The Coward: A Novel of Society and the Field in 1863Morford, Henry
History
The Coward: A Novel of Society and the Field in 1863
Morford, Henry
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
The dullest eyes will recognize at last what only the quick and accustomed
discern at first. Eleanor Hill had been blind, but her eyes gradually
opened,--with an agony in the first gleams of light, of which her yielding,
compliant nature had before given little promise. Nearly two years had
elapsed after her becoming the ward of Dr. Philip Pomeroy, and more than
one year after that fatal era in her own destiny, when the wronged girl,
then twenty and within only twelve months of her legal majority, at last
sounded the depths of that man's nature sufficiently to know that he had
been inventing the existence of obstacles--that he had never intended to
marry her, at least at any near period. At that moment of discovery a
higher and prouder nature than hers might have been moved to personal
upbraiding, despair and perhaps to suicide: with Eleanor Hill the only
result was that a sense of shame, before kept in abeyance, came in and
settled down upon her, making her more humble than angry or indignant, and
unnerving her instead of bracing her mind anew for any conflict that might
arise in the future. Aware, at last, of his deception, she could not quite
believe in her guardian's utter baseness; and she still _hoped_ that though
he might demand his own time for the fulfilment of that promise which had
won her from herself, in his own time he would render her that justice in
reality so poor but to her so full of compensation for all the past.
Would it not seem, even to one most fully acquainted with all the falsehood
of the betrayer and all the cruelty of the torturer, that the cup of that
man's infamy was nearly filled? And yet--sorrow that the bitter truth must
be recorded!--not a tithe of that which was to curse him before the end,
has yet been indicated. Slowly and surely the blackening crimes pile up,
when the love of virtue and the fear of heaven have both faded out from the
human heart; and who can measure the height to which those mountain masses
of guilt may tower, after the first foundations have been laid in one
unrepented wrong, and before the coming of that day when the criminal must
call upon those very mountains to fall and bury him away from the wrath
that is inevitable!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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