Lenore did not try to conceal her pleasure, at seeing her mother and myself conversing once more as friends.
“You must not leave us again, Rowland,” said she, “for we have not many friends, and can ill-afford to lose one. See how near we have been to losing you – all through your being absent.”
“Yes, Rowland,” said Mrs Hyland. “My house was once your home; and you are welcome to make it so again. I shall only be fulfilling the wishes of my husband, by renewing the intimate friendship that once existed between us.”
Her invitation to make her house once more my home, I reluctantly declined. Lenore seemed no longer my sister; and with some sorrow the conviction forced itself on my mind – that my fate was to love – to love, yet wander far from the one I loved.
Lenore was now a young lady. I thought myself a man. As children, we could no longer live together – no longer dwell under the same roof. Lenore was too beautiful; and I was too much afflicted with poverty. Any further acquaintance between us might not contribute to my future happiness but the contrary.
I left the house with mingled feelings of pleasure and despair, pleased to find myself once more restored to the good opinion of Mrs Hyland – despairing of being able to resist the fascinations of her daughter’s beauty.
Every time I gazed upon her fair face, could only add to my misery. I was young; and as I had been told, good-looking. Lenore and I had been old friends and playmates. It was possible for me to win her love; but would it be honourable?
Would it be a proper return for the kindness of Captain Hyland and his widow, for me, a penniless “rolling stone,” to try to win the affections of their only child, and subject her to the misery of my own unfortunate lot? No! I could love Lenore; but I could not act in such an unworthy manner.
Then followed the reflection, that Mrs Hyland had some property. Her home would be mine. She needed a son-in-law to look after the ship; and I was a seaman.
These thoughts only stirred within me a feeling of pride, that would not allow me to receive any advantage of fortune from one I could choose for a wife. I knew that with all the exertions a man may make – and however correct his habits may be – he cannot live happily with a wife who brings into the firm of husband and wife more money than himself.
Another unpleasant consideration came before me. Why should I be seeking for reasons against marrying Lenore, when perhaps she might not consent to marry me? Because we were old friends, was no reason why she should ever think of me as a husband. By trying to make her love me, I might, as she had said of Mr Adkins, cause her only to hate me.
The day after my visit to Mrs Hyland and Lenore, I went to see Mason, the steward, in order that I might thank him for the good word he had spoken for me – as well as for much kindness he had shown towards me, when we were shipmates in the ‘Lenore.’ He received me in a cordial manner, that caused me to think better of mankind, than I had lately done. In a long conversation I held with him, he told me of many acts of dishonesty, in the committal of which he had detected Adkins, who, he said, had been robbing Mrs Hyland in every way he could.
“Captain Hyland took much trouble in giving you some education,” said he; “why don’t you marry the daughter, and take command of the ship?”
“I am a poor penniless adventurer,” I replied, “and dare not aspire to so much happiness as would be mine, were I to become the husband, as well as captain, of ‘Lenore.’ I am neither so vain nor ambitious.”
“That’s a fact,” said Mason. “You have not enough of either. No man ever did any thing for himself, or any one else, without thinking something of himself, and making such a trial as you decline to undertake. He is a lucky man who wins without trying.”
There was truth in what the steward said; but the Hylands had been my friends, and were so again; and I could not bring myself to abuse the confidence they had placed in me. I could not speak of love to Lenore, and so I told the steward.
In this interview with Mason, I learnt from him that Adkins had disappeared, and could no more be found!
“His flight,” said Mason, “will be positive proof to Mrs Hyland that he was unworthy of the confidence she had placed in him. She cannot be too thankful, that your return has been the means of her discovering his true character. I would have exposed him long ago, but I did not think that I could succeed; and that I would only be doing myself an injury – in short, ruining my poor family, without the consolation of knowing that I had also ruined a scoundrel. Thank the Lord for all his mercies! The villain has been uncloaked at last.”
With this pious thanksgiving ended the interview, between the honest steward and myself.
Volume One – Chapter Fifteen.
Love and Poverty
From that time I called every day to see Lenore and her mother; and each time came away more hopelessly infatuated.
My money was gradually growing easier to count – until I found that I had but a few shillings left, and necessity must soon force me to seek employment. Of course I contemplated going to sea, and making my living on board some ship; but I found it impossible to come to a determination.
How was I to leave Liverpool, where I could gaze each day on the beauty that adorned Lenore?
I could not take my departure until circumstances should compel me. In order to protract my stay as long as possible, I lived on but one meal per diem; and as I had also to keep a little money for my lodgings, I made that meal upon a penny roll.
Mrs Hyland had determined on giving up the ship – a resolution no doubt due to the mismanagement, or rather dishonesty, of him who had lately commanded her. I assisted her in finding a purchaser; and she was very fortunate in disposing of the vessel at a good price.
She had plenty of money, and was willing to aid me. But pride prevented me from accepting of anything but her friendship; and ofttimes did I appear in the presence of Lenore while suffering the pangs of hunger! Was that love?
I thought it was; and on this fancy, and a single roll of bread, I lived from day to day. Never had I been so happy, and, at the same time, so wretched. I could look upon her I loved, and converse with her for hours at a time. That was happiness. But I loved Lenore, and must leave her. That was misery.
Lenore seemed to meet me with so much cheerfulness, that my resolution to leave her – without being absolutely compelled to it – was often nearly broken; and I believe there are but few who would have resisted the temptation to stay. But pride, a sense of justice, and a love of independence, prompted me to go forth again upon the world, and seek fortune afresh. Perhaps, too, the fact that I was naturally a “rolling stone,” might have had much to do in my determination, at length arrived at, of bidding adieu to Lenore. There was yet another motive urging my departure – one which had been too long allowed to lie dormant within my bosom; my relatives were lost, and I knew not where to find them. This thought often arose, causing me much regret. I had as yet no reason to believe that they had left Liverpool; but if such should prove to be the case, the sooner I started in search of them, the sooner would my conscience be satisfied.
I waited till my last shilling was spent; and then sold a signet ring – which I had taken from the finger of a dead Mexican, on the field of battle – obtaining thirty shillings for it. With this trifling sum I had a great deal to accomplish. It constituted the sole fund with which my relatives were to be sought and found. It was the capital I had to invest, in the business of making a fortune worthy of Lenore!
I advertised for my mother in some of the Liverpool papers; but the only result was the loss of the greater part of my cash. She had probably gone after Mr Leary to Australia. Having followed him from Dublin to Liverpool, was proof that she was foolish enough to follow him to the Antipodes; and the money she had received for the lease of her house, would enable her to go there.
Had I been certain that she had sailed to Australia, I should have gone after