Melissa accompanied him to the gate and the bridge, which was let down: he pa.s.sed over, and she slowly withdrew, both frequently turning to look back. When she came to the gate, she stopped;--Alonzo stopped also. She waved a white handkerchief she had in her hand, and Alonzo bowed in answer to the sign. She then leisurely entered and slowly shut the gate.--Alonzo could not forbear climbing up into a tree to catch another glimpse of her as she pa.s.sed up the avenue. With lingering step he saw her move along, soon receding from his view in the gray twilight of misty morning. He then descended, and hastily proceeded on his journey.

Traits of glory now painted the eastern skies. The glittering day-star, having unbarred the portals of light, began to transmit its retrocessive l.u.s.tre. Thin scuds flew swiftly over the moon's decrescent form. Low, hollow winds, murmured among the bushes, or brushed the limpid drops from intermingling foliage. The fire-fly[A] sunk, feebly twinkling, amidst the herbage of the fields. The dusky shadows of night fled to the deep glens, and rocky caverns of the wilderness. The American lark soared high in the air, consecrating its matin lay to morn's approaching splendours. The woodlands began to ring with native melody--the forest tops, on high mountains, caught the sun's first ray, which, widening and extending, soon gem'd the landscape with brilliants of a thousand various dies.

[Footnote A: The American lampyris, vulgarly called the lightning-bug.]

As Alonzo came out of the fields near the road, he saw two persons pa.s.sing in an open chair. They suddenly stopped, earnestly gazing at him. They were wrapped in long riding cloaks, and it could not be distinguished from their dress whether they were men or women. He stood not to notice them, but made the best of his way to Vincent's, where he arrived about noon.--Rejoiced to find that he had discovered Melissa, they applauded the plan of her removal, and a.s.sisted him in obtaining a carriage. A sedan was procured, and he set out to return, promising to see Vincent again, as soon as he had removed Melissa to Mr. Simpson's.

He made such use of his time as to arrive at the mansion at the hour appointed. He found the draw-bridge down, the gate open, and saw, as had been agreed upon, the light at the lower window, glimmering through the branches of trees. He was therefore a.s.sured that Melissa was alone. His heart beat; a joyful tremor seized his frame; Melissa was soon to be under his care, for a short time at least.--He drove up to the house, sprang out of the carriage, and fastened his horse to a locust tree: The door was open; he went in, flew lightly up stairs, entered her chamber--Melissa was not there! A small fire was blazing on the hearth, a candle was burning on the table. He stood petrified with amazement, then gazed around in anxious solicitude. What could have become of her?

It was impossible, he tho't, but that she must still be there.

Had she been removed by fraud or force, the signal candle would not have been at the window. Perhaps, in a freakish moment, she had concealed herself for no other purpose than to cause him a little perplexity. He therefore took the candle and searched every corner of the chamber, and every room of the house, not even missing the garret and the cellar.

He then placed the candle in a lantern, and went out and examined the out-houses: he next went round the garden and the yard, strictly exploring and investigating every place; but he found her not. He repeatedly and loudly called her by name; he was answered only by the solitary echoes of the wilderness.

Again he returned to the house, traversed the rooms, there also calling on the name of Melissa: his voice reverberated from the walls, dying away in solemn murmurs in the distant empty apartments. Thus did he continue his anxious scrutiny, alternately in the house and the enclosure, until day--but no traces could be discovered, nothing seen or heard of Melissa. What had become of her he could not form the most distant conjecture. Nothing was removed from the house; the beds, the chairs, the table, all the furniture remained in the same condition as when he was there the night before;--the candle, as had been agreed upon, was at the window, and another was burning on the table:--it was therefore evident that she could not have been long gone when he arrived. By what means she had thus suddenly disappeared, was a most deep and inscrutable mystery.

When the sun had arisen, he once more repeated his inquisitive search, but with the same effect. He then, in extreme vexation and disappointment, flung himself into the sedan, and drove from the mansion. Frequently did he look back at the building, anxiously did he scrutinize every surrounding and receding object. A thrill of pensive recollection vibrated through his frame as he pa.s.sed the gate, and the keen agonizing pangs of blasted hope, pierced his heart, as his carriage rolled over the bridge.

Once more he cast a "longing, lingering look" upon the premises behind, sacred only for the treasure they lately possessed; then sunk backward in his seat, and was dragged slowly away.

Alonzo had understood from Melissa, that John's hut was situated about one mile north from the mansion where she had been confined. When he came out near the road, he left his horse and carriage, after securing them, and went in search of it.--He soon discovered it, and knew it from the description given thereof by Melissa.--He went up and knocked at the door, which was opened by John, whom Alonzo also knew, from the portrait Melissa had drawn of him.

John started in amazement. "Understanding, said Alonzo, that you have the charge of the old mansion in yonder field, I have come to know if you can inform me what has become of the young lady who has been confined there."

"Confined! answered John, I did not know she was confined."

Recollecting himself, "I mean the young lady who has lately resided there with her aunt," replied Alonzo.

"She was there last night, answered John; her aunt is gone into the country and has not returned."

Alonzo then told him the situation of the mansion, and that she was not there. John informed him that she was there about sunset, and according to her request he had left the keys of the gate and bridge with her: he desired Alonzo to tarry there until he ran to the mansion.

He returned in about half an hour. "She is gone, sure enough, said John; but how, or where, it is impossible for me to guess."--Convinced that he knew nothing of the matter, Alonzo left him and returned to Vincent's.

Vincent and his lady were much surprised at Alonzo's account of Melissa's sudden disappearance, and they wished to ascertain whether her father's family knew any thing of the circ.u.mstance. Social intercourse had become suspended between the families of Vincent and Melissa's father, as the latter had taxed the former of improperly endeavouring to promote the views of Alonzo. They therefore procured a neighbouring woman to visit Melissa's mother, to see if any information could be obtained concerning Melissa; but the old lady had heard nothing of her since her departure with her aunt, who had never yet returned.--Alonzo left Vincent's and went to Mr. Simpson's. He told them all that had happened since he was there, of which, before, they had heard nothing.

At the houses of Mr. Simpson and Vincent he resided some time, while they made the most dilligent search to discover Melissa; but nothing could be learned of her fate.

Alonzo then travelled into various parts of the country, making such enquiries as caution dictated of all whom he thought likely to give him information;--but he found none who could give him the least intelligence of his lost Melissa.

In the course of his wanderings he pa.s.sed near the old mansion house where Melissa had been confined. He felt an inclination once more to visit it: he proceeded over the bridge, which was down, but he found the gate locked. He therefore hurried back and went to John's, whom he found at home. On enquiring of John whether he had yet heard any thing of the young lady and her aunt; "All I know of the matter, said John, is, that two days after you were here, her aunt came back with a strange gentleman, and ordered me to go and fetch the furniture away from the room they had occupied in the old mansion. I asked her what had become of young madam. She told me that young madam had behaved very indiscreetly, and she found fault with me for leaving the keys in her possession, though I did not know that any harm could arise from it.

From the discourse which my wife and I afterwards overheard between madam and the strange gentleman, I understood that young madam had been sent to reside with some friend or relation at a great distance, because her father wanted her to marry a man, and she wishes to marry somebody else." From John's plain and simple narrative, Alonzo concluded that Melissa had been removed by her father's order, or through the agency, or instigation of her aunt. Whether his visit to the old mansion had been somehow discovered or suspected, or whether she was removed by some preconcerted or antecedent plan, he could not conjecture.--Still, the situation in which he found the mansion the night he went to convey her away, left an inexplicable impression on his mind. He could in no manner account how the candle could be placed at the window according to agreement, unless it had been done by herself; and if so, how had she so suddenly been conveyed away?

Alonzo asked John where Melissa's aunt now was.

"She left here yesterday morning, he answered, with the strange gentleman I mentioned, on a visit to some of her friends."

"Was the strange gentleman you speak of her brother?" asked Alonzo.

"I believe not, replied John, smiling and winking to his wife;--I know not who he was; somebody that madam seems to like pretty well."

"Have you the care of the old mansion?" said Alonzo.

"Yes, answered John, I have the keys; I will accompany you thither, perhaps you would like to purchase it; madam said yesterday she thought she should sell it."

Alonzo told him he had no thoghts of purchasing, thanked him for his information, and departed.

Convinced now that Melissa was removed by the agency of her persecutors, he compared the circ.u.mstances of John's relation. "She had been sent to reside with some friend or relation at a great distance." This great distance, he believed to be New London, and her friend or relation, her cousin, at whose house Alonzo first saw her, under whose care she would be safe, and Beauman would have an opportunity of renewing his addresses. Under these impressions, Alonzo did not long hesitate what course to pursue--he determined to repair to New London immediately.

In pursuance of his design he went to his father's. He found the old gentleman with his man contentedly tilling his farm, and his mother cheerfully attending to household affairs, as their narrow circ.u.mstances would not admit her to keep a maid without embarra.s.sment. Alonzo's soul sickened on comparing the present state of his family with its former affluence; but it was an unspeakable consolation to see his aged parents contented and happy in their humble situation; and though the idea could not pluck the thorn from his own bosom, yet it tended temporarily to a.s.suage the anguish of the wound.

"You have been long gone, my son, said his father; I scarcely knew what had become of you. Since I have become a farmer I know little of what is going forward in the world; and indeed we were never happier in our lives. After stocking and paying for my farm, and purchasing the requisites for my business, I have got considerable money at command: we live frugally, and realize the blessings of health, comfort, and contentment. Our only disquietude is on your account, Alonzo. Your affair with Melissa, I suppose, is not so favourable as you could wish.

But despair not, my son; hope is the harbinger of fairer prospects: rely on Providence, which never deserts those who submissively bow to the justice of its dispensations."

Unwilling to disturb the serenity of his parents, Alonzo did not tell them his troubles. He answered, that perhaps all might yet come right; but that, as in the present state of his mind he thought a change of situation might be of advantage, he asked liberty of his father to travel for some little time. To this his father consented, and offered him a part of the money he had on hand, which Alonzo refused, saying he did not expect to be long gone, and his resources had not failed him.

He then sold off his books, his horses, his carriages, &c. the _insignia_ of his better days, but now useless appendages, from which he raised no inconsiderable sum.--He then took a tender and affectionate leave of his parents, and set out for New London.

Alonzo journeyed along with a heavy heart and in an enfeebled frame of spirits. Through disappointment, vexation, and the fatigues he had undergone in wandering about, for a long time, in search of Melissa, despondency had seized upon his mind, and indisposition upon his body.

He put up the first night within a few miles of New Haven, and as he pa.s.sed through that town the next morning, the scenes of early life in which he had there been an actor, moved in melancholy succession over his mind. That day he grew more indisposed; he experienced an unusual languor, listlessness and debility; chills, followed by hot flashes, heavy pains in the head and back, with incessant and intolerable thirst.

It was near night when he reached Killingsworth, where he halted, as he felt unable to go farther: he called for a bed, and through the night was racked with severe pain, and scorched with a burning fever.

The next morning he requested that the physician of the town might be sent for;--he came and ordered a prescription which gave his patient some relief; and by strict attention, in about ten days Alonzo was able to pursue his journey. He arrived at New London, and took lodgings with a private family of the name of Wyllis, in a retired part of the town.

The first object was to ascertain whether Melissa was at her cousin's.

But how should he obtain this information? He knew no person in the town except it was those whom he had reason to suppose were leagued against him. Should he go to the house of her cousin, it might prove an injury to her if she were there, and could answer no valuable purpose if she were not.--The evening after he arrived there he wrapped himself up in his cloak and took the street which led to the house of Melissa's cousin: he stopped when he came against it, to see if he could make any discoveries. As people were pa.s.sing and repa.s.sing the street, he got over into a small enclosure which adjoined the house, and stood under a tree, about thirty yards from the house: he had not long occupied this station, before a lady came to the chamber window, which was flung up, opposite to the place where he stood; she leaned out, looked earnestly around for a few minutes, then shut it and retired. She had brought a candle into the room, but did not bring it to the window; of course he could not distinguish her features so as to identify them.

He knew it was not the wife of Melissa's cousin, and from her appearance he believed it to be Melissa. Again the window opened, again the same lady appeared;--she took a seat at a little distance within the room; she reclined with her head upon her hand, and her arm appeared to be supported by a stand or table. Alonzo's heart beat violently; he now had a side view of her face, and was more than ever convinced that it was Melissa. Her delicate features, though more pale and dejected than when last he saw her;--her brown hair, which fell in artless circles around her lily neck; her arched eye-brows and commanding aspect. Alonzo moved towards the house, with a design, if possible, to draw her attention, and should it really prove to be Melissa, to discover himself. He had proceeded but a few steps before she arose, shut the window, retired, and the light disappeared. Alonzo waited a considerable time, but she appeared no more. Supposing she had retired for the night, he slowly withdrew, chagrined at this disappointment, yet pleased at the discovery he had made.

The family with whom Alonzo had taken lodgings were fashionable and respectable. The following afternoon they had appointed to visit a friend, and they invited Alonzo to accompany them. When they named the family where their visit was intended, he found it to be Melissa's cousin. Alonzo therefore declined going under pretence of business. He however waited with anxiety for their return, hoping he should be able to learn by their conversation, whether Melissa was there or not.--When they returned he made some enquiries concerning the families in town, until the conversation turned upon the family they had visited. "The young lady who resides there, said Mrs. Wyllis, is undoubtedly in a confirmed decline; she will never recover."

Alonzo started, deeply agitated. "Who is the young lady?" he asked. "She is sister to the gentleman's wife where we visited, answered Mr.

Wyllis;--her father lives in Newport, and she has come here for her health." "Do you not think, said Mrs. Wyllis, that she resembles their cousin Melissa, who resided there some time ago?" "Very much indeed, replied her husband, only she is not quite so handsome."

Again was Alonzo disappointed, and again did he experience a melancholy pleasure: he had the last night hoped that he had discovered Melissa; but to find her in a hopeless decline, was worse than that she should remain undiscovered.

"It is reported, said Mrs. Wyllis, that Melissa has been upon the verge of matrimony, but that the treaty was somehow broken off; perhaps Beauman will renew his addresses again, should this be the case."

"Beauman has other business besides addressing the ladies, answered Mr.

Wyllis. He has marched to the lines near New-York with his new raised company of volunteers."[A]

[Footnote A: New-York was then in possession of the British troops.]

From this discourse, Alonzo was convinced that Melissa was not the person he had seen at her cousin's the preceding evening, and that she was not there. He also found that Beauman was not in town. Where to search next, or what course to pursue, he was at a loss to determine.

The next morning he rose early and wandered about the town. As he pa.s.sed by the house of Melissa's cousin, he saw the lady, who had appeared at the window, walking in the garden. Her air, her figure, had very much the appearance of Melissa; but the lineaments of her countenance were, when viewed by the light of day, widely dissimilar. Alonzo felt no strong curiosity farther to examine her features, but pa.s.sing on, returned to his lodgings.

How he was now to proceed, Alonzo could not readily decide. To return to his native place, appeared to be as useless as to tarry where he was.

For many weeks had he travelled and searched every place where he thought it probable Melissa might be found, both among her relatives and elsewhere. He had made every effort to obtain some clue to her removal from the old mansion, but he could learn nothing but what he had been told by John. If his friends should ever hear of her, they could not inform him thereof, as no one knew where he was. Would it not, therefore, be best for him to return back, and consult with his friends, and if nothing had been heard of her, pursue some other mode of enquiry?

He might, at least, leave directions where his friends might write to him, in case they should have any thing whereof to apprise him.