SELF-RAISED; OR FROM THE DEPTHS.

Te Aroha News, Volume VIII, Issue 490, 19 July 1890, Page 6

SELF-RAISED; OR FROM THE DEPTHS.

A SEQUEL TO ISHMAEL, OR IE THE DEPTHS.” chapter I. RECOVERY. comcthiDE I know ort. shall it come about when every heart is full of hope for man, Tim horizon straight is darkened, and a doubt Clouds all. The work the youth so well Wastes /town,' and by «ome deed of shame is Ah/yet wo will not be dismayed : What scciricd the triumph of tho Fiend at iho effort of some dying devil. Permitted to put forth his fullest strength it all forever! Mhuedit „. AtVFtTL as the anguish of his parting with Cla'udii bad been, it was not likely that Ishmael, with his strength of intellect and will, would long succumb to despair. It was not in Claudia|s power to makp his lifo quite desolate ; how could it.be so whilo Reo cared for him ? '

Bee had loved Ishmael as long as Jshmael had loved Claudia. She had loved him when ho was a boy at school; when he was a young country toacher ; when he was a law-etudoni; and she had loved lum now that 1 he was a successful barrister. Ihis love, founded in esteem and honour, had constantly deepened and strengthened. In loving Ishmael, she found mental and spiritual development; and in being near him and doing-him good she found comfort and" happiness. « And being perfectly satisfied .with the present, Bee never gave a thought to the future. That she tacitly left, where it belongs, to. God. • Or if at times, on perceiving Ishmael s otter obliviousness of her own kindly pre eonce, and his perfect devotion to the thankless’Claudia, Bee felt a pang, she went and busied herself with domestic duties, or i played with the children in the' nursery, or what was better still, if it happened to be little Lu’s ‘ sleepy time ’ she would take her baby - sister up to her own room, sit down and. fold her to. her breast and rock and siug her to sleep. And certainly the clasp of those baby-armß about her neck, and .the nestling of that baby-form to her bosom, drew out all the heart-ache, and soothed all the agitation. . _ . Except these little occasional pangs Bee had always been blest in loving. Her love, all unrequited, as it> seemed, was still the sweetest thing in the world to her ; and it seemed thus,, because in fhcb it was so well approyed-b]y her mind and eo entirely unselfish. It seemed ,to be her life, or her '- soul, or. one with both ; Bee was not metaphysical enough to decide which. She would not struggle with this love, or try . to. conquer it, any more- than sho would, have striven against and tried to LTlestioy. her mental and spiritual life. On contrary she cherished it as she did her religion,’.of which. it- was a _ Bhe cherished it as she did her love of God, % with which it was united. - L 1 And loving Ishmael. in this way, -if she 1 should fail to nmrry him, Bee resolved 1 never to .marry another ; but vo live and die a maiden ; Btill cherishing, still hiding this most precious love in her Heart, as a miser hides his gold. Whether benign ligature'wo r uld have permitted the motherly Ktie “ maiden to . have .carried out this I do not know t or what Bee Hoiild have done in. the event of Ishmael s another she did not know. ■ Wheti Claudia went away, Bee, in the Hidst of her regret at.parting with her felt a. certain sense of relief i but she saw the effect' of that departure ■d after the terrible experiences of that and night, Bee’s one single thought in was —lshmael’a good. - ' ' ’ g|B) n the raoroing succeeding tbat dreadlui and night, Ishmael awoke early, in full glMsession of-his faculties. He remembered incidents of that trying day and ; reflected, upon their effects ; and IfHyed to God to deliver him from the burand guilt of. inordinate and sinful he arose, made his .toilet, react a of• the Scriptures, offered up his nrayers, and went below stairs, llHbusy little housekeeper, fluttering softly the-breakfast-table, and adding a touches to its simple elegance. fresh, and blooming looked 'her pale golden ringlets, and her dress of white muelin with nbboiis. -There was no one else in the Ijg^Bi; but Bee advanced and held out her HndTto'bim.-’ .. .. ... ■He took her hand, and retaining it m his Ham fora moment, said : .... ■ '»Olb Bee ! yesterday ! last night ! ■ * “ Upbraid* not the past; it comes not ■ ck aga-V' Ishmael, bury it. forget it, ■ft !’, replied Bee, .sweetly her hand with the impulse to ■try ifctb his lihsi; bat .refraining, bowed ■) forbhead J river;.;' it' instead, and then Kntly released it. ;;. For Ishmael s affection K’ Bee wa3:.reverential. ..To him she op■Sd saintly, Madonna*like, almost an- ■ \ me make breakfast for you at once, ■ * Aq\. It is not of the least use to wait ■ /the others. Mamma, I know; is not ■ wake yet, and none of the gentlemen have •ung for their hot water.' Pv And you, Bee; you will also, breakfast r w? ■:* 1 Certainly.’ . And she rang and gave her orders. Ana |the coffee, muffins, fried fresh perch and ■■Kited spring chickens speedily made their SKlim/ she said to the waiter who set the' on the table, 1 tell cook to keep of the perch and pullets dressed to put the fire the moment she hears tho bell ring, so that his breakfast may for him when he comes down.’ ' v j * Very well, miss,’ answered Jim, who immediately leftthe.roomtogiye the order; 1 .) soon returned to attend upon the table, v ’ itwas a tfite.-a-tfite meal, but Bee made ry pleasant. After breakfast, Ishmael Bee to her.domestic duties, and went up into the office to look after tho letters •nd/papers that had been left for him by jdihebenny postman that morning. over the newspapers; read the letters ; selected those he would need during thriday; put the others carefully away» tied bp his documents ; book up his hat and gloves, and- set out for his daily at the City Hall, the ante-room of the Orphans’ Court Kpom he met old Wiseman, who clapped Bun hastily on the shoulder, exclaiming : m * How jjre you this morning," old fellow ’ eh ?’ you, I am quite well again/ reKh, ha 1 nothing like .'good brandy Rtet one up out of a fit of exhaustion;’ |K&ij r v exclaimed Ishmael with a ehud-

Well, and have you thought over what we*were talking about yesterday ’’ ‘lb was—’ Ishmael began, and then hesitated. * It was about you going into partnership with me.’ ‘ Oh, yes ! so it was ! but I have not had time to think of it yet.’ * Well,, think over it to-day; will you, and then, after the court has adjourned, come to my chambers and talk the matter over with me. Will you ?’• 4 Thank vou, yes, certainly.’4 Ah, well ! I will not keep you any longer, for I 'see that you are in a hurry.’, * It is because I have an appointment at ten,’ said Ishmael, courteously. * Certainly ; and appointments must be kept. Good-morning.’ 4 Good-morning, Mr Wiseman.’ 4 Mind, you are to come to my chambers after the court has adjourned.’ 4 1 will remember and come,’ said Ishmael.

And each went his way. Ishmael had nob yet seriously thought of Lawyer Wiseman’s proposal. This forenoon, however, in the intervals of his professional business, he reflected on it-.. The proposed partnership was unquestionably a highly advantageous one, in a worldly point of view. Lawyer Wiseman was undoubtedly the best lawyer and commanded the largest practice at the Washington bar, with one single exception—that of the brilliant young barrister whom he proposed to associate with himself. Together, they would be invincible, carrying*every thing before them ; and Ishmael's fortune would be rapidly made. So far the offer was a very tempting one ; yet the more Ishmael reflected on it, the more determined he became to refuse .it; because, in fact, his conscience would not permit him to enter into partnership with Lawyer Wiseman, for the following reasons : Lawyer .Wiseman, a man of unimpeachable integrity in his private life, decliued to carry moral responsibility -intp his professional business. He was indiscriminate in his acceptation, of briefs. It mattered notwhether the case presented to him was a case of injustice, cruelty or oppression, so that it was a case of law, with a wealthy client to back it; the only question with Lawyer Wiseman being , the amount of the retaining fee. If his- client liberally anointed Lawyer Wiseman’s eyes with golden ointment, Lawyer Wiseman would undertake to see and make the judge and jury see anything and everything that his client wished!. With such a man as this, therefore, whatever the professional advantages of the association might be, Ishmael could not enter into partnership. And so when the court had adjourned, ishmael walked over to the chambers of Mr Wiseman on Louisiana Avenue, and in an interview with tho old lawyer, courteously declined his offer. This considerably astonished Mr Wiseman, who pressed Ishmael for the reasons of his strange refusal. Arid Ishmael, being urged, at length candidly confessed them. Instead of being angry, as might have been expected, the old lawyer was simply amused. He laughed at his young friend’s scruples, and assured him that experience would cure them. And the interview having been brought to a close, they shook hands and parted amicably. Ishmael hurried home to dine and spend the evening with the family. On the Monday following, at the order of Judge Merlin, preparations werecommenced for shutting up the town-house and leaving Washington for Tanglewood ; for the judge swore that, let anyone whatever get married, or christened, stay in the city another week he could nob, without decomposing, for that his bouL had already left his body and preceded hiin to Tanglewood, whither he must immediately follow it. Oh, but Bee had plenty of work to look after that week—the packing up of all the children’s clothes, and of all the household effects-such as silver plate, cuk-glass, fine china, cutlery, et cetera; that were to bo sent forward to Tanglewood. She would have had to overlook the packing of the books also, but that Ishmael insisted on relieving her of that task, by doing it all with his own hands, us indeed he pieferred to do it, for his love of books was almost tender. It was curious to see him straighten the leaves and brush the cover and edges of an old book before he laid it away ; or stop and mend a torn book, ns conscientiously as lie would have doctered a hurt child. They were his friends, and he was fond of them.

Ishmael continuod steadily in the performance of his duties, yet that he was still suffering very much might be observed in the abiding paleness and wasting thinness of his face, and in a certain languor and weariness in all his movements.

Bee, in the midst of her multifarious cares, did nob forget his interests ; 6he took pains to havo his favourite dishes appear on tho table to tempt him to take food. But, observing that he still ato little or nothing while he daily lost flesh, she took an opportunity of saying to him in the library : 4 Ishmael, you know I am a right good little doctresß ; I have had so much experience in nursing father and mother and the children ; so I know what I am talking about, when I tell you that you noed a tonic.’

‘Oh, Bee ! it you did but really know, little sister !’ 4 1 do know, Ishmael, I know it all 1’ she said gently. 4 “ Out of the heart are the issues of life 1” Bee, mino has received a paralysing blow/ 4 1 know it, dear Ishmael; I know it, but let your great mind sustain bhatstricken heart until it recovers the blow. And in the meantime try to get up your strength. You must have more food and more rest, and in order to secure them you must take a tonic in the morning to give you an appetite, and a sedative at night to give you sleep. That was the way we saved mamma after little Mary died, or, indeed, I think she would have followed her/ Ishmael smiled a very wan Bmile as he answered :

4 indeed, I am ashamed of this utter weakness, Bee/ . * Why should you be ? Has Providence given you any.immunity from the common lot ? We must take our human nature as it is given to us and do the-best wo can with it, I think.’ 4 What a wise little woman you are, Bee/ , 4 That’s because I’ve got a good memory. The wisdom was second-hand; Ishmael, being just what I heard you yourself say when you were defending Featherutonehaugh: . , V ... ' 44 There’s nothing original in me Excepting original sinIshmael smiled. * And, now, will you follow my advice ? 4 To the letter, dear Bee, whenever you are so good as to advise me. Ah, Bee, you seem to comprise in yourself all that I have missed of family affection, and to compensate me for the unknown love of mother, sister, friend/ _ ’. 1: : -• ' - ‘Do I, Ishmael? Oh,l wish that I rehlly did !’ said-Bee, impulsively 1 and-then she blushed deeply at suddenly apprehending tbe construction that might be put upon her words.’ Bub Ishmael answered those 'words in the spiritdn'which they wer# uttered:

I * Believe hie, Bee, you do. If I never feel I the want of homo affections it is because I 1 have them all in you. My heart finds lin you, Bee. But oh, little sister, w hat , can I ever render to you for all the good you have done me from my childhood up . 4 Render yourself good and wise and great, Ishmael, and I shall be sufficiently happy in watching your upward progress, said Bee. ■ And quietly putting down on the table a bunch of grapes that she had brought, she withdrew from the office. CHARTER 11. HERMAN AND ISHMAEL. With a deep groan he cried—* Oh. Rifted one, lam thy father! Hate me not, my son.! —Anon. Nor are my mother’s wrongs forgot; Her Blighted love and ruined name. Her offspring’s heritage of shame. Shall witness for thee from the dead How trusty and liow tender were Thy youthful love-paternal care!

Her exit was almost immediately followed by the entrance of Mr Brudenell. He also had noticed Ishmael’s condition, and attributed it to overwork,, and 'to the want of rest, with change of air. He was preparing to leave Washington for Brudenell Hall. He was going a few days in advance of Judge Merlin and the Middletons, and lie; intended to invite Ishmael to accompany him, or to como after him, and make a visit to Brudenell. He earnestly desired.to have Ishmael there to himself for a week or two. It was with this desire that he now entered tho library, , . , Ishmael arose from lua packing, and, smiling a welcome, set- a chair for his visi* tor* , ‘You are not looking well, Mr Worth,’ said Herman Brudenell, as ho took the offered seat. ... • , T •I am not well just at present, but 1 shall be so in a day or two,’ returned Ishroael.

‘.Not if you continue the course you are pursuing now, my young friend. You- require rest and change of air. I shall Washington for Brudenell Hall on Ihursday morning. It would give me great pleasure if you would accompany me thither, and remain my guest for a few weeks, to recruit your health. The place is noted for its salubrity ; and though the house has been dismantled, and has remained vacant for some time, yet 1 hope we will find it fitted up comfortably again ; for I have written down to an upholsterer of Baymouth to send in some furniture, and I have also written to a certain genius of all trades, called the 44 professor,” to go over and see it all arranged, and do what else is needed to be done for our reception.’ Ishmael smiled when ho heard the name of the professor ; but before he could make any comment, Mr Brudenell inquired. 4 What do you say, Mr Worth ? Will you accompany me thither, or will you come after me?’ , ii 4 1 thank you very much, Mr Brudenell. I should like to visit Brudenell Hall ; but ’ - 4 Then you will como ? lam very glad ! I shall be alone there with my servants, you know, and your society will bo a pod send to me. Had you not better go dawn at once when I do ? I go by land, in a hired carriage. The carriage is very comfortable and we can make the journey in two days, and lay by during the heat of both days. I think the trip will be pleasant. We can reach Brudenell Hall on Friday night, and have a good rest before Sunday, when we can go to the old country church, where you will be likely to meet the faces of some of your old friends. I think we shall bo very comfortable, keeping bachelor’s hall together at Brudenell Hall this summer, Mr Worth,' said Herman Brudenell, who longed more than tongue could tell to have Nora’s son- at home with him, though it might be only for a short time. ‘ I feel your kindness very much indeed, Mr Brudenell; and I should be very, very happy to accept your hospitable invitation ; but—l was about to say, it really is quite impossible in the existing state of my business for me to go anywhere at present,’ said Ishmael, courteously. • Indeed ? I am very sorry for that. But the reasons you give are unariswerable, I know. I am seriously disappointed. Yet I trust, though you may not bo able to come just at present, you will follow me down thero after a little while—say m the course of a few days or weeks-for I shall remain at the hall all summer and shall be always delighted to receive you. Will you promise to come ?’ •Indeed, I fear 1 cannot promise that oither, for I have a very great pressure of business; but if I can possibly manage to go, without infringing upon my duties, I shall be grateful for the privilege and very happy to avail myself of it; for—-do you know, sir ?—I was born in that neighbourhood and passed my childhood and youth there. I love the old place, and almoet long to sec the old hut whore I lived, and tho hall where I went to school, and the wooded valley that lios between them, where I gathered wild-flowers and fruits in summer and nuts in winter, and—my mother’s grave.’ said the unconscious son, speaking confidentially, and looking straight into his father’s eyes. 4 Ishmael,’ said Herman Brudenell, in a faltering voice, and forgetting to be formal, 1 you must come to me ; that grave should draw you if riothing else ; it is a pious pHgrimage when a son goes to visit his mother’s grave.’ . There was something in the new friend s words, look and manner that always drew out the young man’s confidence; and he said, in a voice trembling with emotion : • She died young, sir ; and oh ! so sorrow: fully! She was only nineteen, two years younger than I am now ; and her son was motherless the hour he was born.’ Violent emotion shook the frame of Herman Brudenell. He had not entered the room with any intention of making a disclosure to Ishmael; but ho felt now that—come life, come death, come whatever might of it—he must claim Nora’s eon. • Ishmael,’ lie began, in a voice shaken with agitation, 4 1 knew your mother.’ s 4 You, sir 1’ exclaimed the young man in surprise. 4 Yes, I know her and her sister, naturally, for they were tenants of mine.’ 4 1 know that they lived on the outskirts of the Brudenell estate ; butl did not know you were personally acquainted with them, sir ; for I thought that you resided mostly in Europe.’ . _ . „ ‘Not air the time; I %vas Brudenell Hall when-you were bornand your mother went to Heaven, Ishmael.’ Some of the elder man’s agitation communicated itself to the younger, who half arose from his seat and looked intently at the speaket. ‘I knew your : another in those days, Ishmael. She was not only one of the most beautiful woman of her day, but one of the purest, noblest and best.’ 1 . _ Herman Bruderell; Aud Ishmael, who had dropped again into his seat,- bent eagerly‘'forward, holding his breath while he listened. Herman continued. . 1 ‘.You resemble her in person and incharacter,' Ishmael ! All that is best and noblest and mostattraCtivein you, Ishmael, is derived under ’Divine ‘Providence from your mother/ ■ '•••• - ■ • " _ ’

* I know it! Oh, I know it!’ : ‘ And, Ishmael, I loved your mother 1’ 4 Oh, Heaven !’ breathed the young man, in sickening, deadly apprehension ; for well he remembered that this Mr Herman Brudenell was the husband of the of Hurstmonceux at the very time of which he now spoke. 4 Ishmael ! Ishmael !. do not look so cruelly distressed. I loved her, she loved me in return, she crowned my days with joy, and-—-’ A gasping sound of suddenly-suspended breath from Ishmael.

4 1 made her my wife/ continued Herman Brudenell, in a grave a'ud earnest voice. 4 It was you then !’ cried Ishmael, speak ing with agitation 1

‘lt was I!’ Silence like a pall fell between them. ‘ Oh, Ishmael! my son ! my son '. speak tome! give me your hand !’ groaned Herman Brudenell. J 4 She was your wife ! Yet she- died of want, exposure and grief !’ said Nora’s son, standing pale and stony before him. 4 And with a breaking heart! a harder fate, Ishmael. Since her death, I have been a wifeless, childless wanderer over the wide world'!- Oh, Ishmael ! my son ! my eon !-give me your hand 1’ ‘lam my mother’s son ! She ivas your wife, you. say ; • yet she never boro your name. She was your wife ; yet her son and yours bears her maiden name Sho was your wife ! yet she perished miserably in her early youth, and undeserved reproach is suflered to rost upon her memory ! Oh, 'sir ! if indeed you were her husband and my father, as you claim to be, explain these things before I give you my 'hand ! for when I give my hand, honour and respect mu3t go with it !’■ said Ishmael, in a grave, sweet, earnest tone. *ls it possible that Hannah has never told you ? T thought she' would have told you everything, except the name of your father.’ ■ - ‘ Sho told me everything that she could tell without violating the oath of secrecy by which sho was bound ; but wliat she told me was not satisfactory.’ . ‘Sit down then, Ishmael, sit down; and though to recall this woful- history will be to" tear open old wounds afresh, I will do so ; and when you have heard it, you will know how blameless we both—your mother and myself—really were, and how deep has been the tragedy of riiy life as well as hers—the difference between us being that hers is a dead trouble, from which she rests, eternally, while mine is a living and a life-long sorrow !’ Ishmael droppod again into his chair arid gave undivided attention to the speaker. And Mr Brudenell, after a short pause, commenced, and gave a narrative of his own eventful life, beginning with his college days, and detailing all the incidents of his youthful career until it culminated in the dreadful household wreck that had killled Nora, exiled his family and blasted his own happiness for ever. Ishmael listened with the deepest sympathy- . "• •' Itwas indeed, the tearing open of old wounds in Herman Brudenell’s breast; and it was the inflicting of new ones in lshmael’s heart. It \vas an hour of unspeakable distress to both. Herman did not spare himself in the relation; yet in the end Ishmael exculpated his father from all blame. We know indeed that in his relations with Kora he was blameless, unless his fatal haste could be called a fault. And ns for bis long neglect of Ishmael, which really was a great sin, and tho greatest he had ever committed, Ish,mael never gave a thought to that; it was only a sin against himself, and Ishmael was not selfish enough to feel or resent it.

Herman Brudenell ended his story very much as he had commenced it :

4 And since that day of doom, Ishmael, I have been a loriely, homeless, miserable wanderer over tho wide ivorld! The fabled Wandering Jew not more wretched than 11’ And the bowed head, blanched complexion and quivering foatures bore testimony to his words. {To be Continued.)