Literary Cadet And Rhode Island Statesman

MISCELLANY.

THE STRANGER GUEST.

"But who and what art thou,
Of foreign garb, and fearful brow."

The first time I visited Philadelphia was in the depth of an unusually cold winter, some fifteen or twenty years ago. The morning I left Albany, I recollect the weather was hazy, and there were some indications of a storm; these were at first disregarded—but I had not proceeded half a day's journey before it set in to snow; the wind arose from the northwest, and so intensely cold did the tempest come on that I was glad to seek a shelter in a small hut, half hid among the pine trees, and only discerned from the road by thin columns of smoke that ascended from the rude chimney which scarcely protruded itself through the roof. Humble as was this habitation, I was welcomed to share in the small comfort it afforded; and chose it rather than "bide the peltings of the pitiless storm without. I was welcomed, I say, for I had a slight acquaintance with the Huberts; I knew them as a family once in affluent circumstances, but by a fortune that was impenetrable as the mysteries of the tomb, a fate, the secret history of which was locked up in their own bosoms, reduced to a far deeper poverty than the "peasant knows—to a life of want and wo. Penury does not always touch the heart; and it was easy to read in a glance at the group that gathered round the blaze on that evening that the bosoms of the Huberts had felt deeper stabs than ever simple penury could give.

The cabin was rudely formed of logs, from between which the clay plastering here and there having fallen out, left large crevices; and one single room was all the dwelling contained. The furniture consisted of a couple of benches, an old stand, and a few wooden dishes. In none of these were to be seen the remains of that opulence of which I learned the Huberts once were the possessors, but it was found in their family attire, and the air still lingered about them. The old lady though negligently dressed, had about her those touches of taste and refinement which cannot deceive, and Ellen Hubert, though her cheeks were thin and pale, and her eyes heavy, perhaps with weeping, carried with her that grace of manner and expression that reminded me of a captive fairy in some desolate region.

She was young and fair; for sorrow, as if proud of its victims, only adds a more delicate and moving, and pathetic loveliness to beauty. As I gazed, first on her and then on the prattling cherub, that stood beside her, a child of but three or four years, I read, I thought, with too great a certainty, the cause of so much grief. The mother shone in every feature of the infant. But the next hour left me unsatisfied; for when the little one became the playmate of the melancholy girl I had heard her called; but when it played upon her lap, or caught her hand, or pressed its cheeks upon her snowy neck—such a gleam of joy seemed stealing from the recesses of her bosom and mantling her cheeks, that I could not but silently exclaim, there are no recollections of guilt associated with the being of the darling child; she loves, she adores it as an innocent mother,

The violence of the storm increasing as the long afternoon wore cheerlessly away, and when the shades of the evening approached, I withdrew from the rude fireside, but frequent sighs broke the silence that sealed every tongue; for finding my attempts to lead my hostess or her daughter into conversation on the subject in which I felt most interest, vain, I sat so long silent that my bosom caught a portion of the disease which was so evidently preying upon them, and with a sad and heavy heart took my seat at a window and looked out upon the forest. As they grew dark and gloomy every moment. The wind had died away, but the snow now fell in large heavy flakes; the sky looked more dense with clouds than before, and I was brooding over my misfortunes in being overtaken by such a storm, in such a place in the worst possible humour, when my eyes caught the form of a traveller, who, though well mounted on a large and beautiful steed, came slowly winding down the pathway from the road; evidently much fatigued with the journey he had made.

In better moods I should have been overjoyed at the idea of other and more cheerful company than my present for the night, but as I felt at the moment, I rather viewed the coming unknown as an intruder, about whom I was indifferent, and without saying a word, I gazed at him as he alighted, and throwing the bridle over the neck of his animal, approached the door. A loud rap was the first intimation the family had of the coming of a new visitor. The stranger asked for permission to remain in the house through the night, adding that he should give them no trouble, as he was provided with provisions and a blanket, and would lay on the floor; the request was granted, and having taken care of his horse, he entered the room; and without taking the least notice of any one, or saying a word, he sat himself down by the fire, shook the snow from his hat and dress, and dropped his cheeks upon his hands, as in a deep and solemn thought.

All was silent as before; the pine fire burned rather dimly, and I could not clearly discern the features of the stranger, who for at least an hour, sat fixed as a statue in his position, without I believe, at all observing me, or being conscious of the existence of any being but himself and our hostess within the room: and I had fallen in a half sleeping reverie, when I was aroused by a deep hollow groan, which issued from I knew not where. I shuddered, and drew nearer the fire. Mrs. Hubert, I observed, started from her seat, and walked the floor rapidly, while Ellen convulsively clasped her arms around the babe that lay slumbering in her lap, and pressed her cheek to its forehead, The stranger remained motionless, but again some voice as if from the bowels of the earth, sent up that hollow groan. I could not determine whence it came, and dared not ask, so agitated did the two females seem to be at the repeat; but it caught the ear of the traveller, who slowly raised his head, and asked in a calm voice, "who is sick?" The old lady clasped her hands and turned pale, as she endeavored to imitate the sound and replied that she felt unwell. There was a mystery in all this that was observed by the stranger; he turned to me and repeated the question. I shook my head in silence, and he again rested his forehead on his hand. Again and again in rapid succession, the noise was heard, it seemed to come from beneath the floor and the stranger as if electrified, started from his seat, and cried "for God's sake what means this? say madam, do not shudder—this mystery must be unveiled," then drawing from his bosom a pistol he seized with the other hand a blazing torch. "I will search the house"—said he "something smells of murder." "Merciful heaven!" screamed the elderly lady, "we are undone." "Undone?" we repeated in utter astonishment—"what means this?" The groan continued, and Mrs. Hubert falling upon the neck of her daughter, both were instantly dissolved in an agony of weeping.

Without noticing this the stranger led the search, and on examining the floor, some loose boards were discovered, which being removed revealed a dark cave beneath, and from it as from a sepulchre those sounds almost too full of anguish to be human, came; the stranger surveyed it, and then cautiously entered. On a couch of straw, at one corner of this dismal abode, we beheld a grey headed ghastly figure clothed in rags and exhibiting the very image of human wretchedness, stretched out at full length. He raised his dim eyes as the light approached him.—

"What, you have come at last," said he in a haggard tone; "well you are welcome!—the grave will be a more quiet, a less dreadful repose than this! I am Irvin Hubert!" and reached out his shrivelled hand to me; "you will not need cords'' continued he, "this frame is all feebleness and woe—I shall give you no trouble."
By this time Ellen and her mother had come down and I noticed, for the first time, the signs of trepidation steal over the stern features of the stranger, he withdrew with a shudder, and left us with the old man alone. I assisted them in bringing him up to the fire, by which the stranger had again seated himself, in his usual sombre mood, where we laid and bathed his face in tears.

It was a dreadful moment of inexplicable mystery; and as that lovely girl kissed his wan and withered cheek while her utterance was choaked with sobs. and Mrs. Hubert sat motionless at his feet, the stranger rose paced the room with folded arms, and an eye that rolled awfully on all around.

He was to me the most interesting object of the group. Though tall and robust his figure was handsome; his eyes were the keenest and most expressive I ever beheld, and his whole countenance and appearance impressed on my mind an idea of determined boldness, and decisive energy, and strength of frame and intellect which I had never imagined could be combined in one individual. My eyes were rivetted upon him; but what was my astonishment, when suddenly his face brightened up as with a transport of delight and approaching the weeping girl he knelt and took her hand. "Ellen Hubert." said he 'do you know me?'-The affrighted girl started at the touch, but now her fine eye met his.—He smiled and she exclaimed-'O my Henry! my Henry! my Henry!' and fell upon his bosom.

It was as the meeting of lovers in another world; he was the husband of her youth. You come from the grave,' said Ellen 'or where have you been— do you really exist as I see you, or am I wild?' I am Henry Hubert' replied he. 'I left my father's house three years ago, when you recollect you were absent at F--, strangely enough; I had cut myself, and walking at midnight discovered that the bandage had fallen off and that it was bleeding very fast.— I dressed and went to the river, intending to bathe it, as it felt inflamed and painful, and while in the act was seized by a gang of ruffians, robbed of my money, gagged and sent on board a small sloop, from which I never escaped until I was landed on an Island in the West Indies, destitute of every thing. Here I was impressed on board a ship of war, and taken to the East Indies, where I escaped, engaged in business, amply recovered my losses and returned a month ago, rich in property to my native city; but judge of my despair when I heard that my father had been condemned as a murderer, and that my family and wife were no more. Under these impressions I wandered thus far in search of some rude spot of earth where myself and my name might be buried in obscurity. This is my history—the rest you know."

"And it was of murdering you that your father was accused and condemned," said Mrs. Hubert. They brought witnesses who swore he had a violent disagreement with you on the evening you disappeared; your bed was stained with blood, your room floor was covered with it, and from it traces of blood were discovered down to the water side On this evidence and some other slight circumstances, your father was found guilty, and sentenced to death. He escaped from prison, and sought a refuge in his home, we abandoned property and friends, and that home for better concealment, and here, for nearly three years he has been the almost constant tenant of the den from which you have just taken him.

These are some of the outlines of one of the most extraordinary incidents I have ever met with. I have only to add what will be anticipated, the character of Mr. Hubert was restored to its original rank, and Henry and Ellen Hubert, one of the best of husbands and the most affectionate of wives, live to enjoy the society of each other, in affluent circumstances, in peace and happiness.