SCENE 4.

Waikato Times, Volume XIX, Issue 1634, 23 December 1882, Page 2 (Supplement)

SCENE 4.

A gentleman, tall, robust, with bronzed face and brown beard, enters the picture gallery attached to the Melbourne Public Library. He presents a distinguished appearance, the more so, perhaps, that the empty sleeve which is pinned against his left breast, added to a certain military sternness of visage and peculiarity of gait, suggests that he has been one of those who have sought the bubble reputation, c'en at the cannon's mouth. As in truth he had ; for it is Matthew Osgood. I left him surprised and overjoyed by the glad news which Folingsby had brought to him. The reaction which followed, may be imagined. Matthew Osgood was one of those sensitive souls who resemble a barometer, in their susceptibility to the fair and foul weather of this world's buffets or rewards. Concluding, that all hope of winning his love was lost to him, he had, in some sort, hugged the fact as a kind of wrong, which, in the unreasonable manner of young gentlemen suffering froxi such morbid impressions, he laid to the charge of society in general. In this humor he had returned to America ; in this humor he had thrown himself eagerly enough into the gigantic struggle in which his country was then engaged. In his then state of mind, the fierce passions aroused by battle, were welcomed to him as a relief from his morbid, brooding thoughts. He found fresh energy and genial distraction in the turmoil and struggle of war. But as this reaction had taken place when he lay under a delusion, so its removal by a revelation of the truth, inspired another reaction, which, in its influence, at one stroke, released the young man's better nature from the morose shackles which had bound it down, and warped its wholesome exercise. He loved Helen Vigors with the fnll strength and intensity of an ardent nature. He had, from the beginning and inception of his passion, cherished the brightest hopes and aspirations. With the confidence of his energetic character, he had not allowed himself to doubt his success as a wooer. And so, when rebuffed, his disappointment had been proportionately severe, and its effect proportionately disastrous. His sudden release then, from what he considered a position of despair — for, of course, like all thwarted lovers, he had held life | as worthless — inspired a corresponding resuscitation. An hour before, and death in the battle field had seemed a welcome fate. But now, life assumed a value, in that a bright promise of future 'happiness had- been revealed to him. A happier man than Matthew Osgood, as he threw himself, face down, in the tall grass near the farm house in which Folingsby lay ■ wounded, did not then live in all wide ' America. In brief , he took such measures* as enabled him to communicate with Mrs. Folingsby, and so to relieve her mind "as to the fate of her husband. And this done, he was also enabled to procure the exchange of the bridegroom, ere the war came to a close. The wouuds received by Folingsby were such, that he would not have been enabled to take any further part in the contest, even though he had been bound to inaction by the terms of his exchange. And so Matthew Osgood met him no more for that time. For j himself, he continued to take part in the fratricidal quarrel, until he was sorely wounded in the great fights which, preceded the closing scene. He distinguished himself at, the bat-

rapid intabch*an|se"df_deadly fire,.. •^AldiHgiuid^ whole line there was a rush — th^specfiadle ;of , impregnable works — a bloody loss— a 'sullen falling -back — and the action was decided." In this fight, Matthew Osgood's uncle was hurt, ; and his faithful henchman carried him from beneath the deadly fire of the confederates, into a position of safety. Matthew and the. negro were two of the few men who responded to the order of General Meade, who sent instructions to each corps-commander to renew the attack, without reference to troops in support to the right or left. The order was issued to subordinate commanders, and thence to the men. But few men moved. It was seen, it was known, that the confederate position was impregnable, and that an advance meant simply suicide. As it was, the loss on the Union side in this sanguinary and useless attack, exceeded 13,000 men. On the part of the confederates, it is doubtful whether the slain and surrendered numbered 1000. In sjich stirring scenes, and sharer in such disasters, and after triumphs, our friends took part. For his gallantry at Cold Harbour, and his prompt response to General Meade's illa'dvised order, Matthew Osgoocl received a comnv'ssion in the field. Henceforth he was IKeutenant Osgood. You may guess the delight of the skipper, and the mingled awe and exultation of Hannibal. When Richmond fell ; when the great Lee, , with tears running down his cheeks, exclaimed,' " Men, we have fought through the war together ; I have done my best for you," Matthew Osgood lay in hospital, minus an arm. But he had the happiness of learning that Folingsby and his wife were well, and that they had sought retirement on the lady's estate — now sorely desolated — in Virginia. Months afterwards, and when recovered from his wound, he eagerly availed himself of an offer which was made to him to take command of a barque sailing out of Boston. The skipper had decided upon retirement, and had bought a cosy cottage overlooking Massachusetts Bay. Here, attended by his faithful- - servant Hannibal, he, as he expressed himself, determined to moor his craft as long as her timbers held together." But it was unreasonable to suppose that his nephew, albeit battered and stricken, should be content with an uneventful life of ease. And so the skipper's interest, and the young man's reputation as a gallant soldier, not to speak of a greater influence in respect of certain dollars which Captain Osgood provided, procured him not only a command, but an interest in the vessel to which he was appointed. And the second voyage he made brought him to China, thence to Melbourne. It was characteristic of the man's modesty and self-depreciation, that although he had ascertained beyond doubt that Helen Vigors had not married Folingsby, he did not dare to hope that he should find her free. And even if she s&ouW fee free, he thought, was it likely that she, elegant, refined, rich, and a lady, could look upon his advances otherwise than with surprise and scorn. He remembered, with a burning blush, his audacity when parting with her on board the Hesperus, when he told her, prompted by his passion and grief, that he loved her. And yet, as we have seen, his joy, when he learned that she had not married Folingsby, was extreme. For, despite his humbfe value of his own merits, a faint thought had come to him that the person to whom Folingsby had referred as having won Miss Vigor's regard, might be ijih^mself. .^Y Arrived in Melbourne, a more confident fpver would, at once, have sought his mistress, jot so Matthew Osgood. He shank from "tiat which his soul longed for. His ingenu- , 6as mind was superior to any subtle craft by v hich his yearnings might have been gratified. He could invent no excuse to visit the Vigors family ; and, indeed, he was not even certain ,tliat they still resided in Victoria. His mind was tossed by a tempest of hopes and fears, scruples, and resolves. And, in this humor, he had wandered, one summer afternoon, two djays after his arrival from China, into the Bicture Gallery. I There is a picture there called Esther — the .cfentral figure of which is that of a woman of that rich, warm beauty which belongs to -eastern climes. Before this Captain Osgood pjaused, and looked at it longingly and eagerly. Kor surely this was Helen Vigors's face and form. And, indeed, it is so like that she might have sat as model to the artist. , Absorbed, and indeed entranced, the captain stood for many long minutes, before this picture. And it is just possible that he would nave stood there for as many hours, had he I not been startled from his abstraction by the sound of a voice he well recollected. [ " Well, my dear," said the owner of the voice, " 'tis all a mather of taste. But I till ye what now. This same picture ye call the bjrigands seems to me nothin' more nor less than the picture ay the Marquis ay Lome and b!is Irish tenantry. 'Tis meself knows the Connaught cut of visage, with its long upper ljp, and its small acre of brow, and its little eyes, and its cunnin' look. Don't tell me, my love, that's " > " Pray, doctor, have pity on me," cried the l&dy in a languishing tone. " Lead me to my favorite," and she turned towards the picture before which Matthew Osgood stood. At a glance, the latter recognised in the gentleman, Dr. Hogan ; in the lady, Mrs. Vigors. He stepped forward impulsively. " Doctor !" he cried, extending his one hand. " Why, I do declare," cried the lady, raising ajn eyeglass, and gazing at Matthew fixedly, "iiE it isn't young Osgood." , " By the seventeen saints that held high jinks when Calim died," exclaimed the little doctor, seizing his hand, " 'Tis meself 'd sboner see ye than a dozen patients. How's every bit of ye, man ? Whirra ! and so ye've left an arm behind ye. Well now, them Yankee surgeons is not much account. And here ye are. But I'm glad. Didn't Folingsby vfrite all about ye, and praise ye to the skies. Well, well," and again he wrung Mat's hand. j The young man turned to the lady. | •• I trust your daughter is well, Mrs. Vigors,' B*id' he, nervously. The lady laughed and blushed. "Mrs. Hogan, if it's all the same t' ye, master Mat," said the little doctor, with dig- , nity. "Ye didn't hear of the auspicious event. How should ye? Yes Sir, this lady's my wife, and it's proud I am to say it," Mrs. Hogan looked pleased ; as, indeed, she always did when a compliment was paid her. Amd the doctor — cunning scamp — knew it -yell. | " Yes Mr. Osgood," said she, " this dreadful ~maii -persuaded me to take pity on him. My j dpighter ! She is not very well, poor girl." i " She is married, I presume ? asked Mat, - striving to control his voice to conventional ■■cadence. "That's just it," broke in the doctor. " I never saw such a crayture. Sure there's a hundred at her feet — sighing and prayin' — squatters with millions, and bankers, and merchants. Och ! it's provokin' so it is, to see the chances she throws away. But come along. We have ye now, and we'll keep ye. We'll take him home to luncheon, Mrs. Hogan, and more betoken to dinner. D'ye remember the Christmas dinner aboord the Hesperus. May I never, but I sometimes think I've dreamt it. And the black cook ?" "He is well, and with my uncle. They both fought in the war. An' the big dog also." " Well, well," ejaculated the doctor ; "jump in Mat," he added, as he handed his wife into a handsome carriage which awaited them at the library gates. " Well, well, sure ye must tell us all about it, hye-and-bye. 'Tis Helen will be glad to see ye, I'm thinkin'." And rattling on thus, the doctor monopolised the talking until they arrived at his residence, which was situated on the hill beyond Toorak. Matthew Osgood could not forbear from an expression of admiration, as, entering through two huge iron gates, the carriage was driven up a long avenue of noble trees. " " Welcome to the Pines, Mat," cried the / doctor, as he jumped out with extraordinary "-.'.. activity, and helped his wife to alight. " A snug roost my boy, and here's Helen her- -'-'• selL " , , t Matthew Osgood paused. Every sign of *)?>%

'' hoYs^eak, but only smile wistfully, as^Sj^^ forth his one hand, ana advanced to hjwPljll love. No longer a girl, she was ' now|ffi|4's4 ? full bloom of womanhood, splendid Tina^jfefafi' rious. To the modest mind of the poo^uap^ tain, the quick thought came, that it was- in-, deed presumption to love this marvelloas beauty. And she — ah! had he but ventiped, to interpret her sweet looks, her tender eye», he might well have grown bold and confident. For delight and love surely shone there eloquently. Captain Osgood is seated in a cane chair in j the little farm yard attached to his pretty cottage, built on the slope of one of the islands in Massachusetts Bay. Enter to him Hannibal, in a great state of excitement. " Cap'en ! Cap'en ! Come lang quick. Guess de worl' is comin' to an end — Yah! yah! came 'lang, sah — Yah ! yah ! Golly, dis am de blessed day. Whew ! twang de banjo, beat de drum. Come 'lang, sah" — and seizing the captain's coat, he dragged him from his seat. " Wall <lo tell," ejaculated the old gentleman, in Ms leisurely fashion — "Is the oritter mad or <hank?" " Come 'iang, sah. Wisitors, sah f Massa Mat, sah 1 Brtmg urn wife, sah. Yah 1 Yah !" With a more rapid step than lie usually affected, the captain made for the house. He threw open the door of the little parlor. There was Mat ; there was Mat's sweet wife, erst Helen Vigors. There too, was Mrs, Hogan and the doctor; and slipping through the door, the pretty wench, Carlotta, made her way to the servant's quarter. What a surprise! What questions! What answers! Joy and thankfulness surely rested upon all in that house that day and night. "She told me," said Mat, "when sitting alone with his uncle watching the lights of the city, and the thousand rejections in the waters of the bay, that she had always loved me. And she told Folingsby the Btory • too. Uncle, he is a fine fellow." "Yes," returned the skipper, musingly, " Them Southern chaps air clean gentlemen, that's a fact." " We are going to visit him," continued Mat, " before we return." "Eeturn !" echoed Captain Osgood. " Why i boy, whar air ye goin' to flit neow?" "We intend to go back to Melbourne," was the answer. Mrs. Hogan has property there. You know her, and how she lives in what she callb fashionable society. Well, she is somebody in Melbourne, and therefore there : is no place like Melbourne." " Humph !" said the skipper, " But what's that to do with your movements ?" " It was a condition of her assent to our j marriage, that Helen should live near her mother. " Selfish to the end," muttered the Captain. | " Wall, boy ; this is awkward— deuced awk- I ward. I kinder hoped to lie at anchor here, | until I slipped my cable for the long r'yge. But now " " You'll come back with us," urged Mat, taking his uncle's hand, " and so complete our I happiness." i " Wall, I'll consider," was the response. ' And now we'll jine the ladies." j In the kitchen, another scene was being enacted — to wit, tho courtship, ardent and eloquent, of Carlotta, by no less a lover than Hannibal. " De han' oh Providence am in it, missey," said Hannibal, pressing both hands over the i region of his heart, " end ye can't go for to j lly in de face ob Destiny. Taint proper- J some." " But sah," exclaimed Carlotta, coyly playing with the strings of her apron. " Suppose sah, that I not lub you." " Oh, dar now ; don't say dat. Dat am out ob de question. De filosopher says dat lub breeds lub, and, by golly ! I'm all lub." " You'se got a very cunning tongue, Massa Hannibal." 11 It's all lub, Carlotta. Lub, as gives me eloquence. Come den. Say dat you will be mine." 11 Subjec' to de consent ob de fam'ly, sah, dar's my hand." " End your heart !" ejaculated the excited negro. " Dat sah," returned the maid with modest dignity, " hab long been yours— ugh !" This last exclamation was called forth by the sudden and vigorous squeeze with which the enraptured negro received this avowal. And then these sooty lovers had their pleasant time of talk and tenderness. A strange principle, this love, that it should refine and purify the common clay as readily as the j moic costly. II was with the air of a gentle- ; man that Hannibal, when he carried up his \ master's shaving water the morning following : his wooing, announced his newly-found happiness. The sUipper rubbed his head. ' " Tarnation," he muttered, " the woild moves, that's a fact, and I guess I must go on with it. Hannibal, pack up my traps. I'm agoin' to sell eout and settle in Melbourne, end turn Britisher." J