somers, stating the circ.u.mstances under which he had taken the money and also the disappearance of Rossini. This, together with his wife"s distress, softened his feelings to such a degree that he consented to recall his brother and reinstate him in his former place in business.
But whither had the fugitive gone? Mrs. Lansdowne found no clue to his intended destination.
During the morning of the day on which she is first introduced to the attention of the reader, she had visited his apartment to make a more thorough exploration. Looking around the room, she saw lying in the fireplace a bit of paper, half buried in the ashes. She drew it out, and after examining carefully found written upon it a few words that kindled a new hope in her heart. Taking it to her husband, a consultation was held upon its contents and an expedition planned, of which an account will be given in the next chapter.
She was now the prey of conflicting emotions. The expedition, which had that day been arranged, involved a sacrifice of feeling on her part, greater she feared than she would be able to make.
But in order to recover her brother to home, honor, and happiness, it seemed necessary to be made. Voices from the dead were pleading at her heart incessantly, urging her, at whatever cost, to seek and save him, who, with herself, const.i.tuted the only remnant of their family left on earth. Her own affection for him also pressed its eloquent suit, and at last the decision was confirmed. She resolved to venture her son in the quest.
In the mean time, the sunset hues had faded from the sky and evening had approached. The golden full moon had risen and was now shining in at the broad window, bringing into beautiful relief the delicate tracery on the high cornices, the rich carvings of the mahogany furniture, and striking out a soft sheen from Mrs. Lansdowne"s black satin dress, as she moved slowly to and fro, through the light.
She seated herself once more at the window and gazed upon the lovely orb of night. A portion of its serenity entered and tranquillized her soul. The cloud of care and anxiety pa.s.sed from her brow, leaving it smooth and pure as that of an angel.
CHAPTER VI.
"JOHN, DEAR".
On the evening that Mrs. Lansdowne was thus occupied, John, her son, who had been out on the bay all the afternoon, rushed past the drawing-room door, bounded up the long staircase; entered his room, situated on the same floor, not far from his mother"s, and rang the bell violently.
In a few minutes, Aunt Esther, an ancient black woman, who had long been in the service of the family, made her appearance at the door, and inquired what "Ma.s.sa John" wanted.
"I want some fire here, Aunt Esther. I"ve been out on the bay, fishing. Our smack got run down, and I"ve had a ducking; I feel decidedly chilly".
"Law sakes!" said she, in great trepidation, "yer orter get warm right away", and hastened down stairs.
A stout, hale man, soon entered the room, with a basket of wood and a pan of coals, followed immediately by Aunt Esther, who began to arrange them on the hearth.
Aunt Esther"s complexion was of a pure shining black, her features of the size and cut usually accompanying that hue, and lighted up by a contented, sunshiny expression, which truly indicated the normal state of her mind. A brilliant, yellow turban sat well upon her woolly locks and a blue and red chintz dress, striped perpendicularly, somewhat elongated the effect of her stout dumpy figure. She had taken care of John during his babyhood and early boyhood, and he remained to this day her especial pet and pride.
"Aunt Esther", said that young man, throwing himself into an easy-chair, and a.s.suming as lackadaisical an expression as his frank and roguish face would allow, "I have just lost a friend".
"Yer have?" said his old nurse, looking round compa.s.sionately.
When did yer lose him?"
"About an hour ago".
"What did he die of, Ma.s.sa John?"
"Of a painful nervous disease", said he.
"How old was he?"
"A few years younger than I am".
"Did he die hard?"
"Very hard, Aunt Esther", said John, looking solemn.
"Had yer known him long?"
"Yes, a long time".
Aunt Esther gave a deep sigh. "Does yer know weder he was pious?"
"Well, here he is. Perhaps you can tell by looking at him", said he, handing her a tooth, he had just had extracted, and bursting into a boyish laugh.
"O! yer go along, Ma.s.sa John. I might hev knowed it was one of yer deceitful tricks", said Aunt Esther, trying to conceal her amus.e.m.e.nt, by putting on an injured look. "There, the fire burns now. Yer jest put on them dry clothes as quick as ever yer can, or mebbe ye"ll lose another friend before long".
"It shall be done as you say, beloved Aunt Esther", said he, rising and bowing profoundly, as she left the room.
Having obeyed the worthy woman"s injunction, he drew the easy-chair to the fire, leaned his head back and spent the next half hour hovering between consciousness and dreamland.
From this state, he was roused by a gentle tap on his door, followed by his mother"s voice, saying, "John, dear?"
John rose instantly, threw the door wide open and ushered in the lady, saying, "Come in, little queen mother, come in", and bowing over her hand with a pompous, yet courtly grace.
Mrs. Lansdowne, when seen a short time since walking in her solitude, seemed quite lofty in stature, but now, standing for a moment beside the regal height of her son, one could fully justify him in bestowing upon her the t.i.tle with which he had greeted her.
John Lansdowne was fast developing, physically as well as mentally into a n.o.ble manhood, and it was no wonder that his mother"s heart swelled with pride and joy when she looked upon him. Straight, muscular, and vigorous in form, his features and expression were precisely her own, enlarged and intensified. Open and generous in disposition, his character had a certain quality of firmness, quite in contrast with that of his uncle Edward, and this she had carefully sought to strengthen. In the pursuit of his studies, he had thus far been earnest and successful.
During the last half year, however, he had chafed under the confinements of student life, and having now become quite restive in the harness, he had asked his father for a few months of freedom from books. He wished to explore a wilderness, to go on a foreign voyage, to wander away, away, anywhere beyond the sight of college walls.
"John", said Mrs. Lansdowne, "I have been conversing with your father on the subject, and he has consented to an expedition for you".
"O! glorious! mother where am I to go? to the Barcan desert, or to the Arctic Ocean?"
"You are to make a journey to the Miramichi River?"
"Miramichi!" said John, after a brief pause, "I thought I had a slight acquaintance with geography, but where in the wide world is Miramichi?"
"It is in the province of New Brunswick. You will have seventy-five miles of almost unbroken wilderness to pa.s.s through".
"Seventy-five miles of wilderness! magnificent! where"s my rifle, mother? I haven"t seen it for an age".
"Don"t be so impetuous, John. This journey through the wilderness will be anything but magnificent. You will meet many dangers by the way and will encounter many hardships".