Chapter 93
"I received a letter from him three weeks ago, in which he stated the fact to me. He has been in my employment ever since he has been away, but has left it and gone to Mexico."
"When did he say he would return?" she asked, in a calm voice.
"That is uncertain, madam."
She tottered out of the office, and stole home with an enfeebled step. "Forsaken!--forsaken!"--was all the form her thoughts would take, until she met the sweet face of her babe, and then her heart felt warmer, and not all forsaken.
"Poor thing! how I pity her," said the clerk in the stage-office, when Mrs. W. had retired. "Her husband is a scoundrel, that's all I know about it," responded the gentleman-gambler, who had sent Warburton out on a swindling expedition.
"The more the pity for his poor wife."
"I wonder if she has any property of his in her hands?" queried the gambler.
"Why?"
"Why?--Why because I'll have my own out of it if she has. I have his note, payable in a week, for money lent; and if he has got a dollar here, I'll have it."
"You'll not turn his wife out of doors, will you?"
"Will I?"--and his face grew dark with evil thoughts.--"Will I?--yes!--what care I for the whining wench! I'll see her to-morrow, and know what we have both to expect."
"Coulson!" said the clerk, in an excited but firm voice--"You shall not trouble that helpless, unfortunate woman!"
"_Shall not?_ ha! Pray, Mr. Sympathy, and how can you hinder me?"
"Look you to that, sir. I _act_, you know, not threaten."
The gambler's face grew darker, but the clerk turned away with a look of contempt, and resumed his employment.
That night he sought the dwelling of Mrs. Warburton. He found her boarding at a respectable house on--street. He named his business at once, and warned her not to allow herself to get in the power of Coulson, who was a gambler, and an abandoned villain.
When he understood her real situation--that she was in debt for board, and without a dollar, forsaken of her husband, and among strangers, his heart ached for her. Himself but on the salary of a clerk, he could give little or no a.s.sistance. But advice and sympathy he tendered, and requested her to call on him at any time, if she thought that he could aid her. A kind word, a sympathising tone, is, to one in such a sad condition, like gentle dews to the parched ground.
"Above all," was his parting admonition, "beware of Coulson! He will injure your character if he can. Do not see him. Forbid the servants to admit him. He will, if he fixes his heart upon seeing you, leave no stone unturned to accomplish it. But waver not in your determination. And be sure to let me know if he persecutes you too closely. Be resolute, and fear not. I know the man, and have crossed his path ere this. And he knows me."
Early on the next day, Coulson called, and with the most insinuating address, asked to see Mrs. Warburton.
"Ask him to send up his name," was Mrs. W.'s reply to the information of the servant, that a gentleman wished to speak to her.
"Coulson," was returned.
"Tell him that I cannot see him."
To this answer he sent back word that his business was important and urgent.
"Tell him that I cannot see him," was the firm reply.
Coulson left the house, baffled for once. The next day he called, and sent up another name.
"He is the same person who called himself 'Coulson' yesterday," said the servant to Mrs. W.
"Tell him that I cannot be seen."
"I'll match the huzzy yet!" he muttered to himself as he left the house.
It now became necessary for Mrs. Warburton to rally all the energies of her nature, feeble though they were, and yet untried. The rate of boarding which she was required to pay, was much beyond what she could now afford. At first she nearly gave up to despair. Thus far in life, she had never earned a single dollar, and, from her earliest recollection, the thought of working for money seemed to imply degradation. But necessity soon destroys false pride. Her greatest concern now was, what she should do for a living. She had learned to play on the piano, to draw and paint, and had practised embroidery. But in all these she had sought only amus.e.m.e.nt. In not a single one of them was she proficient enough to teach. Fine sewing she could not do. Her dresses had all been made by the mantua-maker, and her fine sewing by the family sempstress. She had been raised in idle pleasure--had spent her time in thrumming on the piano, making calls, tripping about the streets, and entertaining company.
But wherever there is the will, there is a way. Through the kind interference of a stranger, she was enabled to act decisively. Two rooms were procured, and after selling various articles of costly chamber furniture which still remained, she was enabled to furnish them plainly and comfortably, and have about fifty dollars left.
Through the kind advice of this same stranger, (where were all her former friends?) employment was had, by which she was
Her employment was making cigars. At first, the tobacco made her so sick that she was unable to hold her head up, or work more than half her time. But after awhile she became used to it, and could work steadily all day; though she often suffered with a distressing headache. Mrs. Warburton was perhaps the first woman who made cigars in--. Through the application of a third person, to a manufacturer, the work was obtained, and given, from motives of charity.
She had been thus employed for about three months, and was beginning to work skilfully enough to earn four dollars a week, and give all necessary attention to herself and child, when Mr.--, the manufacturer, received a note signed by all the journeymen in his shop, demanding of him the withdrawal of all work from Mrs.
Warburton, on pain of their refusal to work a day longer. It was an infringement, they said, upon their rights. Women could afford to work cheaper than men, and would ruin the business.
Mr.--was well off, and, withal, a man who could brook no dictation, in his business. His journeymen were paid their regular wages, and had, he knew, no right to say whom he should employ; and for any such interference he promptly resolved to teach them a lesson. He was, moreover, indignant that a parcel of men, many of whom spent more money at the taverns and in foolish expenses, in the week, than the poor forsaken mother of a young babe could earn in that time, should heartlessly endeavour to rob the more than widow of her hard-earned mite.
"I will sacrifice half that I am worth, before I will yield to such dictation," was his only answer to the demand. The foolish men "struck," and turned out to lounge idly in taverns and other places, until their employer should come to terms. They were, however, soon convinced of their folly; for but a few weeks elapsed before Mr. had employed females to make his cigars, who could afford to work for one-third less than the journeymen had been receiving, and make good wages at that. The consequence was, that the men who had, from motives of selfishness, endeavoured to deprive Mrs. W. of her only chance of support, were unable to obtain work at any price. Several of them fell into idle and dissolute habits, and became vagabonds.
Other manufacturers of cigars followed the example of Mr.--, and lessened the demand for journeymen; and the result in this instance was but a similar one to that which always follows combinations against employers--viz: to injure the interests of journeymen.
It was not long before Coulson found out the retreat of Mrs.
Warburton, and commenced his persecutions. The note of her husband had fallen due, and his first movement was to demand the payment.
Perceiving, however, at once, that to make the money out of any property in her possession was impossible, he changed his manner, and offered to befriend her in any way that lay in his power. For a moment she was thrown off her guard; but remembering the caution she had received, she a.s.sumed a manner of the most rigid coldness towards him, and told him that she already had friends who would care for her. The next day she managed to apprize the clerk in the Stage Office of the visit of Coulson, who promptly took measures to alarm his fears, for he was a coward at heart, and effectually prevent his again troubling her.
Little of an interesting nature occurred for about a year, when she received a letter from her husband at Cincinnati. He stated that having despaired of getting along in the business he had entered into on leaving--which had involved him in debt, he had left with a company of traders for Mexico, and had just returned with a little money, with which he wished to go into business. But that if he returned to--, he would be troubled, and all he had taken from him.
He enclosed her a hundred dollar note, and wished her to come to him immediately, and to leave--without letting any one know her destination. He professed much sorrow for having left her in so dest.i.tute a condition, but pleaded stern necessity for the act.
Mrs. W. did not hesitate a moment. In four days from the time she received the letter, she was on the way to Cincinnati. Arrived there, she was met by her husband with some show of affection. He was greatly changed since she had seen him, and showed many indications of irregular habits. He appeared to have plenty of money, and took rooms for his wife in a respectable boardinghouse.
The improvement in his child pleased him much. When he went away it was only about five months old--now it was a bright little boy, and could run about and chatter like a bird. After some hesitation in regard to the kind of business he should select, he at last determined to go into the river-trade. To this Mrs. Warburton gently objected; because it would keep him away from home for months together. But his capital was small, and he at length made his first purchase of produce, and started in a flat-boat for New Orleans.
Poor Mrs. W. felt as if deserted again when he left her. But at the end of three months he returned, having cleared four hundred dollars by the trip. He remained at home this time for two months, drinking and gambling; and at the expiration of that period had barely enough left to make a small purchase and start again.
Her troubles, she plainly saw, were just beginning again, and Mrs.
Warburton almost wished herself back again in the city, for which, though there she had no friends, her heart yearned.
Her husband did not return, this time, from his river-voyage, for three months; nor did he send his wife during that time any money.
The amount left her was entirely exhausted before the end of the second month, and having heard nothing of him since he went away, she feared to get in debt, and, therefore, two weeks before her money was out, applied for work at a cigar-factory. Here she was fortunate enough to obtain employment, and thus keep herself above absolute want.
Long before her husband returned, her heart had fearful forebodings of a second blighting of all its dearest hopes. Not the less painful, were those antic.i.p.ations, because she had once suffered.
One evening in June, just three months from the time her husband left, she had paused from her almost unremitted employment, during the violence of a tremendous storm, that was raging without. The thunder rattled around in startling peals, and the lightning blazed from cloud to cloud, without a moment's intermission. She could not work while she felt that the bolt of death hung over her. For half an hour had the storm raged, when in one of the pauses which indicated its pa.s.sing away, she started at the sound of a voice that seemed like that of her husband. In the next moment another voice mingled with it, and both were loud and angry. Fearfully she flung open the door, and just on the pavement, drenched with the rain, and unregardful of the storm, for one more terrible raged within, stood two men, contending with each other in mortal strife, while horrible oaths and imprecations rolled from their lips. One of these, from his distorted face, rendered momently visible in the vivid flashes of the lightning, and from his voice, though loud and disguised by pa.s.sion, she at once knew to be her husband. His antagonist was not so strong a man, but he was more active, and seemed much cooler.
Each had in his hand an open Spanish knife, and both were striking, plunging, and parrying thrusts with the most malignant fury. It was an awful sight to look upon. Two human beings striving for each other's lives amid the fury of a terrible storm, the lightnings of which glanced sharply upon their glittering knives, revealing their fiend-like countenances for an instant, and then leaving them in black darkness.
For a few moments, Mrs. Warburton stood fixed to the spot, but, recalling her scattered senses, she rushed towards the combatants, calling upon them to pause, and repeating the name of her husband in a voice of agony. The result of the strife was delayed but an instant longer, for with a loud cry her husband fell bleeding at her feet. His antagonist pa.s.sed out of sight in a moment.
Lifting the apparently lifeless form of her husband in her arms, Mrs. Warburton carried or rather dragged him into the house, and placed him upon the bed, where lay their sleeping boy. She then hurried off for the nearest physician, who was soon in attendance.
The first sound that met the ear of Mrs. Warburton, on her return, was the voice of her dear child, eagerly calling, "Pa! pa! wake up, pa!"--And there was the little fellow pulling at the insensible body of his father, in an (sic) extacy of infantile joy at his return.