Beauty and The Beast by Bayard Taylor (sci fi books to read TXT) 📕

“`Eunice, the others are driving me mad with their candor; will you let me be candid, too?’

“`I think you are always candid, Enos,’ she answered.

“Even then, if I had hesitated, I should have been lost. But I went on, without pausing—

“`Eunice, I love you—I have loved you since we first met. I came here that I might be near you; but I must leave you forever, and to-night, unless you can trust your life in my keeping. God help me, since we have been together I have lost my faith in almost everything but you. Pardon me, if I am impetuous—different from what I have seemed. I have struggled so hard to speak! I have been a coward, Eunice, because of my love. But now I have spoken, from my heart of hearts. Look at me: I can bear it now. Read the truth in my eyes, before you answer.’

“I felt her hand tremble while I spoke. As she turned towards me her face, which had been averted, the moon shone full upon it, and I saw that tears were upon her cheeks. What was said—whether anything was said—I cannot tell. I felt the blessed fact, and that was enough. That was the dawning of the true Arcadia.”

Mrs. Billings, who had been silent during this recital, took her husband’s hand and smiled. Mr. Johnson felt a dull pang about the region of his heart. If he had a secret, however, I do not feel justified in betraying it.

“It was late,” Mr. Billings continued, “before we returned to the house. I had a special dread of again encountering Miss Ringtop, but she was wandering up and down the bluff, under the pines, singing, `The dream is past.’ There was a sound of loud voices, as we approached the stoop. Hollins, Shelldrake and his wife, and Abel Mallory were sitting together near the door. Perkins Brown, as usual, was crouched on the lowest step, with one leg over the other, and rubbing the top of his boot with a vigor which betrayed to me some secret mirth. He looked up at me from under his straw hat with the grin of a malicious Puck, glanced towards the group, and made a curious gesture with his thumb. There were several empty pint-bottles on the stoop.

“`Now, are you sure you can bear the test?’ we heard Hollins ask, as we approached.

“`Bear it? Why to be sure!’ replied Shelldrake; `if I couldn’t bear it, or if YOU couldn’t, your theory’s done for. Try! I can stand it as long as you can.’

“`Well, then,’ said Hollins, `I think you are a very ordinary man. I derive no intellectual benefit from my intercourse with you, but your house is convenient to me. I’m under no obligations for your hospitality, however, because my company is an advantage to you. Indeed if I were treated according to my deserts, you couldn’t do enough for me.’

“Mrs. Shelldrake was up in arms.

“`Indeed,’ she exclaimed, `I think you get as good as you deserve, and more too.’

“`Elvira,’ said he, with a benevolent condescension, `I have no doubt you think so, for your mind belongs to the lowest and most material sphere. You have your place in Nature, and you fill it; but it is not for you to judge of intelligences which move only on the upper planes.’

“`Hollins,’ said Shelldrake, `Elviry’s a good wife and a sensible woman, and I won’t allow you to turn up your nose at her.’

“`I am not surprised,’ he answered, `that you should fail to stand the test. I didn’t expect it.’

“`Let me try it on YOU!’ cried Shelldrake. `You, now, have some intellect,—I don’t deny that,—but not so much, by a long shot, as you think you have. Besides that, you’re awfully selfish in your opinions. You won’t admit that anybody can be right who differs from you. You’ve sponged on me for a long time; but I suppose I’ve learned something from you, so we’ll call it even. I think, however, that what you call acting according to impulse is simply an excuse to cover your own laziness.’

“`Gosh! that’s it!’ interrupted Perkins, jumping up; then, recollecting himself, he sank down on the steps again, and shook with a suppressed `Ho! ho! ho!’

“Hollins, however, drew himself up with an exasperated air.

“`Shelldrake,’ said he, `I pity you. I always knew your ignorance, but I thought you honest in your human character. I never suspected you of envy and malice. However, the true Reformer must expect to be misunderstood and misrepresented by meaner minds. That love which I bear to all creatures teaches me to forgive you. Without such love, all plans of progress must fail. Is it not so, Abel?’

“Shelldrake could only ejaculate the words, `Pity!’ `Forgive?’ in his most contemptuous tone; while Mrs. Shelldrake, rocking violently in her chair, gave utterance to that peculiar clucking, `TS, TS, TS, TS,’ whereby certain women express emotions too deep for words.

“Abel, roused by Hollins’s question, answered, with a sudden energy—

“`Love! there is no love in the world. Where will you find it? Tell me, and I’ll go there. Love! I’d like to see it! If all human hearts were like mine, we might have an Arcadia; but most men have no hearts. The world is a miserable, hollow, deceitful shell of vanity and hypocrisy. No: let us give up. We were born before our time: this age is not worthy of us.’

“Hollins stared at the speaker in utter amazement. Shelldrake gave a long whistle, and finally gasped out—

“`Well, what next?’

“None of us were prepared for such a sudden and complete wreck of our Arcadian scheme. The foundations had been sapped before, it is true; but we had not perceived it; and now, in two short days, the whole edifice tumbled about our ears. Though it was inevitable, we felt a shock of sorrow, and a silence fell upon us. Only that scamp of a Perkins Brown, chuckling and rubbing his boot, really rejoiced. I could have kicked him.

“We all went to bed, feeling that the charm of our Arcadian life was over. I was so full of the new happiness of love that I was scarcely conscious of regret. I seemed to have leaped at once into responsible manhood, and a glad rush of courage filled me at the knowledge that my own heart was a better oracle than those—now so shamefully overthrown—on whom I had so long implicitly relied. In the first revulsion of feeling, I was perhaps unjust to my associates. I see now, more clearly, the causes of those vagaries, which originated in a genuine aspiration, and failed from an ignorance of the true nature of Man, quite as much as from the egotism of the individuals. Other attempts at reorganizing Society were made about the same time by men of culture and experience, but in the A. C. we had neither. Our leaders had caught a few half-truths, which, in their minds, were speedily warped into errors. I can laugh over the absurdities I helped to perpetrate, but I must confess that the experiences of those few weeks went far towards making a man of me.”

“Did the A. C. break up at once?” asked Mr. Johnson.

“Not precisely; though Eunice and I left the house within two days, as we had agreed. We were not married immediately, however. Three long years—years of hope and mutual encouragement—passed away before that happy consummation. Before our departure, Hollins had fallen into his old manner, convinced, apparently, that Candor must be postponed to a better age of the world. But the quarrel rankled in Shelldrake’s mind, and especially in that of his wife. I could see by her looks and little fidgety ways that his further stay would be very uncomfortable. Abel Mallory, finding himself gaining in weight and improving in color, had no thought of returning. The day previous, as I afterwards learned, he had discovered Perkins Brown’s secret kitchen in the woods.

“`Golly!’ said that youth, in describing the circumstance to me, `I had to ketch TWO porgies that day.’

“Miss Ringtop, who must have suspected the new relation between Eunice and myself, was for the most part rigidly silent. If she quoted, it was from the darkest and dreariest utterances of her favorite Gamaliel.

“What happened after our departure I learned from Perkins, on the return of the Shelldrakes to Norridgeport, in September. Mrs. Shelldrake stoutly persisted in refusing to make Hollins’s bed, or to wash his shirts. Her brain was dull, to be sure; but she was therefore all the more stubborn in her resentment. He bore this state of things for about a week, when his engagements to lecture in Ohio suddenly called him away. Abel and Miss Ringtop were left to wander about the promontory in company, and to exchange lamentations on the hollowness of human hopes or the pleasures of despair. Whether it was owing to that attraction of sex which would make any man and any woman, thrown together on a desert island, finally become mates, or whether she skilfully ministered to Abel’s sentimental vanity, I will not undertake to decide: but the fact is, they were actually betrothed, on leaving Arcadia. I think he would willingly have retreated, after his return to the world; but that was not so easy. Miss Ringtop held him with an inexorable clutch. They were not married, however, until just before his departure for California, whither she afterwards followed him. She died in less than a year, and left him free.”

“And what became of the other Arcadians?” asked Mr. Johnson.

“The Shelldrakes are still living in Norridgeport. They have become Spiritualists, I understand, and cultivate Mediums. Hollins, when I last heard of him, was a Deputy-Surveyor in the New York Custom-House. Perkins Brown is our butcher here in Waterbury, and he often asks me—`Do you take chloride of soda on your beefsteaks?’ He is as fat as a prize ox, and the father of five children.”

“Enos!” exclaimed Mrs. Billings, looking at the clock, “it’s nearly midnight! Mr. Johnson must be very tired, after such a long story.

The Chapter of the A. C. is hereby closed!”

FRIEND ELI’S DAUGHTER.

I.

The mild May afternoon was drawing to a close, as Friend Eli Mitchenor reached the top of the long hill, and halted a few minutes, to allow his horse time to recover breath. He also heaved a sigh of satisfaction, as he saw again the green, undulating valley of the Neshaminy, with its dazzling squares of young wheat, its brown patches of corn-land, its snowy masses of blooming orchard, and the huge, fountain like jets of weeping willow, half concealing the gray stone fronts of the farmhouses. He had been absent from home only six days, but the time seemed almost as long to him as a three years’ cruise to a New Bedford whaleman. The peaceful seclusion and pastoral beauty of the scene did not consciously appeal to his senses; but he quietly noted how much the wheat had grown during his absence, that the oats were up and looking well, that Friend Comly’s meadow had been ploughed, and Friend Martin had built his half of the line-fence along the top of the hill-field. If any smothered delight in the loveliness of the spring-time found a hiding-place anywhere in the well-ordered chambers of his heart, it never relaxed or softened the straight, inflexible lines of his face. As easily could his collarless drab coat and waistcoat have flushed with a sudden gleam of purple or crimson.

Eli Mitchenor was at peace with himself and the world—that is, so much of the