ARTHUR
83

There was no one there except an old man, crouching in the corner of the chimney. His face, though wrinkled, showed unshakable health and an unwavering spirit. Her own woven coat, age-wrinkled leather pants, and blue thread hose, were perfect for her thin, wrinkled body. On his right knee was a wooden bowl, which he had just filled from a lump of hasty pudding that was still smoky on the coals; and in his left hand a spoon, which he had just filled, which at that moment he put into a bottle of molasses that stood beside him.

This action was suspended by my entrance. He looked up and exclaimed, "Hey! Who is this who came to someone else's house without saying much 'with your permission'? What's your business ? Who do you want?"

I've never seen this figure before. I thought it was a new house, and asked Mr. Hadwin .

"Aah!" he replied, sighing, "William Hadwin . Is he the one you want? Poor thing! He went to rest a few days since then."

My heart sank deep into me at this news. "Dead!" I said; "what do you mean he's dead?" This cry was uttered in a rather loud tone. It caught the attention of someone standing outside, who immediately entered the kitchen. That's Eliza Hadwin . The moment she saw me, she screamed loudly, and, rushing into my arms, fainted.

The old man dropped his bowl; and, starting from his seat, stared alternately at me and the panting girl. My emotions, consisting of joy, and sadness, and shock, left me momentarily helpless like him. Finally he said, "I understand this. I know who you are, and will tell him that you've come." Saying that, he hurriedly left the room.

In a short time this gentle girl recovered. She did not pull herself from my supporting arm, but, leaning against my chest, she succumbed to a passionate cry. I did not attempt to examine this effusion, believing that its effect would be beneficial.

I did not forget the thrilling sensitivity and the artless elegance of this girl. I did not forget the doubts that once made me resist the lusts whose tendencies were easy to find. New evidence of this affection is, at once, sad and joyful. The fate of my father and friend who were too early pressed on with new strength in my heart, and my tears, despite my fortitude, mixed with her tears.

The attention of the two was currently attracted by the faint cry, which sounded from above. Staggered footsteps immediately rang out in the passageway, and a figure rushed into the room, pale, emaciated, haggard, and wild. He threw a sharp look at me, uttered a weak cry, and sank on the floor with no sign of life.

It is not difficult to understand this scene. Now I suspect, what the next investigation confirmed, that the old man mistook me for Wallace, and had delivered to the older sister the news of his return. The fatal disappointment of the near-extinct hope, and the one now revived so powerfully, could not be borne by the nearly destroyed skeleton.

This object remembered all of Eliza's energy, and caught my attention. I lifted the fallen girl in my arms; and, guided by her sister, led her to her room. Now I have some free time to reflect on the changes that have been made over the past few months in this beautiful frame. I turned away from the spectacle with sadness, but my wandering eyes were remembered by the strong attraction, and were fixated with horror at the form that showed the last stage of decay. Eliza knelt on one side, and, leaning her face on the bed, tried in vain to hold back her sobs. I sat on the other side motionless, and held the passive hand and withered the sufferer.

I watched with indescribable attention the return of life. It came back at length, but only to show symptoms that it would quickly go away forever. For a moment my abilities were crippled, and I was made into an impotent spectator of the destruction that surrounded me. This assertiveness quickly gave way to resolutions and reflections that more closely matched the urgency of the moment.

I felt that the house had no occupants other than the two women and the old man. I went looking for the latter, and found him crouching, as before, in the kitchen fireplace, sucking his pipe. I put myself on the same bench, and started a conversation with him.

I concluded from him that he had, over the years, been a servant of Mr. Hadwin . That lately he had cultivated a small farm in this neighborhood for his own benefit. Stopping one day in October, at the tavern, he heard that his old master had recently been in town, had a fever, and upon returning, he died of a fever. When she was sick, her servant ran away from home, and the neighbors refused to approach her. The task of caring for his sick bed was given to his daughters, and it was with their hands that his grave was dug up and his body covered with earth. The same infectious terror existed after her death as before, and this poor woman was abandoned by the entire human race.

Old Caleb was soon informed of these special things, he rushed to the house, and has since continued their ministry. His heart was kind, but it was easily seen that his skill only extended to executing the direction of others. Grief over the death of Wallace and his father preys on the health of his eldest daughter. The younger one becomes his nurse, and Caleb is always ready to carry out any orders that perform according to his understanding. Their neighbors do not hold back their good services, but they are still frightened and alienated by the ghosts of pestilence.

For the past week Susan was too weak to get out of her bed; yet that was how the energy communicated by the news that Wallace was still alive, and had returned, so she jumped to her feet and rushed down the stairs. How few men deserve such a heavy and lasting affection!

I will not allow myself to reflect on the suffering of these women. I try to think only of the best way to end this disaster. After considering for a while, I decided to go to a house that was a few miles away; the residence of someone who, though not in spite of the rampant panic, was, have shown more generosity towards these unhappy girls than others. During my stay in this district, I have ascertained his character, and found him to be compassionate and liberal.

Mastered by fatigue and watching, Eliza was not immediately relieved, by my presence, of some part of her attention, than she was immersed in a deep sleep. I told Caleb to guard the house until I got back, which should be before midnight, and then left for Mr.'s residence. Ellis.

The weather is temperate and humid, and making the meadow footing very difficult. The ground, which has lately been frozen and covered in snow, is now turning into ditches and ponds, and this is not the time to be fussy in choosing a path. A river, which swells due to recent thawing, must also be skipped. The rails I had placed on top of the bridge were gone, and I had to wade through them. I finally approached the house I was going to.

At this late hour, farmers and peasant maids are usually put to sleep, and their threshold is entrusted to their guard dogs. Two belonged to Mr. Ellis, whose ferocity and vigilance were truly great to strangers; but I hoped that in me they would recognize an old acquaintance, and let me draw near. In this case I am not wrong. Although my people could not be clearly seen by the starlight, they seemed to kiss me from afar, and met me with thousands of caresses.

Approaching the house, I saw that the tenant was retired. This was expected, and immediately woke up Mr. Ellis, knocking on the door quickly. Right now he was looking out the window above, and, in answer to his question, where the impatience of being bullied was unnaturally mixed with anxiety, I told him my name, I told him, and asked him to come down and allow me to chat a few minutes. . He quickly dressed himself, and, opening the kitchen door, we sat in front of the bonfire.

My appearance was adapted enough to arouse his astonishment; he had heard of my elopement from Mr. Hadwin's house, he was unfamiliar with the motives that drove my departure, and with the events that befell me, he was alien to the motives that drove me, and with the events that befell me, and no interview was further from his expectations than at the moment. His curiosity is written in his features, but this is not the time to satisfy his curiosity. The goal I am now thinking about is getting accommodation for Eliza Hadwin at this man's house. For this purpose it is my duty to describe, with simplicity and truth, the discomfort that currently surrounds it, and to tell all that has happened since my arrival.

I sensed that my story aroused her compassion, and I proceeded with a new spirit to portray the helplessness of this girl. The deaths of his father and sister left the farm's possessions for him. His gender and age disqualified him for being the overseer of the crop fields and threshing grounds; and there was no way left except to rent the land to others, and, and, taking his place in the family of a relative or friend, to live, as he probably did easily, out of rent. Meanwhile, his continuation in this house was equally useless and dangerous, and I insinuated my friend about the propriety of immediately moving him to his own house.