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Ishmael by Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth

M >> Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth >> Ishmael



ISHMAEL

Or, In the Depths

by

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth

Author of
_Self-Raised_, _The Hidden Hand_, _Capitola's Peril_,
_The Bride's Fate_, _The Changed Brides_, etc.

A.L. Burt Company, Publishers
New York







"Light was his footstep in the dance
And firm his stirrup in the lists,
And O! he had that merry glance
That seldom lady's heart resists."




* * * * * *



POPULAR BOOKS
By MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH

In Handsome Cloth Binding
Price per volume 60 Cents


Beautiful Fiend, A

Brandon Coyle's Wife
Sequel to A Skeleton in the Closet

Bride's Fate, The
Sequel to The Changed Brides

Bride's Ordeal, The

Capitola's Peril
Sequel to the Hidden Hand

Changed Brides, The

Cruel as the Grave

David Lindsay
Sequel to Gloria

Deed Without a Name, A

Dorothy Harcourt's Secret
Sequel to A Deed Without a Name

"Em"

Em's Husband
Sequel to "Em"

Fair Play

For Whose Sake
Sequel to Why Did He Wed Her?

For Woman's Love

Fulfilling Her Destiny
Sequel to When Love Commands

Gloria

Her Love or Her life
Sequel to The Bride's Ordeal

Her Mother's Secret

Hidden Hand, The

How He Won Her
Sequel to Fair Play

Ishmael

Leap in the Dark, A

Lilith
Sequel to the Unloved Wife

Little Nea's Engagement
Sequel to Nearest and Dearest

Lost Heir, The

Lost Lady of Lone, The

Love's Bitterest Cup
Sequel to Her Mother's Secret

Mysterious Marriage, The
Sequel to A Leap in the Dark

Nearest and Dearest

Noble Lord, A
Sequel to The Lost Heir

Self-Raised
Sequel to Ishmael

Skeleton in the Closet, A

Struggle of a Soul, The
Sequel to The Lost Lady of Lone

Sweet Love's Atonement

Test of Love, The
Sequel to A Tortured Heart

To His Fate
Sequel to Dorothy Harcourt's Secret

Tortured Heart, A
Sequel to The Trail of the Serpent

Trail of the Serpent, The

Tried for Her Life
Sequel to Cruel as the Grave

Unloved Wife, The

Unrequited Love, An
Sequel to For Woman's Love

Victor's Triumph
Sequel to A Beautiful Fiend

When Love Commands

When Shadows Die
Sequel to Love's Bitterest Cup

Why Did He Wed Her?

Zenobia's Suitors
Sequel to Sweet Love's Atonement


For Sale by all Booksellers or will be sent postpaid on receipt of price,

A.L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
52 Duane Street New York



* * * * * *




PREFACE.


This story, in book form, has been called for during several years past,
but the author has reserved it until now; not only because she considers
it to be her very best work, but because it is peculiarly a national
novel, being founded on the life and career of one of the noblest of our
countrymen, who really lived, suffered, toiled, and triumphed in this
land; one whose inspirations of wisdom and goodness were drawn from the
examples of the heroic warriors and statesmen of the Revolution, and who
having by his own energy risen from the deepest obscurity to the highest
fame, became in himself an illustration of the elevating influence of
our republican institutions.

"In the Depths" he was born indeed--in the very depths of poverty,
misery, and humiliation. But through Heaven's blessing on his
aspirations and endeavors, he raised himself to the summit of fame.

He was good as well as great. His goodness won the love of all who knew
him intimately. His greatness gained the homage of the world. He became,
in a word, one of the brightest stars in Columbia's diadem of light.

His identity will be recognized by those who were familiar with his
early personal history; but for obvious reasons his real name must be
veiled under a fictitious one here.

His life is a guiding-star to the youth of every land, to show them that
there is no depth of human misery from which they may not, by virtue,
energy and perseverance, rise to earthly honors as well as to eternal
glory.

Emma D. E. N. Southworth.
Prospect Cottage,
Georgetown, D.C.




CONTENTS.

I. THE SISTERS
II. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
III. PASSION
IV. THE FATAL DEED
V. LOVE AND FATE
VI. A SECRET REVEALED
VII. MOTHER- AND DAUGHTER-IN-LAW
VIII. END OF THE SECRET MARRIAGE
IX. THE VICTIM
X. THE RIVALS
XI. THE MARTYRS OF LOVE
XII. HERMAN'S STORY
XIII. THE FLIGHT OF HERMAN
XIV. OVER NORA'S GRAVE
XV. NORA'S SON
XVI. THE FORSAKEN WIFE
XVII. THE COUNTESS AND THE CHILD
XVIII. BERENICE
XIX. NOBODY'S SON
XX. NEWS FROM HERMAN
XXI. ISHMAEL'S ADVENTURE
XXII. ISHMAEL GAINS HIS FIRST VERDICT
XXIII. ISHMAEL'S PROGRESS
XXIV. CLAUDIA TO THE RESCUE
XXV. A TURNING POINT IN ISHMAEL'S LIFE
XXVI. THE FIRE AT BRUDENELL HALL
XXVII. ISHMAEL'S FIRST STEP ON THE LADDER
XXVIII. ISHMAEL AND CLAUDIA
XXIX. YOUNG LOVE
XXX. ISHMAEL AND CLAUDIA
XXXI. ISHMAEL HEARS A SECRET FROM AN ENEMY
XXXII. AT HIS MOTHER'S GRAVE
XXXIII. LOVE AND GENIUS
XXXIV. UNDER THE OLD ELM TREE
XXXV. THE DREAM AND THE AWAKENING
XXXVI. DARKNESS
XXXVII. THE NEW HOME
XXXVIII. ISHMAEL'S STRUGGLES
XXXIX. ISHMAEL IN TANGLEWOOD
XL. THE LIBRARY
XLI. CLAUDIA
XLII. ISHMAEL AT TANGLEWOOD
XLIII. THE HEIRESS
XLIV. CLAUDIA'S PERPLEXITIES
XLV. THE INTERVIEW
XLVI. NEW LIFE
XLVII. RUSHY SHORE
XLVIII. ONWARD
XLIX. STILL ONWARD
L. CLAUDIA'S CITY HOME
LI. HEIRESS AND BEAUTY
LII. AN EVENING AT THE PRESIDENT'S
LIII. THE VISCOUNT VINCENT
LIV. ISHMAEL AT THE BALL
LV. A STEP HIGHER
LVI. TRIAL AND TRIUMPH
LVII. THE YOUNG CHAMPION
LVIII. HERMAN BRUDENELL
LIX. FIRST MEETING OF FATHER AND SON
LX. HERMAN AND HANNAH
LXI. ENVY
LXII. FOILED MALICE
LXIII. THE BRIDE ELECT
LXIV. CLAUDIA'S WOE
LXV. ISHMAEL'S WOE
LXVI. THE MARRIAGE MORNING
LXVII. BEE'S HANDKERCHIEF




ISHMAEL

OR,

"IN THE DEPTHS."




CHAPTER I.

THE SISTERS.

But if thou wilt be constant then,
And faithful of thy word,
I'll make thee glorious by my pen
And famous by my sword.
I'll serve thee in such noble ways
Was never heard before;
I'll crown and deck thee all with bays,
And love thee evermore.

--_James Graham_.

"Well, if there be any truth in the old adage, young Herman Brudenell
will have a prosperous life; for really this is a lovely day for the
middle of April--the sky is just as sunny and the air as warm as if it
were June," said Hannah Worth, looking out from the door of her hut upon
a scene as beautiful as ever shone beneath the splendid radiance of an
early spring morning.

"And what is that old adage you talk of, Hannah?" inquired her younger
sister, who stood braiding the locks of her long black hair before the
cracked looking-glass that hung above the rickety chest of drawers.

"Why, la, Nora, don't you know? The adage is as old as the hills and as
true as the heavens, and it is this, that a man's twenty-first birthday
is an index to his after life:--if it be clear, he will be fortunate; if
cloudy, unfortunate."

"Then I should say that young Mr. Brudenell's fortune will be a splendid
one; for the sun is dazzling!" said Nora, as she wound the long sable
plait of hair around her head in the form of a natural coronet, and
secured the end behind with--a thorn! "And, now, how do I look? Aint you
proud of me?" she archly inquired, turning with "a smile of conscious
beauty born" to the inspection of her elder sister.

That sister might well have answered in the affirmative had she
considered personal beauty a merit of high order; for few palaces in
this world could boast a princess so superbly beautiful as this peasant
girl that this poor hut contained. Beneath those rich sable tresses was
a high broad forehead as white as snow; slender black eyebrows so well
defined and so perfectly arched that they gave a singularly open and
elevated character to the whole countenance; large dark gray eyes, full
of light, softened by long, sweeping black lashes; a small, straight
nose; oval, blooming cheeks; plump, ruddy lips that, slightly parted,
revealed glimpses of the little pearly teeth within; a well-turned chin;
a face with this peculiarity, that when she was pleased it was her eyes
that smiled and not her lips; a face, in short, full of intelligence and
feeling that might become thought and passion. Her form was noble--being
tall, finely proportioned, and richly developed.

Her beauty owed nothing to her toilet--her only decoration was the
coronet of her own rich black hair; her only hair pin was a thorn; her
dress indeed was a masterpiece of domestic manufacture,--the cotton from
which it was made having been carded, spun, woven, and dyed by Miss
Hannah's own busy hands; but as it was only a coarse blue fabric, after
all, it would not be considered highly ornamental; it was new and clean,
however, and Nora was well pleased with it, as with playful impatience
she repeated her question:

"Say! aint you proud of me now?"

"No," replied the elder sister, with assumed gravity; "I am proud of
your dress because it is my own handiwork, and it does me credit; but as
for you--"

"I am Nature's handiwork, and I do her credit!" interrupted Nora, with
gay self-assertion.

"I am quite ashamed of you, you are so vain!" continued Hannah,
completing her sentence.

"Oh, vain, am I? Very well, then, another time I will keep my vanity to
myself. It is quite as easy to conceal as to confess, you know; though
it may not be quite as good for the soul," exclaimed Nora, with merry
perversity, as she danced off in search of her bonnet.

She had not far to look; for the one poor room contained all of the
sisters' earthly goods. And they were easily summed up--a bed in one
corner, a loom in another, a spinning-wheel in the third, and a
corner-cupboard in the fourth; a chest of drawers sat against the wall
between the bed and the loom, and a pine table against the opposite wall
between the spinning-wheel and the cupboard; four wooden chairs sat just
wherever they could be crowded. There was no carpet on the floor, no
paper on the walls. There was but one door and one window to the hut,
and they were in front. Opposite them at the back of the room was a wide
fire-place, with a rude mantle shelf above it, adorned with old brass
candlesticks as bright as gold. Poor as this hut was, the most
fastidious fine lady need not have feared to sit down within it, it was
so purely clean.

The sisters were soon ready, and after closing up their wee hut as
cautiously as if it contained the wealth of India, they set forth, in
their blue cotton gowns and white cotton bonnets, to attend the grand
birthday festival of the young heir of Brudenell Hall.

Around them spread out a fine, rolling, well-wooded country; behind them
stood their own little hut upon the top of its bare hill; below them lay
a deep, thickly-wooded valley, beyond which rose another hill, crowned
with an elegant mansion of white free-stone. That was Brudenell Hall.

Thus the hut and the hall perched upon opposite hills, looked each other
in the face across the wooded valley. And both belonged to the same vast
plantation--the largest in the county. The morning was indeed delicious,
the earth everywhere springing with young grass and early flowers; the
forest budding with tender leaves; the freed brooks singing as they ran;
the birds darting about here and there seeking materials to build their
nests; the heavens benignly smiling over all; the sun glorious; the air
intoxicating; mere breath joy; mere life rapture! All nature singing a
Gloria in Excelsis! And now while the sisters saunter leisurely on,
pausing now and then to admire some exquisite bit of scenery, or to
watch some bird, or to look at some flower, taking their own time for
passing through the valley that lay between the hut and the hall, I must
tell you who and what they were.

Hannah and Leonora Worth were orphans, living alone together in the hut
on the hill and supporting themselves by spinning and weaving.

Hannah, the eldest, was but twenty-eight years old, yet looked forty;
for, having been the eldest sister, the mother-sister, of a large
family of orphan children, all of whom had died except the youngest,
Leonora,--her face wore that anxious, haggard, care-worn and prematurely
aged look peculiar to women who have the burdens of life too soon and
too heavily laid upon them. Her black hair was even streaked here and
there with gray. But with all this there was not the least trace of
impatience or despondency in that all-enduring face. When grave, its
expression was that of resignation; when gay--and even she could be gay
at times--its smile was as sunny as Leonora's own. Hannah had a lover as
patient as Job, or as herself, a poor fellow who had been constant to
her for twelve years, and whose fate resembled her own; for he was the
father of all his orphan brothers and sisters as she had been the mother
of hers. Of course, these poor lovers could not dream of marriage; but
they loved each other all the better upon that very account, perhaps.

Lenora was ten years younger than her sister, eighteen, well grown, well
developed, blooming, beautiful, gay and happy as we have described her.
She had not a care, or regret, or sorrow in the world. She was a bird,
the hut was her nest and Hannah her mother, whose wings covered her.
These sisters were very poor; not, however, as the phrase is understood
in the large cities, where, notwithstanding the many charitable
institutions for the mitigation of poverty, scores of people perish
annually from cold and hunger; but as it is understood in the rich lower
counties of Maryland, where forests filled with game and rivers swarming
with fish afford abundance of food and fuel to even the poorest hutters,
however destitute they might be of proper shelter, clothing, or
education.

And though these orphan sisters could not hunt or fish, they could buy
cheaply a plenty of game from the negroes who did. And besides this,
they had a pig, a cow, and a couple of sheep that grazed freely in the
neighboring fields, for no one thought of turning out an animal that
belonged to these poor girls. In addition, they kept a few fowls and
cultivated a small vegetable garden in the rear of their hut. And to
keep the chickens out of the garden was one of the principal occupations
of Nora. Their spinning-wheel and loom supplied them with the few
articles of clothing they required, and with a little money for the
purchase of tea, sugar, and salt. Thus you see their living was good,
though their dress, their house, and their schooling were so very bad.
They were totally ignorant of the world beyond their own neighborhood;
they could read and write, but very imperfectly; and their only book was
the old family Bible, that might always be seen proudly displayed upon
the rickety chest of drawers.

Notwithstanding their lowly condition, the sisters were much esteemed
for their integrity of character by their richer neighbors, who would
have gladly made them more comfortable had not the proud spirit of
Hannah shrunk from dependence.

They had been invited to the festival to be held at Brudenell Hall in
honor of the young heir's coming of age and entering upon his estates.

This gentlemen, Herman Brudenell, was their landlord; and it was as his
tenants, and not by any means as his equals, that they had been bidden
to the feast. And now we will accompany them to the house of rejoicing.
They were now emerging from the valley and climbing the opposite hill.
Hannah walking steadily on in the calm enjoyment of nature, and Nora
darting about like a young bird and caroling as she went in the
effervescence of her delight.




CHAPTER II.

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT.

Her sweet song died, and a vague unrest
And a nameless longing filled her breast.

--_Whittier_.

The sisters had not seen their young landlord since he was a lad of ten
years of age, at which epoch he had been sent to Europe to receive his
education. He had but recently been recalled home by his widowed mother,
for the purpose of entering upon his estate and celebrating his majority
in his patrimonial mansion by giving a dinner and ball in the house to
all his kindred and friends, and a feast and dance in the barn to all
his tenants and laborers.

It was said that his lady mother and his two young lady sisters, haughty
and repellent women that they were, had objected to entertaining his
dependents, but the young gentleman was resolved that they should enjoy
themselves. And he had his way.

Nora had no recollection whatever of Herman Brudenell, who had been
taken to Europe while she was still a baby; so now, her curiosity being
stimulated, she plied Hannah with a score of tiresome questions about
him.

"Is he tall, Hannah, dear? Is he very handsome?"

"How can I tell? I have not seen him since he was ten years old."

"But what is his complexion--is he fair or dark? and what is the color
of his hair and eyes? Surely, you can tell that at least."

"Yes; his complexion, as well as I can recollect it, was freckled, and
his hair sandy, and his eyes green."

"Oh-h! the horrid fright! a man to scare bad children into good
behavior! But then that was when he was but ten years old; he is
twenty-one to-day; perhaps he is much improved."

"Nora, our sheep have passed through here, and left some of their wool
on the bushes. Look at that little bird, it has found a flake and is
bearing it off in triumph to line its little nest," said Hannah, to
change the subject.

"Oh, I don't care about the bird; I wish you to tell me about the young
gentleman!" said Nora petulantly, adding the question: "I wonder who
he'll marry?"

"Not you, my dear; so you had better not occupy your mind with him,"
Hannah replied very gravely.

Nora laughed outright. "Oh, I'm quite aware of that; and as for me, I
would not marry a prince, if he had red hair and a freckled face; but
still one cannot help thinking of one's landlord, when one is going to
attend the celebration of his birthday."

They had now reached the top of the hill and come upon a full view of
the house and grounds.

The house, as I said, was a very elegant edifice of white free-stone; it
was two stories in height, and had airy piazzas running the whole length
of the front, both above and below; a stately portico occupied the
center of the lower piazza, having on each side of it the tall windows
of the drawing-rooms. This portico and all these windows were now wide
open, mutely proclaiming welcome to all comers. The beautifully laid out
grounds were studded here and there with tents pitched under the shade
trees, for the accommodation of the out-door guest, who were now
assembling rapidly.

But the more honored guests of the house had not yet begun to arrive.

And none of the family were as yet visible.

On reaching the premises the sisters were really embarrassed, not
knowing where to go, and finding no one to direct them.

At length a strange figure appeared upon the scene--a dwarfish mulatto,
with a large head, bushy hair, and having the broad forehead and high
nose of the European, with the thick lips and heavy jaws of the African;
with an ashen gray complexion, and a penetrating, keen and sly
expression of the eyes. With this strange combination of features he had
also the European intellect with the African utterance. He was a very
gifted original, whose singularities of genius and character will reveal
themselves in the course of this history, and he was also one of those
favored old family domestics whose power in the house was second only to
that of the master, and whose will was law to all his fellow servants;
he had just completed his fiftieth year, and his name was Jovial.

And he now approached the sisters, saying:

"Mornin', Miss Hannah--mornin', Miss Nora. Come to see de show? De young
heir hab a fool for his master for de fust time to-day."

"We have come to the birthday celebration; but we do not know where we
ought to go--whether to the house or the tents," said Hannah.

The man tucked his tongue into his cheek and squinted at the sisters,
muttering to himself:

"I should like to see de mist'ess' face, ef you two was to present
yourselves at de house!"

Then, speaking aloud, he said:

"De house be for de quality, an' de tents for de colored gemmen and
ladies; an' de barn for de laborin' classes ob de whites. Shall I hab de
honor to denounce you to de barn?"

"I thank you, yes, since it is there we are expected to go," said
Hannah.

Jovial led the way to an immense barn that had been cleaned out and
decorated for the occasion. The vast room was adorned with festoons of
evergreens and paper flowers. At the upper end was hung the arms of the
Brudenells. Benches were placed along the walls for the accommodation of
those who might wish to sit. The floor was chalked for the dancers.

"Dere, young women, dere you is," said Jovial loftily, as he introduced
the sisters into this room, and retired.

There were some thirty-five or forty persons present, including men,
women, and children, but no one that was known to the sisters. They
therefore took seats in a retired corner, from which they watched the
company.

"How many people there are! Where could they all have come from?"
inquired Nora.

"I do not know. From a distance, I suppose. People will come a long way
to a feast like this. And you know that not only were the tenants and
laborers invited, but they were asked to bring all their friends and
relations as well!" said Hannah.

"And they seemed to have improved the opportunity," added Nora.

"Hush, my dear; I do believe here come Mr. Brudenell and the ladies,"
said Hannah.

And even as she spoke the great doors of the barn were thrown open, and
the young landlord and his family entered.

First came Mr. Brudenell, a young gentleman of medium height, and
elegantly rather than strongly built; his features were regular and
delicate; his complexion fair and clear; his hair of a pale, soft,
golden tint; and in contrast to all this, his eyes were of a deep, dark,
burning brown, full of fire, passion, and fascination. There was no
doubt about it--he was beautiful! I know that is a strange term to apply
to a man, but it is the only true and comprehensive one to characterize
the personal appearance of Herman Brudenell. He was attired in a neat
black dress suit, without ornaments of any kind; without even a
breastpin or a watch chain.

Upon his arm leaned his mother, a tall, fair woman with light hair,
light blue eyes, high aquiline features, and a haughty air. She wore a
rich gray moire antique, and a fine lace cap.

Behind them came the two young lady sisters, so like their mother that
no one could have mistaken them. They wore white muslin dresses, sashes
of blue ribbon, and wreaths of blue harebells. They advanced with smiles
intended to be gracious, but which were only condescending.

The eyes of all the people in the barn were fixed upon this party,
except those of Nora Worth, which were riveted upon the young heir.

And this was destiny!

There was nothing unmaidenly in her regard. She looked upon him as a
peasant girl might look upon a passing prince--as something grand,
glorious, sunlike, and immeasurably above her sphere; but not as a
human being, not as a young man precisely like other young men.

While thus, with fresh lips glowingly apart, and blushing cheeks, and
eyes full of innocent admiration, she gazed upon him, he suddenly turned
around, and their eyes met full. He smiled sweetly, bowed lowly, and
turned slowly away. And she, with childlike delight, seized her sister's
arm and exclaimed:

"Oh, Hannah, the young heir bowed to me, he did indeed!"

"He could do no less, since you looked at him so hard," replied the
sister gravely.

"But to me, Hannah, to me--just think of it! No one ever bowed to me
before, not even the negroes! and to think of him--Mr. Brudenell--bowing
to me--me!"

"I tell you he could do no less; he caught you looking at him; to have
continued staring you in the face would have been rude; to have turned
abruptly away would have been equally so; gentlemen are never guilty of
rudeness, and Mr. Brudenell is a gentleman; therefore he bowed to you,
as I believe he would have bowed to a colored girl even."

"Oh, but he smiled! he smiled so warmly and brightly, just for all the
world like the sun shining out, and as if, as if--"

"As if what, you little goose?"

"Well, then, as if he was pleased."

"It was because he was amused; he was laughing at you, you silly child!"

"Do you think so?" asked Nora, with a sudden change of tone from gay to
grave.

"I am quite sure of it, dear," replied the elder sister, speaking her
real opinion.

"Laughing at me," repeated Nora to herself, and she fell into thought.

Meanwhile, with a nod to one a smile to another and a word to a third,
the young heir and his party passed down the whole length of the room,
and retired through an upper door. As soon as they were gone the negro
fiddlers, six in number, led by Jovial, entered, took their seats, tuned
their instruments, and struck up a lively reel.

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