Agadez

“ In a dozen years he had not seen snow, and he was always wondering if New England fruits and berries had not a finer tang than those of California. Through hazy vistas he saw the old New England life, and he wanted to see it again in the flesh before he died.
And, finally, there was duty. Agatha was his wife. He would bring her back with him to the West. He felt that he could stand it. He was a man, now, in the world of men. He ran things, instead of being run, and Agatha would quickly find it out. Nevertheless, he wanted Agatha to come to him for his own sake. ”

“ It was a crabbed, ancient hand, blotted and blurred, then steadied resolutely into the preciseness of a school-boy—one of those pathetic fragments of writing that irresistibly remind one of the trembling failing hand—the hand that once wrote brave love-letters.
“You are highly favoured; my father rarely writes to any one. What does he say?” cried Harrie, rather jealous.
Agatha read aloud:
“My dear Daughter-in-law, “Will you honour me by dining here to-day, without fail? “I remain, always your affectionate Father, “Nathanael Harper.” ”

“ The smile, flitting to Agatha, took a cheerfulness which hitherto in the sad subject of her talk Miss Valery had not displayed. A certain benevolent meaning, which Agatha rather guessed at than discerned, was likewise visible there.
“Come,” said she, “for this night we can do nothing; but having settled what we shall do, or rather what Mr. Harper will do, let us make ourselves at rest. Be content, my dear Nathanael. Heaven will take care of him for whom we fear.” ”

“ They did not squabble—Nathanael Harper never squabbled—but they always met with a gentle hissing, like water sprinkled on coals. Agatha, who was quite new to these harmless fraternalities, always occurring in large families, was mightily amused thereat.
The first house the little party looked over was, as Emma Thornycroft would have phrased it, “a love of a place!” Dining-room, drawing-rooms, conservatory, gardens—quite a gentleman's mansion. Agatha set her heart upon it at once, and it blotted out even her lingering regret over the lost home in the Regent's Park. ”

“ I asked Agathemer.
"Felix," he replied, "there has never been but one man on earth who could manage horses like that. I've seen him do it. I've been smuggled in to watch him, like many another servant supposed to be waiting for his master outside. I recognize the inimitable witchery of him."
"No need to name him," I said. "But if you are right, who is wearing his robes and occupying his usual seat to-day?"
"Don't ask me!" Agathemer replied. "But you yourself, Felix, who have seen him drive so much oftener than I have must agree with me about Palus." ”

“ Agatha answered simply, and said,
' Renounce thou thy gods which are of stone and wood,
and pray to thy Creator who truly liveth;
if thou despisest Him, thou shalt suffer in eternal torments.'
Then the impious man became incensed, and bade stretch her on the rack,
and cruelly twist her like a withy-rope, and said,
' Forsake thy self-will, that thy life may be saved.'
Agatha answered on the rack thus,
'So greatly I rejoice in these painful torments
even as he that seeth him whom he hath desired,
or as he that findeth many hoards of gold. ”

“ Yes, Agatha, if fortune be but kind, death, cold death, shall soon relieve us both; shall leave you free to bestow upon a colder suitor the prize you have refused to my hot, impatient love; but if,” (and here he glanced very wildly round him) , “my prayers are not heard, if after Saumur’s field, life be still left within my body’s sanctuary, I will return to seize you as my own, though hosts in armour try to stop my way. I will not live without you. I will not endure to see another man aspire to the hand which has been refused to me. Adieu, Agatha, adieu! I trust we shall meet no more ”

“ With that she rang for her maid and bade her prepare a cold plunge bath. When she descended to dinner, an hour later, Agatha no longer chattered frivolously, as she had done in the carriage, by way of concealing her emotions, but bore herself seriously, as became her in view of the prospect of battle on the morrow.
In that hour of agonising thought, Agatha Ronald had ceased to be a girl, and had become an earnest, resolute woman, strong to do, strong to endure, and, if need be, strong to dare. Life had taken on a new meaning in her eyes. ”

“ If we don't hear in three days—three days at this time of year”—he stopped with a perceptible shudder—“then, Agatha,” and Duke's gentle voice grew gentler, and solemn like a psalm, “then, my child, we'll go home.”
Agatha bowed her head. Bodily exhaustion calmed her mind, and soothed her into a feeling which made even the last dread alternative less fearful. She felt a conviction that such “going home” would only be a prelude to the last going home of all, when she should never part from her husband more. ”

“ Agatha, sensitive, enthusiastic, and easily impressed, grew silent, and wondered that her companions could laugh so carelessly, even when passing under the grey portal into the very precincts of the deserted castle.
“We shall not find a soul here,” said Harrie; “scarcely anybody ever comes at this season, except when our Kingcombe Oddfellows' Club have a picnic on this bowling-green; or schoolboys get together and climb up the ivy to frighten the jackdaws—my husband has done it many a time—haven't you, Duke?” ”

“ Thornycroft,” returned Agatha, rather sharply; then, melting into a smile, she added: “Well, 'of course,' as you say; what more likely visitor could I have than my guardian?”
“Trustee, my dear; guardians belong to romances, where young ladies are always expected to hate, or fall in love with them.”
Agatha flushed slightly. Now, unlike most girls, Miss Bowen did not look pretty when she blushed; her skin being very dark, and not over clear, the red blood coursing under it dyed her cheek, not “celestial, rosy red,” but a warm mahogany colour. ”

“ Agatha took no notice, nor did Nathanael. Silently they walked to church, the garden way, which led them out opposite the eastern door. Entering with his wife on his arm, his bare head erect, though the eyes were lowered, his whole face still and steadfast, but looking much older since his marriage.—Mr. Harper was a man of whom no one need be ashamed. His wife glanced at him, and, in spite of all her sorrow, walked proudly up the aisle—prouder far than on her wedding-day. She never thought of herself or of the people looking at her. ”

“ It is wicked ever to despair. There is a chance—more than a chance, that your husband has been saved. He has infinite presence of mind, and he is a young, strong, likely lad. But Brian—poor Brian! my dear old friend!”
Duke Dugdale's bravery gave way—he was of such a gentle, tender heart. The sight of his emotion stilled Agatha's frenzy, and made it more like a natural grief, though it was hard yet—hard as stone. ”

“ Major Frederick Harper actually started, and the deep sensitive colour, which not even his forty years and his long worldly experience could quite keep down, rose in his handsome face.
“So N. L. spoke to you of her. No wonder. She is an—an excellent person.”
“An excellent person,” repeated Agatha mischievously. “Then she is rather elderly, I conclude?”
“Elderly—Anne Valery elderly! By Heavens, no!” (And the excited Major used the solitary asseveration which clung to him, the last trace of his brief military experience.) “Anne Valery old! Not a day older than myself! ”

“ Agatha had never before heard Miss Valery say “Brian.” She was evidently speaking as people do when much moved, using a form of phrase and alluding to things not commonly referred to.
The old Squire sat silent a minute, and then stretched out his hand. “I know your goodness, Anne! But I cannot renounce all my rights. Even a younger son must not throw discredit on his family. Except in one brief instance, for centuries there has never been a Harper who worked for his living.” ”

“ An innocent line of railway darted past Kingcombe, in the vain hope of waking that somnolent town. It was a pleasant whirl across the usual breezy flats of moorland, by some meadows where a network of serpentine streams flashed in the sun. Agatha felt more like her own self; with her, the spirit of Nature was always an exorciser of internal demons; and Anne's conversation aided the beneficent work.
At Dorchester they took a carriage, and drove across the country to Weymouth.
“Are you not getting weary? you looked so but lately,” said Agatha to Miss Valery. ”

“ How you would like our home—I call it home, forgetting that I have been only a visitor, and in a short time must go back to my real home, Montreal.”
“Must you indeed!” And Agatha felt sorry. She had been at once surprised and gratified by the confidential way in which this usually reserved young man talked to her, and her alone. “Why do you live in America? I hate Americans.”
“Do you?” said he, smiling, as if he read her thoughts. “But I have neither Yankee blood nor education. I was English born; brought up in British Canada, and by Uncle Brian.” ”

“ She hung her head, child-like, and made no answer.
“Why is it,” said Mr. Harper, putting his arm round her—“why is it that we are always having these 'little things' rising up to trouble us? Why cannot we bear with one another, and take the chance-happiness that falls to our lot? It is not much, I fear”—
She looked uneasy.
“Nay, perhaps that is chiefly my fault. I often wish Heaven had given you a better husband, Agatha.”
And his countenance was so softened, mournful, and tender, that Agatha's affection returned. ”

“ The principal methods of seduction—rich presents—had not been spared, but Agatha persistently refused them all, and forbade her duenna to take anything from the young nobleman. Agatha had no liking for him, and kept me well informed of all his actions, and we used to laugh at him together. I knew that I possessed her heart, and consequently Lord Percy's attempts neither made me angry or jealous—nay, they flattered my self-esteem, for his slighted love made my own happiness stand out in greater relief. ”

“ No one made any comment except Agatha, who observed “that Uncle Brian must be rather bitter and sarcastic at heart.”
“No—not bitter,” Anne Valery said,—“only sorrowful. It is often so, when after a hard life men feel themselves growing old. What shall you do, Nathanael?”
“About what? His going to California? Nay, I cannot prevent that. What use in my writing when he gives me such lectures about my marriage?”
“He would not if he knew Agatha. Besides, in this doctrine he is a little wrong. It is of small moment on which side lies the wealth;—love makes all things even.” ”

“ Agatha secretly wondered what could possibly be the reason that Major Harper had never even mentioned this personage, whom Nathanael seemed to hold in such honour.
“Of course,” he continued, “though I dearly like England, though”—and he sunk his voice a little—“though now it will be doubly hard to go away, I could never think of leaving Uncle Brian to spend his old age alone in the country of his adoption.”
“No, no,” returned Agatha, absently, her thoughts still running on this new Mr. Harper. “What profession is he?”
“Nothing now. He has led an unsettled life—always poor. ”

“ Agatha said little in explanation until she had conducted her guest into an adjoining chamber, and pointed out one object for his observation. Stretched upon a couch, grown to boyhood, covered with wounds, and unchanged in person, save that his deformities had now grown more manifest, lay extended the ghastly boy, the only child of Agatha and the helpless Eustace. Courtenay trembled as he gazed; but the mother’s looks were calm. “He is dead,” she said, on observing the emotion of her guest; “what Heaven and Nature with so much difficulty spared, the brutality of man has destroyed ”

“ At this moment, some one burst open the street door, and rushed into the chamber;--it was Francis Friend.
"I have had a glorious row with the vagabond nobles," he cried, embracing the maiden roughly, "and the mad Netz has flayed my arm, but I think I have paid him for it, in a way that will make him remember me. Bind up the wound, Agatha."
"Wicked man," replied Agatha chidingly, as she stripped off the sleeve through which the blood was welling; "you are always running wantonly into danger, and care not for the anxiety which I suffer on your account." ”

“ She presents a marked contrast to her gay and light-hearted cousin, who tries to brighten Agathe with fun and frolic. They adorn themselves with roses, which Agathe received from a holy hermit, who blessed her, but warned her of impending evil. So Agathe is full of dread forebodings, and after Aennchen's departure she fervently prays to Heaven for her beloved. When she sees him come to her through the forest with flowers on his hat, her fears vanish, and she greets him joyously. But Max only answers hurriedly, that having killed a stag in the Wolf's-glen, he is obliged to return there. ”

“ No one rejoiced more than did Agatha, that the heavenly messengers had led Mary back.
Their teacher said that her school was a little garden of flowers, which she was rearing for heaven. But Agatha was the most innocent flower there, and ready to bloom in the garden of paradise. The kind heavenly guides thought her too pure for earth, and they would fain have her companionship in their purer regions. So they bore her away on wings of love to their heavenly home.
May every Sabbath school scholar be, like Agatha, led by celestial spirits. ”