The Heart's Highway: A Romance of Virginia in the Seventeenth CenturyFreeman, Mary Eleanor Wilkins
History
The Heart's Highway: A Romance of Virginia in the Seventeenth Century
Freeman, Mary Eleanor Wilkins
Virginia -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Fiction
All this Catherine Cavendish told me in a manner which seemed
strangely foreign to her, being gentle, and yet not so gentle as
subdued, and her fair face was paler than ever, and when I looked at
her and said not a word, and yet had a question in my eyes which she
was at no loss to interpret, tears welled into her own, and she bent
lower and whispered lest even the stranger at the window should
hear, that Mary "sent her dear love, but, but--"
I raised myself with such energy at that that she was startled, and
the gentleman at the window half turned.
"What have they done with her?" I cried. "If they dare--"
"Hush," said Catherine. "Our grandmother hath but locked her in her
chamber, since she hath discovered her love for thee, and frowns
upon it, not since thou art a convict, but since thou hast turned
against the King. She says that no granddaughter of hers shall wed a
rebel, be he convict or prince. But she is safe, Harry, and there
will no harm come to her, and indeed I think that if they in
authority have heard aught of what she hath done, they are minded to
keep it quiet, and--and--"
Then to my exceeding bewilderment down on her knees beside me went
that proud maid and begged my pardon for her scorn of me, saying
that she knew me guiltless, and knew for what reason I had taken
such obloquy upon myself.
Then the gentleman at the window turned when she appealed to him,
and came near, and I saw who he was--my half-brother, John
Chelmsford.
XX
It was six years and more since I had seen my half-brother, and I
should scarcely have known him, for time had worked great changes in
both his face and form. He was much stouter than I remembered him,
and wore a ruddy point of beard at his chin, and a great wig,
whereas I recalled him as smooth of face, with his own hair.
But he was a handsome man, as I saw even then, lying in so much pain
and weakness, and he came and stood over me, and looked at me more
kindly than I should have expected, and I could see something of our
common mother in his blue eyes. He reached down his hand and shook
the one of mine which I could muster strength to raise, and called
me brother, and hoped that I found myself better, and gave me very
many tender messages of our mother, and of his father likewise,
which puzzled me exceedingly, until matters were explained. Colonel
Chelmsford had parted with me when I left England with but scant
courtesy, and as for my poor mother, I had not seen her at all, she
being confined to her chamber with grief over my disgrace, and not
one word had I received from them since that time. So when John
Chelmsford said that our mother sent her dear love to her son Harry,
and that nothing save her delicate health had prevented her from
sailing to Virginia in the same ship to see the son from whom she
had been so long parted, I gasped, and felt my head reel, and I
called up my mother's face, and verily I felt the tears start in my
eyes, but I was very weak.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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