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About The American. (Omaha, Nebraska) 1891-1899 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 5, 1898)
THE AMERICAN. THE WANDERING JEW. M . ft t il U't r H XI.V itmv ,ik jH, think it vey feiful, Ac "'',' mi I th gill, " nit-l it 4 no aeiitn, that M, lliittlv loh Oil II tdV a proper dIMon Ot til" ul'Jfl, A for wlml happened 1 1 ip morning to th young 11) , ll a'p" ir to i.ie, that, iiiHtifilinti lv iu M. ltrlvn return, you tdiould a-k f ir ti itttrrv i ilh liitn, km I, however delicate Mich loiniuuii. cation my be, tell liim H tint lut pad " "There in (In dilhcully, Nhall I not seem a If wishing to piy into tiin serrels?" " If the young lady had not been followed, I should hae liarnl your scruples. Hut lie im watched, a 1 1 I in evidently in danger. It i there, fore, In my opinion, your duty to wai n M, Hardy. Hoppos (which in nut improbable) that the lady li married; wouM It not !e better, for a thousand reasons, that M. Hardy ahnuld know all?" " You are-right, my good sister; I will follow your advice. M. Hardy shall know everything. Hut now tli At we have spoken of others. I have to speak of myiielf yea, of myself for it concerns a matter, on which may depend the happiness of my whole life," added the smith, in u tone of seriousness, wnich struck his hearer. "You know," proceeded Agricola, after a moment's silence, " that, from my childhood, I have never concealed anything from you that I have told you everything absolutely everything?" "1 know it, Agricohi, I know it," said the hunchback, stretching out her white and slender hand to the smith, who grasped it cordially, uud thus continued; "When I say everything, I am not quite exact for I have always concealed from you my little love-afl'airs because, though wo may tell almost anything to a sister, there arc some things of which we ought not to apeak to a good and virtuous girl, such as you are," " I thank you, Agricola. had remarked this reserve on your port," observed the other, cast ing down her eyes, and heroically repressing the grief ahe felt; "I thank you." "Hut for the very reason, that I made it a duty never to speak to you of sueh love affairs, I said to myself, if ever it should happen that f have a serious passion such a love us makes ono think of marriage oh 1 then, just as we tell our sister even before our father and mother, my good sister ahall bo the firit to be informed of it." "You are Very kind, Agricola." " Well then! the serious passion has como at last, I am over head and ears in love, and I think of marriage." At these words of Agricola, poor Mother Hunch felt herself for an instant paralyzed. It seemed as if all her blood was suddenly frozen in her reins. For some seconds, she thought ahe wai going to die. Her heart ceased to beat; she felt it, not breaking, but melting away to nothing. Then, the first blasting emotion over, like those martyrs who found, in the very excitement of pain, the terrible power to smile in the midst of tortures, the unfortunate girl found, in the fear of betraying the aeeret of her fatal ridiculoui Jove, almost incredible energy. Rhe raised her head, looked at the smith calmly, almost serenely, and said to him in a firm voice: "Ah! so, you truly lovo?" "That is to say, my good sister, that, for the la-t four days, I scarely live at all or live only upon this patssion." " It it only since four dayi that you have been in love?" " Not more but time has nothing to do with it," "And is she very pretty7" "Dark hair the figure of a nymph fair as a lily blue eyes, as large as that and as mild, as good as your own," "You flatter me, Agricolu." "No, no, it i Angela that I flatter for that's her name, What pretty one! Is it not, my good Mother Hunch? "A charming name," said tho poor girl, con trusting bitterly that graceful appellation with her own nickname, which the thoughtless Agri cola applied to her without thinking of it, Then she resumed, with fearful calmness: "Angela? yes, it a charming name! " "Well, then! imagine to yourself, that this narno is not only suited to her face, but to her heart to be almost equal to yours," "Rhe has my eyes she has my heart," said Mother Hunch, smiling, "It is singular, how like we arc." Agricola did not perceive the irony of despair contained in these words. He resumed, with a tenderness as sincere as it was inexorable: "Do you think, my good girl, that I could' ever have fallen seriously in love with anyone, who had not in character, heart, and mind, much of you?" "Come, brother," aaid the girl, smiling yes, the unfortunate creature had the strength to smile; "come, brother, you are in a gallant vein t l Wh did )mi luak the a (iiatnUm e t.f thtl beautiful JTonng -vtoli" "M i only the iir t wot i f my mate Her mother i th hea l UunltcM in mm omuifln I v d'tog, and m hr a in ul of atitant, and alaejt lake in prcfiuiue th illation f memb ti t.f the aM"iatin, Mrs lrlin (that's the motht'a name i ot for her daughter from I. ill, hi h bad hrett Mopping with one of her mi nl , and, for the laM live days, the ban been in lb" laundry. The tirt evening I taw her, I ped tine boor, after wink wa over, in talking with lo r, nnd her mother and brother, and the next day, I fell that my hart was gone; the day after that, the feeling wan only alronger .md now am quite mad alnnit her, and re. solved on marriage according a you shall de cide. Do not be surprised at this; everything depends upon you. I ahall only auk my father and mother's leave, after I have yours." "I do not understand you, Agrieola." "You know the utter confidence I havo in the incredi ble instinct of your heart. Many times, you have said to me: 'Agricola, love this person, love that person, have confidence, in that other' and never yet were you deceived. Well I you must now render me the same service. You will ask permission of Mdlle. de Cardovillo to absent yourself; I will take you to the factory: I have poken of you to Mrs. Heitin and her daughter, as of a beloved sister; and, according to your im pression at sight of Angela, I will declare myself or not. This may be childishness, or supersti tion, on my part; but I am so made." " Po it so," answered Mother Hunch, with he roic courage; "I will see Mdlle. Angela; I will tell you what I think of her and that, mind you, sincerely." " I know it. When will you come?" " I must ask Mdlle. do Cardovillo what day she can spare me, I will let you know." "Thanks, my good sister!" said Agricola, warmly; then he added, with a smile: "Hring your best judgment with you your full dreHs judgment." "Do not make a jest of it brother," mid Moth er Hunch, in a mild, sad voice; "it is a serious matter, for it concerns the happiness of your whole life." At this moment, a modest knock was heard at the door. "Come in," said Mother Hunch. Florine appeared, "My mistress begs that you will come to her, if you urc not engaged," said Florine to Mother Hunch. The latter rose, and, addressing the smith, said to him: "1'lcasewait a moment, Agricola, I will ask Mdlle. de Cardovillo what day I can dispose of, and I will come to tell you," Ho say ing, the girl went out, leaving Agricola with Florine. I should have much wished to pay my re spects to Mdllo, de Cardoville," said Agricola; "but I feared to intrude.' "My ludy is not quite well, sir," suid Florine, "and receives no one today, I am sure, that as soon as is belter, sho will be quite pleased to see you." Here Mother Hunch returned, and said to Agricola: "If you can como for mo tomorrow, about three o'clock, so as not to lose the whole day, we will go to the factory, and you can bring me back in the evening," "Then, at threo o'clock tomorrow, my good s'mfer," "At three, tomorrow, Agricola." The evening of that same duy, when all was quiet in the hotel, Mother Hunch, who had re muined till ten o'clock with Mdlle, do Cardovillo, re-entered her bedchamber, locked the door after her, and finding herself at length free and unre strained, threw herself on her knees before a chair, and burst into tears, 8he wept long very long, When her tears at length ceased to flow, she dried her eyes, approached the writing-desk, drew out one of the boxes from the pigeon-hole, and, taking from this hiding-placo the manu script which Florine had ao rapidly glanced over the evening before, she wrote in it during a por tion of tho night. CHAPTER XLVI. MOTH Kit ULNCIl's UUKV. We have said that the hunchback wrote dur ing a portion of the night, in the book discovered the previous evening by Florine, who had not ventured to take it away, until she had informed the persons who employed her of ifs contents, and until she had received their final orders on the subject, Let us explain the existence of this manuscript, before opening it to the reader, Tho clay on which Mother Hunch firfct became aware of her lovo for Agricola, the first word of this manuscript had been written. Endowed with an essentially trusting character, yet always feeling herself restrained by the dread of ridicule a dread which, in its painful exaggeration, was the workgirl's only weakness to whom could the uitf'ittinl rratiuo ha ronfi.. the . tt f that fatal J Mj,n, if nt tfl paper that mut r vn I. tant f timid and m fining .nl. that patent fliMid, tileul fijh , ntr.il nnd ),, if II lurtkea ti. rt ply t, henrttrhdilttf m1lhtt, t lat aUaya listm. and never fmgH." Whtn her heart wt uvt t f.tuig ill. rnmlum, .uietim mild and d, aometimra brb and bitter, the or noikfilil, rinding a mrUmboly barm in the dumb and solitary outpouring nf tU soul, now tb.thtd in the form of nimple and ton. hiiig pi.eln, and now in unaudited pro-, bad accustomed beta If by degress hot to routine1 her confidence! to what immediately related to1 Agricola, for though he might be niued uj with all her thought, other reflections, which the sight of beauty, of happy love, of maternity, of wealth, of misfortune, called up within her, wete so impressed with the influence of her unfortun ate jxTsonal position, that ahe would not even have dared to communicate them to him. Nu h, then, was this journal of a poor daughter of the people, weak, deformed and miserable, but en dowed with an angelic soul, and a fine intellect, improved by reading, meditation uud solitude; pages quite unknown, which yet contained many deep and strikiug views, both as regards men and things, taken from the peculiar standpoint in which fate had placed this unfortunate crea ture. The following lines, here and there abrupt ly interrupted or stained with tears, according to the current of her vurious emotions, on hearing of Agricola's deej) love for Angela, formed the hint pages of this journal: " Friday, March 3rd, 1S.TJ. " I spent the night without any painful dreams. This morning, I rose with no sorrowful presenti ment. I was calm and tranquil when Agricola came. He did not appear to me agitated. He was simple and affectionate as he always is. He spoke to me of events relating to M. Hardy, and then, without transition, without hesitation, he said to me: 'The last four days I have been desperately in lovo. The sentiment is so serious, that I think of marriage. I have como to con sult you about it.' That was how this overwhelm ing revelation was made to me naturally and cordially I on ono sido of the hearth, and Agri cola on tho other, as if we had talked of indifl'er ent things. And yet no more is needed to break one's heart, Borne one Miters, embraces you like a brother, sits down, talks and then Oh, merciful heaven! my head wanders, " I feel calmer now. Courage, my poor heart, courage! Should a day of misfortune again over whelm me, I will read these lines written under tho impression of the most c ruel grief I can ever feel, and I will soy to myself; What is the pre sent woe compared to that pul?' My grief is indeed cruel! it is illegitimate, ridiculous, shame ful; I should not dare to confess it, even to tho most indulgent of mothers. Alas! there are some fearful sorrows, which yet rightly make men shrug their shoulders in pity or contempt, Alas! these are forbidden misfortunes. Agricola has asked me to go tomorrow, to see this young girl to whom he is so passionately attached, and whom he will marry, if the instinct of my heart should approve tho marriage. This thought is fhe most painful of all those which have tortured me, since he so pitilessly announced this love, I'itilessly? No, Agricola no, my brother for give me this unjust cry of pain! Is it that you know, can even suspect, thai I love y u better than you can ever love, this charming creature? "Dark-haired the figure of a nymph fair as a lily with bluo eyes as large as that and almost as mild as your own,' "That is the portrait he drew of her. Toor Agricola! how would ho havo suffered, had ho known that every one of his words was tearing my heart! Never did I so strongly feel the deep commiseration and tender pity, inspired by a good, aU'eclioiialo being, who, in the sincereity of his ignorance, gives you your death-wound with a smile. We do not blame him no we pity him to the full extent of the grief that ho would feel on learning the pain he had caused us, It is strange! but never did Agricola appear to me more handsome than this morning. His manly countenance was slightly agitated, as ho spoke of tho uneasiness of that pretty young lady. As I listened to him describing the agony of a woman who runs th6 risk of ruin for the man she loves, I felt my heart beat violently, my hands were burning, a soft langor floated over mo Ridic ulous folly! As if I had any right to feel thus! "I remember that, while he spoke, I cast a rapid glance at the glass, I felt proud that I was so well dressed; he had not even remarked it; but no matter it seemed to me that my cap became me, that my hair shone finely, my gaze beamed mild 1 found Agricola so handsome, that I almost began to think myself less ugly no doubt, to excuse myself in my own eyes for daring to lovo him. After all, what happened today would ha hj pn one dy or a U.t ', Ya, that ! i .ii lii !,k Ih thoubll tht d-lh i vlhni. u-t It imil .me i lt H t ! M ftl in l t ilh hfr' ba Iron liU fieni fr n nm id the lat i.um f th unf-iftuitatv, h.t prefer tripling in i tod to if nifitnioii ntng hi cteatule by the .rur i,f duty. On mutt not only think f !f, And 1 tfflecit l ! Mtv jg jj , aUa good inr the tuot wtrlrhed beinj tin I itpjtluniUe f,r lot and devotion.' Ho i it that I, so wrsk and jo.r, hav alaat found means to be helpful and useful to .in mi "This Very day 1 f . U tempted to make an end with life Agricola mid his mother had no long, er need of m Yes, but the unfortunate crea tures whom M.lll. de Cardoville has coiumia sioned me to watrh over? but my benefactress herself, though she has affectionately reproached me with the tenacity of my suspicions in regard to that man? I am more than ever alarmed for her I feel that she is more than ever in danger more than ever, I have faith in the value of my presence near her. Hence, I must live, hive to go tomorrow to see this girl, whom Agricola passionately loves? Uood heaven! why have I always known grief, and never hate? There must be a bitter pleasure in hating. So many people hate! Perhaps I may bale this girl Angela, as he called her, when he said, with so much simplicity: 'A charming n;me, is it not, Mother Hunch?' Compare this name, which re calls nu idea so full of grace, with the ironicil symbol of my witch's deformity! Poor Agricola! poor brother! gooduess is sometimes as blind as malice, I see. Should 1 hate this young girl? Why? ' Did she deprive me of the beauty which charms Agricola? Can I find fault with her for being beautiful? When I was not yet accus tomed to the consequences of my ugliness, I asked myself, with bitter curiosity, why the Crea tor had endowed his creatures so unequally. Tho habit of pain has allowed me to reflect calmly, and havo finished by persuading myself, that to beauty and ugliness are attached tho two most noble emotions of the soul admiration and com passion. Those who are like me admire beauti ful persons such as Angela, such as Agricola' and these in their turn feel a touching pity for such as I am. Sometimes, in spite of one's self, one Iiub very foolish hopes. IJecause Agricola, from a feeling of propriety, had never spoken to me of his lovo affairs, I sometimes persuaded my self that he had none that ho loved me, and that the fear of ridicule alone was with him, as with me, an obstacle in the way of confessing it, Yes, I have even made verses on that subject and those, I think, not the worst I have written. "Mine is a singular position! If I love, I am ridiculous; if any love me, he is still more rlI ic ulous. How did I come so to forget that, as to have suffered -and to suffer what I do? But blessed be that suffering, since it has not engen dered hate no; for I will not hate this girl I will perforin a sister's part to the last; I will fol low the guidance of my heart; I havo the in tinct of preserving others my heart will lead and en lighten me. My only fear is, that I shall burst into tears when I see her, and not be able to con quer my emotion. Oh, then! what a revelation to Agricola a discovery of tho mad love he has inspired! Oh, never! the day in which he knew that, would be the last of my life. There would then be within me something stronger than duty the longing to escape from shame that incur able shame, that burns mo like hot iron. No, no; I will be calm. Hesides, did I not just now, when with him, bear courageously a terrible trial? I will be calm. My personal feelings must not darken the second-sight, so clear for those I love. Oh! painful, painful task! for tho fear of yielding involuntarily to evil sentiments must not render me too indulgent towards this girl. I might compromise Agricola's happiness, since my le cision is to guide his choice. Poor creature that I U'l! How I deceive myself! Agricola asks my advice, because he thinks that I shall not have the melancholy courage to opposo his passion; or else he would say to me: 'No matter I love; and I brave tho future! ' s "Uut then, if my advice, if the instincts of my heart, are not to guide him if his resolution is taken beforehand of what use will be tomorrow's painful mission? Of what use? To obey him. Did he not say 'Come!' In thinking of my devotion for him, how many times, in the secret depths of my heart, I have asked myself, if the thought had ever occurred to him to love me otherwise than us a sisfer; if it had ever struck him, what a devoted wife ho would have in me! And why should it have occurred to him? As long as he wished, as long us be may still wish, I have been, and I shall be, as devoted to him, as if I were his wife, sister or mother. Why should ho desire what he already possesses? "Married to him oh, Ood! tho dream is mad as ineffable. Are not such thoughts of celestial sweetness which include all sentiments from