The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1859-04-07

to appoint day, not very remote, for their
union. After which blushing arrangement was
concluded he led her to her mother, and the
two embraced and kissed and wept over each
other, precisely according to the usual custom
of women in such emergencies, and Mrs Flem-
ing blessed them, and kissed them, and, as was
to be supposed, they were all exceedingly hap.
py.
Things now began to settle down into some
thing like an orderly routine. The women were
very busy preparing for the wedding. Plato
bestirred himself still more industriously than
ever among the books. Richard was at work
in the garden and conservatory, assisted by
Abdullah and Brawny Back, whom he had en-
listed into his corps, while Jasper, closeted with
MIR. Digest, or riding about the country, was
very industriously making himself master of the
details of his extensive estate, the management
of which his mother now gave up entirely into
his hands; -and developing and maturing his
plans for improvements, his schedules of work,
and his schemes of usefulness.
Thus passed away three or four months, at
the end of which time, all the preliminary mat
tiers having been duly arranged, Mr.. Classic was
one morning invited to come into the hall in
his gown and with his prayer book, and there,
in the stately library, in the presence of two or
three invited friends and the members of their
household, Ruth Congreve became Ruth Elem
ing, and Jasper held to his breast the one whom
he had chosen to be the companion of his life,
his helper in good works, and the cherished
wife of his bosom. After breakfast, the bride
and groom, accompanied only by Mrs. Fleming
senior, set out on the customary tour.
1t was during this bridal tour that occurred
Jaspers frstdecided act of selfconquest, since
he had entered upon his new life. 1t was the
crucial experiment, and he proved himself ca
pable of carrying out the plans he had con-
celved. That the reader may see that we have
not overrated our friends capacity for good and
the promises for usefulness and honor that his
life holds out we ask permission briefly to mar
rate the circumstance, ere we conclude our
history and take final leave of him whose turns
of fortune and phases of thought we have been
endeavOring to portray.
Mr.. Clinquant had sauntered into the hotel
paror one forenoon in search of an acouaint.
ance, when he saw Mrs. Fleming and Ruth,
the centre of large group of gentlemen and
ladies. he was aware of the recent marriage,
but did not recognise Jasper, who was sitting
a little on one side, with his eyes fastened upon
his little wlfes countenance, after the manner
usual with young husbands. Clinquant, prompt
ed by know not what adverse 6end, paid his
respects to the company, most of whom he knew,
s.
II should like" said he to her, in a tone of
serenity and courtesy, admirably blended, +" |
should like to pay my respects to Mrs. Fleming
once more, if thought she had forgiven me
the unlucky contretemps that succeeded our
last meeting. Can hope for pardon?"
Mrs. Fleming was thunderstruck. Did this
man, this hend, the murderer OF Gilbert Con-
greve, dare to accost her, whom he knew to have
so loved Gilbert, and that, too, when Cilbert's
daughter was by her side? Did he dare: and
to speak of his bloody deed in that hippant wa Y,
as a contretemps! The fendishress OF the
whole thing so amazed her that she could say
nothing, could not rise, did notice how pale
Ruth was, and how she chung TO her, TREMBLING.
But, ere she could recover, Jasper had sprung
to his feet with the mad fury of wounded lion,
had seized the astute man by the throat, and
dashed him violently down. sh9gtinssi rr yvu
The gentlemen had instantly separated them,
and Clinquant was again on his feet, his bright
eye wondrously changed, and his face livid with
malignant rage. He moved towards the door
silently, and then, ere he reached it, he address
ed Mrs. Fleming in slow and deliberate tone,
pointing his words with his forefnger:
Il have shown you, madam how dislike
no'o, will show you how | can hate!" Such
terrible emphasis as he put o.. taat word
hate" Then, turning towards Jasper, he said
with mock bow, " You shall hear from me,
sir; and hope to have the pleasure of killing
you"
II will wait your summens, you sceundrel,
and hope to have the pleasure of scourging
a slandereH and furnishing a murderer, as /
have just had Of chastising an impertinent ruff
fan" Jasper was infuriated at the mans cool
villiany, and did not pick his words.
| II bo nj Al L.
schoolboy because he INDUCES in roda,aon.
tade, said Clinquant, as he closed the door after
him.
Well, the challenge was received, accepted
the matter placed in the hands of seconds, pre-
liminaries all arranged, and Jasper locked him
self in his room. In the next room, his 200,
little wife, having exhausted her powers of en-
treaty, was sobbing in grief and terror On the
floor, while his mother, who had only said, 1T
will kill me, Jasper" was pacing up and down
the floor. Both the sobs and the steps he
could hear plainly enough, and he did not
know which of them the more affected him
And all this pain and grief was on his account
But what Such things were natural, and to
be expected. They could not be helped 1t
was his duty to meet this insulter Of his wife
and mother; this murderer; to STAY him, il
possible. The blood of Gilbert Congreve called
to him out of the ground for vengeance. This
duel was a necessity. Duelling he condemned
as a general thing. Under ordinary circIm
stances, he would not accept challenge, His
duties towards God and his fellow, his very
selfrespect, would forbid it, But this was not
such case. These circumstances were extra
ordinary. Indeed, it seemed duty, even, to
punish this slanderer of his mother, and avenge
the murder of his father-in-law But, then,
vengeance is mine, saith the Lord" Aye
that ground was, WITHOUT q doubt, altogether
untenable. Vengeance was criminal he had
to face that fact. And it was criminal to risk
his own life, and the happiness Of those dear
ones in the next room, by weighing them in
the scale with the life of this worthless villain
Twas painful thought, could he have re
fected. But it was too late, now. The mat
ter was settled. He must fight. Honor, re-
spect for himself, everything, imperatively com
manded him to fight. He could not retract
honorably. There was no chance of withdraw.
ing in the face of an adversary so malignant
so bloodthirsty. Fight he must, or endure the
tortures of the damned. To hear the cutting
sneers of that astute villain to be branded as
a coward to be called recreant to gentlemanly
principles to have to endure the cool treat
ment of misiudging world to have his friends
perhaps, act the Mercutio towards him, taunt
him with calm, dishonorable, vile submissior.'
No, mol He could not endp;e shis-better
death, than dishQpoHi Fight he must. There
was no alternative. And this, then, perhaps,
was to be the end of all I! After he had endured
SO much, gone through such long probation,
won himself back to manhood through such a
baptism of fire and woe, this was to be the re-
suit. Either to fall, pierced By the bullet of a
man whom he scorned, or to walk away, a muir
derer, a branded man If he died, what would
become of all those grand schemes, all those
splendid projects he was ripening, for the ben