How did Mrs. Compton?

December 28.--In spite of my quiet habits and constant seclusion I feel that I am under some surveillance, not from Mrs. Compton, but from others. I have been out twice during the last fortnight and perceived this plainly. Men in the walks who were at work quietly followed me with their eyes. I see that I am watched. I did not know that I was of sufficient importance.

Yesterday a strange incident occurred. Mrs. Compton was with me, and by some means or other my thoughts turned to one about whom I have often tried to form conjectures--my mother. How could she ever have married a man like my father? What could she have been like? Suddenly I turned to Mrs. Compton, and said:

"Did you ever see my mother?"

What there could have been in my question I can not tell, but she trembled and looked at me with greater fear in her face than I had ever seen there before. This time she seemed to be afraid of me. I myself felt a cold chill run through my frame. That awful thought which I had once before known flashed across my mind.

"Oh!" cried Mrs. Compton, suddenly, "oh, don't look at me so; don't look at me so!"

"I don't understand you," said I, slowly.

She hid her face in her hands and began to weep. I tried to soothe her, and with some success, for after a time she regained her composure.

Nothing more was said. But since then one thought, with a long series of attendant thoughts, has weighed down my mind. _Who am I? What am I? What am I doing here? What do these people want with me? Why do they guard me?_

I can write no more.

January 14, 1849.--The days drag on. Nothing new has happened. I am tormented by strange thoughts. I see this plainly that there are times when I inspire fear in this house. Why is this?

Since that day, many, many months ago, when they all looked at me in horror, I have seen none of them. Now Mrs. Compton has exhibited the same fear. There is a restraint over her. Yes, she too fears me. Yet she is kind; and poor Philips never forgets to send me flowers.

I could smile at the idea of any one fearing me, if it were not for the terrible thoughts that arise within my mind.

February 12.--Of late all my thoughts have changed, and I have been inspired with an uncontrollable desire to escape. I live here in luxury, but the meanest house outside would be far preferable. Every hour here is a sorrow, every day a misery. Oh, me! if I could but escape!

Once in that outer world I care not what might happen. I would be willing to do menial labor to earn my bread. Yet it need not come to that. The lessons which Paolo taught me have been useful in more ways than one. I know that I at least need not be dependent.

He used to say to me that if I chose to go on the stage and sing, I could do something better than gain a living or make a fortune. He said I could interpret the ideas of the Great Masters, and make myself a blessing to the world.

Why need I stay here when I have a voice which he used to deign to praise? He did not praise it because he loved me; but I think he loved me because he loved my voice. He loves my voice better than me. And that other one! Ah me--will he ever hear my voice again? Did he know how sweet his voice was to me? Oh me! its tones ring in my ears and in my heart night and day.

March 5.--My resolution is formed. This may be my last entry. I pray to G.o.d that it may be. I will trust in him and fly. At night they can not be watching me. There is a door at the north end, the key of which is always in it. I can steal out by that direction and gain my liberty.

Oh Thou who hearest prayer, grant deliverance to the captive!

Farewell now, my journal; I hope never to see you again! Yet I will secrete you in this chamber, for if I am compelled to return I may be glad to seek you again.

March 6.--Not yet! Not yet!

Alas! and since yesterday what things have happened! Last night I was to make my attempt. They dined at eight, and I waited for them to retire. I waited long. They were longer than usual.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "OH!" CRIED MRS. COMPTON SUDDENLY, "OH, DON'T LOOK AT ME SO; DON'T LOOK AT ME SO!"]

At about ten o'clock Mrs. Compton came into my room, with as frightened a face as usual. "They want you," said she.

I knew whom she meant. "Must I go?" said I.

"Alas, dear child, what can you do? Trust in G.o.d. He can save you."

"He alone can save me," said I, "if He will. It has come to this that I have none but Him in whom I can trust."

She began to weep. I said no more, but obeyed the command and went down.

Since I was last there months had pa.s.sed--months of suffering and anguish in body and mind. The remembrance of my last visit there came over me as I entered. Yet I did not tremble or falter. I crossed the threshold and entered the room, and stood before them in silence.

I saw the three men who had been there before. _He_ and his son, and the man Clark, They had all been drinking. Their voices were loud and their laughter boisterous as I approached. When I entered they became quiet, and all three stared at me. At last _he_ said to his son,

"She don't look any fatter, does she, Johnnie?"

"She gets enough to eat, any how," answered John.

"She's one of them kind," said the man Clark, "that don't fatten up. But then, Johnnie, you needn't talk--you haven't much fat yourself, lad."

"Hard work," said John, whereupon the others, thinking it an excellent joke, burst into hoa.r.s.e laughter. This put them into great good-humor with themselves, and they began to turn their attention to me again. Not a word was said for some time.

"Can you dance?" said he, at last, speaking to me abruptly.

"Yes," I answered.

"Ah! I thought so. I paid enough for your education, any how. It would be hard if you hadn't learned any thing else except squalling and banging on the piano."

I said nothing.

"Why do you stare so, d--n you?" he cried, looking savagely at me.

I looked at the floor.

"Come now," said he. "I sent for you to see if you can dance. Dance!"

I stood still. "Dance!" he repeated with an oath. "Do you hear?"

"I can not," said I.

"Perhaps you want a partner," continued he, with a sneer. "Here, Johnnie, go and help her."

"I'd rather not," said John.

"Clark, you try it--you were always gay," and he gave a hoa.r.s.e laugh.

"Yes, Clark," cried John. "Now's your chance."

Clark hesitated for a moment, and then came toward me. I stood with my arms folded, and looked at him fixedly. I was not afraid. For I thought in that hour of who these men were, and what they were. My life was in their hands, but I held life cheap. I rose above the fear of the moment, and felt myself their superior.

Clark came up to me and stopped. I did not move.

"Curse her!" said he. "I'd as soon dance with a ghost. She looks like one, any how."

_He_ laughed boisterously.