Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 15 (42 page)

 
          
“Sybil,
I have something to show and tell you,” he said, as I garnished his buttonhole
with a spray of heliotrope, meant for the laggard, who would understand its
significance, I hoped. Leading me to the drawing room, my uncle put a paper
into my hands, with the request “This is a copy of your fathers will; oblige me
by reading it.”

 
          
He
stood watching my face as I read, no doubt wondering at my composure while I
waded through the dry details of the will, curbing my impatience to reach the
one important passage. There it was, but no word concerning my power to
dissolve the engagement if I pleased; and, as I realized the fact, a sudden
bewilderment and sense of helplessness came over me, for the strange law terms
seemed to make inexorable the paternal decree which I had not seen before. I
forgot my studied calmness, and asked several questions eagerly.

 
          
“Uncle,
did my father really command that I should marry Guy, whether we loved each
other or not?”

 
          
“You
see what he there set down as his desire; and I have taken measures that you should
love one another, knowing that few cousins, young, comely, and congenial, could
live three months together without finding themselves ready to mate for their
own sakes, if not for the sake of the dead and living fathers to whom they owe
obedience.”

 
          
“You
said I need not, if I didn’t choose; why is it not here?”

 
          
“I
said that? Never, Sybil!” and I met a look of such entire surprise and
incredulity it staggered my belief in my own senses, yet also roused my spirit,
and, careless of consequences, I spoke out at once.

 
          
“I
heard you say it myself the night after I came, when you told Guy to be
cautious, because I could refuse to fulfill the engagement, if I knew that it
was not binding against my will.”

 
          
This
discovery evidently destroyed some plan, and for a moment threw him off his
guard; for, crumpling the paper in his hand, he sternly demanded, “You turned
eavesdropper early; how often since?”

 
          
“Never,
Uncle; I did not mean it then, but going for a letter in the dark, I heard your
voices, and listened for an instant. It was dishonorable, but irresistible; and
if you force Guy’s confidence, why should not I steal yours? All is fair in
war, sir, and I forgive as I hope to be forgiven.”

 
          
“You
have a quick wit and a reticence I did not expect to find under that frank
manner. So you have known your future destiny all these months then, and have a
purpose in your treatment of your cousin and myself?”

 
          
“Yes, Uncle.”

 
          
“May
I ask what?”

 
          
I
was ashamed to tell; and in the little pause before my answer came, my pique at
Guy’s desertion was augmented by anger at my uncle’s denial of his own words
the ungenerous hopes he cherished, and a strong desire to perplex and thwart
him took possession of me, for I saw his anxiety concerning the success of this
interview, though he endeavored to repress and conceal it. Assuming my coldest
mien, I said, “No, sir, I think not; only I can assure you that my little plot
has succeeded better than your own.”

 
          
“But
you intend to obey your father’s wish, I hope, and fulfill your part of the
compact, Sybil?”

 
          
“Why
should I? It is not binding, you know, and I’m too young to lose my liberty
just yet; besides, such compacts are unjust, unwise. What right had my father
to mate me in my cradle? How did he know what I should become, or Guy? How
could he tell that I should not love someone else better? No! I’ll not be
bargained away like a piece of merchandise, but love and marry when I please!”

 
          
At
this declaration of independence my uncle’s face darkened ominously, some new
suspicion lurked in his eye, some new anxiety beset him; but his manner was
calm, his voice blander than ever as he asked,
“
Is
there then someone whom you love? Confide in me, my girl.”

 
          
“And
if there
were,
what then?”

 
          
“All
would be changed at once, Sybil. But who is it? Some young lover left behind at
Madame’s?”

 
          
“No, sir.”

 
          
“Who, then?
You have led a recluse life here. Guy has no
friends who visit him, and mine are all old, yet you say you love.”

 
          
“With all my heart, Uncle.”

 
          
“Is
this affection returned, Sybil?”

 
          
“I
think so.”

 
          
“And
it is not Guy?”

 
          
I
was wicked enough to enjoy the bitter disappointment he could not conceal at my
decided words, for I thought he deserved that momentary pang; but I could not
as decidedly answer that last question, for I would not lie, neither would I
confess just yet; so, with a little gesture of impatience, I silently turned
away, lest he should see the telltale color in my cheeks. My uncle stood an
instant in deep thought, a slow smile crept to his lips, content returned to
his mien, and something like a flash of triumph glittered for a moment in his
eye,
then
vanished, leaving his countenance earnestly
expectant. Much as this change surprised me, his words did more, for, taking
both my hands in his, he gravely said, “Do you know that I am your uncle by
adoption and not blood, Sybil?”

 
          
“Yes,
sir; I heard so, but forgot about it,” and I looked up at him, my anger quite
lost in astonishment.

 
          
“Let
me tell you then. Your grandfather was childless for many years, my mother was
an early friend, and when her death left me an orphan, he took me for his son
and heir. But two years from that time your father was born. I was too young to
realize the entire change this might make in my life. The old man was too just
and generous to let me feel it, and the two lads grew up together like
brothers. Both married young, and when you were born a few years later than my
son, your father said to me, ‘Your boy shall have my girl, and the fortune I
have innocently robbed you of shall make us happy in our children’ Then the
family league was made, renewed at his death, and now destroyed by his
daughter, unless—Sybil, I am forty-five, you not eighteen, yet you once said
you could be very happy with me, if I were always kind to you. I can promise
that I will be, for I love you. My darling, you reject the son, will you accept
the father?”

 
          
If
he had struck me, it would scarcely have dismayed me more. I started up, and
snatching away my hands, hid my face in them, for after the first tingle of surprise
an almost irresistible desire to laugh came over me, but I dared not, and
gravely, gently he went on.

 
          
“I
am a bold man to say this, yet I mean it most sincerely. I never meant to
betray the affection I believed you never could return, and would only laugh at
as a weakness; but your past acts, your present words, give me courage to
confess that I desire to keep my ward mine forever. Shall it be so?”

 
          
He
evidently mistook my surprise for maidenly emotion, and the suddenness of this
unforeseen catastrophe seemed to deprive me of words. All thought of merriment
or ridicule was forgotten in a sense of guilt, for if he feigned the love he
offered it was well done, and I believed it then. I saw at once the natural
impression conveyed by my conduct; my half confession and the folly of it all
oppressed me with a regret and shame I could not master. My mind was in dire
confusion, yet a decided “No” was rapidly emerging from the chaos, but was not
uttered; for just at this crisis, as I stood with my uncle’s arm about me, my
hand again in his, and his head bent down to catch my answer, Guy swung himself
gaily into the room.

 
          
A
glance seemed to explain all, and in an instant his face assumed that
expression of pale wrath so much more terrible to witness than the fiercest
outbreak; his eye grew fiery, his voice bitterly sarcastic, as he said, “Ah, I
see; the play goes on, but the actors change parts. I congratulate you, sir, on
your success, and Sybil on her choice. Henceforth I am de trop, but before I go
allow me to offer my wedding gift. You have taken the bride, let me supply the
ring.”

 
          
He
threw a jewel box upon the table, adding, in that unnaturally calm tone that
made my heart stand still:

 
          
“A
little candor would have spared me much pain, Sybil; yet I hope you will enjoy
your bonds as heartily as I shall my escape from them. A little confidence
would have made me your ally, not your rival, Father. I have not your address;
therefore I lose, you win. Let it be so. I had rather be the vagabond this
makes me than sell myself, that you may gamble away that girl's fortune as you
have your own and mine. You need not ask me to the wedding, I will not come.
Oh, Sybil, I so loved, so trusted you!”

 
          
And
with that broken exclamation he was gone.

 
          
The
stormy scene had passed so rapidly, been so strange and sudden, Guy's anger so
scornful and abrupt, I could not understand it, and felt like a puppet in the
grasp of some power I could not resist; but as my lover left the room I broke
out of the bewilderment that held me, imploring him to stay and hear me.

 
          
It
was too late, he was gone, and Sultan's tramp was already tearing down the
avenue. I listened till the sound died, then my hot temper rose past control,
and womanlike asserted itself in vehement and voluble speech. I was angry with
my uncle, my cousin, and myself, and for several minutes poured forth a torrent
of explanations, reproaches, and regrets, such as only a passionate girl could
utter.

 
          
My
uncle stood where I had left him when I flew
tc
the
door with my vain cry; he now looked baffled, yet sternly resolved, and as I
paused for breath his only answer was “Sybil, you ask me to bring back that
headstrong boy; I cannot; he will never come. This marriage was distasteful to
him, yet he submitted for my sake, because I have been unfortunate, and we are
poor. Let him go, forget the past, and be to me what I desire, for I loved your
father and will be a faithful guardian to his daughter all my life. Child, it
must be—come, I implore, I command you.”

 
          
He
beckoned imperiously as if to awe me, and held up the glittering betrothal ring
as if to tempt me. The tone, the act, the look put me quite beside myself. I
did go to him, did take the ring, but said as resolutely as
himself
,
“Guy rejects me, and I have done with love. Uncle, you would have deceived me,
used me as a means to your own selfish ends. I will accept neither yourself nor
your gifts, for now I despise both you and your commands.” And as the most
energetic emphasis I could give to my defiance, I flung the ring, case and all,
across the room; it struck the great mirror, shivered it just in the middle,
and sent several loosened fragments crashing to the floor.

 
          
“Great heavens!
Is the young lady mad?” exclaimed a voice
behind us. Both turned and saw Dr. Karnac, a stealthy, sallow-faced Spaniard,
for whom I had an invincible aversion. He was my uncle’s physician, had been
visiting a sick servant in the upper regions, and my adverse fate sent him to
the door just at that moment with that unfortunate exclamation on his lips.

 
          
“What
do you say?”

 
          
My
uncle wheeled about and eyed the newcomer intently as he repeated his words. I
have no doubt I looked like one demented, for I was desperately angry, pale and
trembling with excitement, and as they fronted me with a curious expression of
alarm on their faces, a sudden sense of the absurdity of the spectacle came
over me; I laughed hysterically a moment, then broke into a passion of
regretful tears, remembering that Guy was gone. As I sobbed behind my hands, I
knew the gentlemen were whispering together and of me, but I never heeded them,
for as I wept myself calmer a comforting thought occurred to me. Guy could not
have gone far, for Sultan had been out all day, and though reckless of himself
he was not of his horse, which he loved like a human being; therefore he was
doubtless at the house of a humble friend nearby. If I could slip away unseen,
I might undo my miserable work, or at least see him again before he went away
into the world, perhaps never to return. This hope gave me courage for
anything, and dashing away my tears, I took a covert survey. Dr. Karnac and my
uncle still stood before the fire, deep in their low-toned conversation; their
backs were toward me; and hushing the rustle of my dress, I stole away with noiseless
steps into the hall, seized Guy’s plaid, and, opening the great door unseen,
darted down the avenue.