CHAPTER II.

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As the fowler spreads his snares for the unwary
bird, as the spider weaves his toils for the unconscious
fly, so, saith tradition, did the belles of the seventeenth
century entrap the harmless and unsuspecting
beaux. But Fortune be thanked, that this cruel
fashion, if ever it existed, has passed away, and that
not a lady now, in all this broad land, pretends to exercise
the art.

The commotion caused by the expected arrival of
the young patroon was far from being confined to the
family of Van Corlear. Many a plump Dutch maiden
in the neighborhood, and some even in the great city
adjacent, were calculating the chances against the
beautiful Gertrude, as they lingered, innocently enough,
at the labors of the toilet. None thought of Jessie,
nor did ever so treasonable an idea enter her guileless
breast as that of competition with the commanding
charms of her sister. She even looked forward with

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delight to the expected triumph of Gertrude, albeit it
was a stinted measure of kindness which she might
ever expect from the future lady of Kenterhook. But
her good nature seemed, for once, to be fairly reciprocated.
Gertrude became suddenly very kind and
considerate toward her, and in the excess of her solicitude,
began even to discover symptoms of impaired
health in the bright blue eyes and ruby lips of her sister.
A little change of air, and a respite from domestic
duties, was clearly requisite for so decided an invalid,
and inasmuch as old Aunt Schermerhorn, who
resided in the adjacent city, had long been importuning
her for a visit, Gertrude advised that the invitation
should at once be accepted. Doubting and wondering
much, Jessie was still too ingenuous for suspicion,
and too much overjoyed at the prospect of the
proposed visit to analyze motives. Her parents' permission
was accordingly obtained, and she was posted
off without further ceremony. But while the sagacious
Gertrude had taken such pains to get rid of
internal enemies, she found herself suddenly subjected
to an unexpected attack from without. There
were in the immediate neighborhood of the Van

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Corlears, three single sisters, not youthful, to whom some
mischievous wag had given the appellation of “the
fates”—a name which, unfortunately for them, proved
as adhesive as diachylum. They were daughters of
old Baltus Van Dingle, a man half as rich as the patroon
himself, and they now became suddenly gracious
to Gertrude, and made her some long-deferred
visits, with many a condescending reason for their
delay. Not the least curiosity had they about the
expected guests, and when the subject was casually
mentioned, they were jointly and severally surprised
beyond all measure. The figures of two of these ladies
belonged to the style of beauty known as the squabby,
and their faces, round as a dumpling, had an expression
not entirely dissimilar to that viand. The
youngest—Eve by name—was tall and not a little
lank, with very long and very yellow ringlets, which
were taught to twine, in many a golden convolution,
adown her neck. Her eyes were, in color, of an unexceptionable
pea-green, but they were unfortunately
somewhat at variance, and her nasal organ, a little
upturned, seemed ever bent on learning the cause of
the difficulty. If, however, the visual organs of Miss

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Eve were ill-arranged, she was favored with a corresponding
mental obliquity which prevented her
from discovering the magnitude of the defect. One
eye, she argued to herself, was certainly true, and if
the other manifested a disposition to disclaim companionship
with its fellow, the aberration was too
slight to attract attention. When it is further said
that Miss Van Dingle's brow was always a little corrugated,
probably by an ineffectual effort to keep the
refractory member in position, a more adequate portraiture
of this lady will be presented. But there is
a wonderfully transforming power in the alembic of a
vivid imagination, and, by its aid, Eve had learned to
believe herself quite handsome, though certainly, as
she admitted to herself that very morning, while unpinning
her sixteenth blazing curl at the mirror—certainly
of a different style of beauty from either of the
Misses Van Corlear. The exploring party tarried
long enough to glean the information for which expressly
they had set out, and then took their leave
with some discouraging presentiments; but they had
long been taught the potency of gold, and possessing

[figure description] Page 019.[end figure description]

so powerful an auxiliary, they did not altogether
despair.

Time rolled on. The little obstinate weather-cocks,
which had so long pointed pertinaciously to the south,
suddenly veered about, and a fresh northerly breeze
came sweeping down the river. On the wings of the
wind therefore, if not on the wings of love, came the
gallant young Livingston, all unconscious of the gins
and pitfalls which were set for his capture. Overjoyed
was Burley Van Corlear, delighted was his worthy
spouse, and as glad as propriety would permit was
the more discreet Gertrude, at the arrival of the
guests. So boisterous in his merriment was the old
patroon, and so many were the alderman's words of
welcome, that both, in unison with the good dame,
poured forth a long, continuous, and commingled
stream of double and twisted words, to which none
made the least pretence of listening or reply.

But if there was an uproar of welcome within the
hospitable house, there was “confusion worse confounded”
without. The well-packed wagon, which
had transported the guests from the city, where the
sloop had found moorings, was darkened by a cloud

[figure description] Page 020.[end figure description]

of jabbering negroes of every age and size, making
the air ring with their merriment, as they clambered
upon the sides and wheels of the vehicle, and eagerly
assisted to discharge its contents. Of these, while the
greater part belonged to Van Corlear, a few had been
attracted by the commotion from the neighboring
farm-houses, and two, a little more staid and sober,
yet grinning broadly, were servants of the patroon,
rejoicing in the euphonious names of Josh and Squash.
These last were themselves the objects of no small
degree of admiration to their less favored brethren;
nor did the horses, well-fed and shining, which were
their especial care, fail to attract their share of attention,
for restive and champing, the noble steeds manifested
their delight at regaining the use of faculties,
of which, on sloopboard, they had been so long restrained.
The travellers, it will be seen, had judiciously
provided themselves with the means of returning
home by land, if their more unstable highway
should become unnavigable before their visit was
brought to a close.

Great was the surprise of Livingston and Miss Van
Corlear on being introduced to each other; for

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instead of the fat, dumpy, and peony-faced girl
of Harry's imagination, he met an elegant and
graceful lady, while she, anticipating the awkward
salute of a bashful youth, found herself confronted by
a gentleman, courtly, refined, and self-possessed.

It will be unnecessary to dwell at any length upon
the events of the few succeeding weeks. Miss Van
Corlear had a clear field, and it would have been
strange indeed, if, without a competitor, she could not
have gained the winning-post. Harry was a student,
fond of books, and fond of nature. Of human nature
he was not the best judge in the world, and least of
all, of that variety designated by bachelor Oldbuck as
“woman-kind.” He was a Dutchman, and rather
phlegmatic. But there was no resisting the perpetual
recurrence of one beautiful face, the continuous
harmony of one gentle and melodious voice. His
books were gradually laid aside, his walks were suspended,
his favorite steed, unmounted, stood stamping
idly in the stable, turning his graceful neck, wistfully
and oft, to look for the master that came no more.
Sitting at Gertrude's side, and telling her tales of the
olden world, leaning over her harp as she warbled the

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airs which he had taught her, reading aloud from her
favorite authors, these became now the more prominent
features in Harry's daily life. The fountain of
his feelings had burst its icy surface, and like his native
Hudson, released from its wintry chains, revealed
a strong, deep, rapid current beneath. Harry was
in love. In vain did the Misses Van Dingle, Gothlike,
make a second irruption upon the Van Corlears.
The ancient family carriage, with its fat, glossy steeds,
and its grinning black driver, in vain proclaimed the
aristocratic rank of the dumpling faces and the long
yellow curls. Nature's aristocracy carried it clear,
against the broad acres of Van Dingle; and if the
visit of “the fates” had any effect, it was to enhance,
by contrast, the charms of Gertrude, and thus to hasten
the catastrophe which they would have averted.
Harry's fate was nearer at home. Christmas came
not, ere Gertrude Van Corlear, the cold, calculating,
ambitious Gertrude, was affianced to the young patroon
as his future bride.

CHAPTER III.

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The Christmas Holidays, which brought home
every member of the family, never drew to paternal
doors a more frank, generous, whole-souled, and sound-hearted
youth, than Seth Van Corlear. Freshly
released from academic restraint, he came bounding
into the house like a fire-ball, his round red face blazing
with excitement, and his large blue eyes sparkling
with joy. Staying for but hasty salutations, he danced
off with a little Van Corlear in each hand, to see the
horses, the cows, the pigs and the poultry, and as if he
had but one minute's vacation instead of three weeks,
was back again in a twinkling, dashing through every
room in the house, catching hold of everybody, and
finally coming to a stand, only to shout long and
loudly for Jessie. Great was his surprise and grief to
learn that his favorite sister was absent at such a time.
Although himself within his minority, he was still two
years the senior of Jessie, and considered himself in

[figure description] Page 024.[end figure description]

some degree the guardian of her interests, as he had
been in boyhood her champion and defender. If his
affection for her was ever full and overflowing, it was
perhaps owing partly to the fact that its channel in
another direction had been long since obstructed.
His monitor, his task mistress, the informant against
his boyish peccadilloes—these were the unfavorable
lights in which Memory ever placed his elder sister,
and there had been but little in the deportment of her
later years to regain the fraternal affection which had
been so early estranged. That she had been in some
way the cause of Jessie's absence, was a suspicion
which at once forced itself upon his mind with all the
strength of conviction. Bitter and burning, therefore,
was his shame for Gertrude, but more bitter and more
burning was his indignation. His dear, his gentle, his
pretty Jessie, whom, in sportive mood, he had so often
styled the future bride of Kenterhook, had been spirited
away by a jealous sister, at the very moment
when all his brilliant visions in her behalf might have
been realized. And might they not yet? Learning
for the first time to dissemble his thoughts and feelings,
he became a vigilant observer of Livingston and

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Gertrude. But there was as yet no openly avowed
engagement of the lovers, and there was but little to
mark the intimate nature of their relation. Seth, indeed,
saw nothing. In ecstacies with the belief that
all was yet safe, he took every occasion adroitly and
with seeming inadvertence to sound the praises of his
absent favorite, and within a few days gained the
parental permission to terminate her exile.

Flitting across the crackling snow, behind two noble
steeds, whose hot breath smokes upon the air,
behold him now hastening to the city, his merry
sleigh-bells chiming with the music of his sanguine
heart. Hark to that last emphatic crack of his
whip, as dashing gallantly up, he stops suddenly at
old Aunt Schermerhorn's well remembered door; and
see where, bounding down the steps, across the side-walk,
and into the very sleigh, Jessie throws her arms
about his neck, her warm curls brushing his frosted
cheek, while the frighted steeds start and stand
trembling at a sound that minds them of the falling
thong. Short was the visit of the restless youth. In
a few brief hours, with Jessie at his side, cloaked and
muffed and tippeted well nigh to suffocation, he was

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starting for home, under a perfect shower of prudential
admonitions from a spare, spectacled old dame at
the door, who foresaw a whole catalogue of accidents
in a two miles drive across the snow. Not a whisper,
however, did he breathe into his sister's ear on the
subject which lay so near his heart. He descanted,
indeed, upon the many merits of Livingston, and described
his person and his manners, and when his
laughing listener, utterly thoughtless of self, hinted
her suspicions, and indeed her hopes, in regard to Gertrude
and her guest, Seth did not hesitate to scout the
idea as entirely unfounded. Not a little astonished at
this, Jessie became perhaps a shade more thoughtful
during the remaining part of their ride; but she
would not own to herself, and she would have died at
the stake before she would have confessed to another,
the thoughts which had thus been forced upon her
mind. Her brother's conduct, his praises of Livingston,
his decrial of Gertrude, she now understood
them all, and her heart fluttered until she feared that
Seth would hear its pulsations. Cordial indeed was
her reception at home, and from no one more so, than
from the good old patroon, who chided her roundly

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for her prolonged absence. As for Livingston, in
every word, in every look did he betray his admiration
of the beautiful little fairy. It is true that he
looked upon her as a sister, but there was a natural
empressement in his manner when addressing a lady,
of which he was unaware. Although his engagement
to Gertrude was unknown in the family, he never for
a moment doubted that she had confided the secret to
her sister. But Gertrude had no confidants, and, ever
selfish and unfeeling, she either did not notice Jessie's
danger, or noticed it only to count on her own approaching
triumph. As the good-natured but blundering
zeal of Seth had originated, so did it continue
to foster an error which daily became more portentous.
But let us not dwell upon the painful particulars
that mark the yielding up of fresh, pure, generous
affections, in response to the misunderstood kindness
of a heart equally noble and equally pure.

Christmas came, and a merry Christmas it was. It
was cold without, and the snow lay deep upon the
ground, and a million of feathery flakes were sporting
leisurely in the air, whether falling or rising the
eye could scarcely tell. It was cold without, but the

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Christmas fire, built at dawn, was blazing cheerily
within, where, deposited deep in the capacious chimney,
a section of a centennial oak upheld the glowing,
crackling, roaring pile. The little folks, half clad, or
with their garments tucked beneath their arms, were
rushing gleefully from their rooms to gain their plethoric
stockings, and gloat over the now disgorged treasures,
which had floated, night-long, before their imaginations,
with all the flitting colors of the kaleidoscope.
And firmly faithful in their invisible friend, the
good, old, undying Santa Claus, they were next seen
eagerly searching for his traces on the chimney side, or
rushing, with a shout, to see the foot-prints of his tiny
steeds upon the roof, which, alas, the falling snow had
already effaced. Nor were they alone happy. Joy
sat on every countenance, and the “Merry Christmas”
salutation rang from every quarter, as the family,
assembled early in the breakfast-room, discussed the
past, or planned approaching festivities. There, towering
on the old misshapen sideboard, rose the huge
pile of cakes, embossed with strange devices, awaiting
the calls of troops of rosy-cheeked children from
abroad. There was a jingling, too, of many sixpences

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in the capacious pockets of the patroon, who looked
eagerly and often from the windows, and wondered
why the little rogues did not come. He had not long,
however, to wait, for the first detachment of light
infantry, as he loved to call them, was early on its
way. Ploughing, knee-deep, through the snow, their
wild laughter ringing through the clear cold air, as
each strove to be foremost, bursting headlong into
the house, with blazing cheeks and frosted locks
and large sparkling eyes, thus did they come, a
blithesome and a joyous band; and soon, laden with
their anticipated gifts, hastened away to storm
some other citadel, equally well prepared for the
expected attack.

The holidays were marked, as usual, by a joyous
round of wintry amusements. At the top and the
bottom, and in the midst of every scheme of merriment
and fun, the life of every party, and the favorite
of all, save one, was Seth. But brief was his dream
of delight. The delusion into which he had run, and
which he had imparted to his ingenuous sister, could
not, fortunately, be of long continuance. Words may
not paint the deep mortification of Jessie, her self

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reproach, her bitter, burning grief, when the fatal truth
became apparent. Duplicity, she knew, formed no
part of Livingston's character, and she readily perceived
the mistake under which he had acted. But if
her anguish was at first severe, it was in no small degree
alleviated by the belief, nay the certainty, that
he had never suspected her sentiments. This conviction,
indeed, was the removal of a mountain-like
weight from her mind. She was spared that last
dreadful blow to a sensitive and modest maiden, the
consciousness that one who loved her not, knew himself
to be the object of her regard. But Jessie did not
pine. Every sentiment of duty, and of self-respect,
bade her forget her transient error, and conceal its
traces from others. Seth alone suspected the truth
and although his very efforts to seem unconscious of it,
betrayed his thoughts to his sister, what did she care
for dear kind Seth? Not from him would she have
feared censure or doubt, had she been as deserving of
these as she was of the smiles of Heaven, which even
then, through the clouds that enveloped her, were resting
upon her guileless heart.

And what during all this time were the thoughts

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and feelings of Gertrude. Still selfish, proud, and
aspiring, suspicious of Jessie, scornful to Seth, and but
simulating a regard for him whose love for her was
only less than adoration, Gertrude Van Corlear was
prepared to plight, before the altar of Truth, a false
and perjured faith. Ah! it is a sad thing to behold a
bright and beautiful spirit, severing the golden links
that connect it with Infinite Beneficence, and descending
by the acquired gravity of earthly passions, from
even the slight moral elevation of poor human nature.

But the time for the departure of the guests drew
nigh, and the betrothal of Harry and Gertrude was
at length openly avowed. It met with the full approbation
of parents and uncles, and the cause was duly
set down in Hymen's calendar for the ensuing May,
the intervening time being considered requisite for the
bride elect to make her multitudinous arrangements.
Ever cheerful, the old patroon was in ecstasies at a
result which he had long secretly anticipated; he had
a good word for all, and to the delighted children he
promised another round of holidays in the spring.
“As for our pretty bridesmaid,” said the garrulous
old man, seizing the slightly tremulous and wax-like

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hand of Jessie, “the next ship shall carry orders for
a dress of pearly satin for her, that a princess might
be proud to wear.” Hurried thanks, and a sunny
smile, rewarded the old man's kindness, but whiter
than the promised robe turned Jessie.

Harry and Seth had formed an intimacy which
promised perpetuity, and had spent many a merry
hour together in the woodland, scouring over “brake,
bush and brier,” in pursuit of the game, which then
abounded in regions that are now well nigh central
of the great metropolis. Seth had meanwhile found
many an opportunity to recount the merits of his pet,
but maintained a pertinacious silence whenever the
young patroon hinted at the more magnificent charms
of her sister. The young friends parted with regret,
but with the anticipation of many a merry day's sport
together in the forests of Kenterhook. Yet pleasing
as were those hopes, there was nothing that could
compensate Seth for his bitter disappointment. He
knew the ungentle temper of his elder sister too well
to expect anything like happiness for his friend from
the anticipated union, and he grieved alike for Harry,
for Jessie, and for himself. Why was it, he vainly

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asked, as the departing guests faded from his sight,
why was it, when the elements of happiness might
have been so easily mingled for each, that the bitter
and brimming cup of grief was to be substituted in
its stead?

The vessel in which the visitors had journeyed to
the city had, of course, long since returned, and the
river was closed with ice. They returned in the
family carriage which they had brought with them,
taking advantage of the January thaw for that purpose,
which then, as now, occurred with sufficient
uniformity to be a matter of almost accurate calculation.

CHAPTER IV.

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The imperious Gertrude, relieved from the restraint
imposed by the immediate presence of Livingston, no
longer set limits to her pride. Her sister had daily
to bear some new variety of contumely, and as for
poor Seth, his would have been a slight discernment
indeed, if he had not read in every glance that encountered
him from the bride elect, the simple mental
element of contempt. In vain did his generous spirit
fret and chafe to contemplate the sumptuous preparations
which were making for the approaching nuptials.
In vain did he quarrel with Jessie for lending so willing
a hand in furtherance of a match, which, wherever
it may have originated, he stoutly contended was
never made in Heaven. Old Burley meanwhile
groaned under the daily exactions levied upon his
purse, but consoled himself for his diminishing guilders,
by the rising honors of his family.

“Donner and blitzen, Getty!” would the old man

[figure description] Page 035.[end figure description]

exclaim, his looks really expressing the last degree of
alarm, “her you come again for money?”

But Getty condescended to no explanations; but
with the slightest perceptible smile, and not the slightest
curl of a scornful lip, replied only that she must
have it. And have it she did, no matter what denials
or privations it occasioned the less distinguished
members of the family. The alderman's purse was,
indeed, none of the longest, and he began to look
forward with some anxiety to the time when he
should get so expensive a piece of property off his
hands.

But Spring, beauteous Spring, began to give token
of her approach. The venturous red-breast was her
earliest herald; the tiny blue-bird soon followed in
its path; the swallow began to caracole through the
air; and the little daisy, wakened, perhaps, by their
voices, peeped timidly from the earth. Coquettish
April came, like her fickler type, dispensing alternating
smiles and frowns, now making bright skies the
prelude to a storm, now threatening wrathful gusts,
only to burst forth in sunlight, or dissolve in tears.

“Thirty days later from Albany,” were the

[figure description] Page 036.[end figure description]

eye-catching words, paraded at column-head of a digny,
diminutive newspaper, issued at this period; and following
this startling announcement was a long account
of an overland express, two months from Oswego,
through the Genesee country, and giving tidings of the
pending troubles with the French. But the vessel
which brought this important intelligence, and which
now lay at the wharf, thronged by the curious, was the
bearer also of despatches from Kenterhook, where it
had put in for provisions and repairs. The great
family seal of General Van Ness was easily recognized
upon the neat-looking packet which was put
into Burley's hands, addressed to “Ye Honorable Burleigh
Van Corlear, whilom Alderman of New York.”

“Reet it again,” said the old man, as Seth announced
the pompous superscription.

Seth gravely repeated the address.

“Dat ish very goot,” said Burley, lowering his
pipe, after a moment's reflection; “dush he say anything
elsh?”

Seth proceeded to open the missive, and found
something else within decidedly more to the point,
that is to say, that the great patroon and his nephew

[figure description] Page 037.[end figure description]

were about to embark for the city, and were to be
looked for from the first to the fifteenth of May inclusive.
But the letter also told of the serious indisposition
of the general, and that he would not venture
upon the voyage but for the advantage afforded by
the vicinity of the city in procuring medical advice.
This was really afflicting news to Van Corlear and
his kind-hearted vrow, the latter of whom, however,
“warranted” that she could cure him. The poor
old man, she said, knew nothing about coddling himself;
the doctors might be hanged, as she had known
more than one to be in her day, and she began to
enumerate a list of herbs on hand, of which one
would be certain to cure him, if another failed,
although, to be sure, she did not yet know whether
his disease was the gout, the measles, or St. Vitus's
dance. But the letter proceeded to say that the
patroon desired the wedding to take place as soon
after his arrival as possible, for he thought, benevolent
old man, that the very sight of so much joy
would infuse new life into his veins.

They came. It was on one of the brightest mornings
in May that the manly and noble-looking

[figure description] Page 038.[end figure description]

Livingston might have been seen, with earnest solicitude,
assisting his feeble relative to alight from a carriage
at Van Corlear's door. No noisy salutations now welcomed
his approach. The family, indeed, thronged
to the carriage, anxious to learn how much to hope
or fear in his behalf; but he who had seen the good
dame rush smilingly out, and catching a distant
glimpse of the invalid's face, stop midway, and return
silently to the house, with her apron at her eyes,
would have needed little other information than that
simple gesture. But if his friends looked sad, the
patroon himself was still merry. His unfavorable
appearance, indeed, was partly owing to the fatigues
of travel, and after a little rest, and some of the good
vrow's doses, and the still better medicine for him,
of smiling faces and cheerful words on every side,
he began to exhibit a returning vitality that gave
promise of better things. The carriage, which had
approached the door with a slow and hearse-like
motion, was immediately seen dashing away at a
fearful speed, for Seth was within, despatched express
by Livingston for the city's most eminent
physician. Nor was Doctor Schwackhammer tardy

[figure description] Page 039.[end figure description]

in obeying the summons to the bedside of the distinguished
patient, who had travelled so far to obtain
the benefit of his advice. He was an old practitioner,
to whom half of the existing population of the island
had been indebted for assistance at quite too early a
period of their lives to admit of their appreciating
the favor, and to whom many of their cotemporaries
were under unspeakable obligations for a somewhat
hasty exodus from this troublesome world. The
doctor was older even than the patroon, and he
consequently saw no evidence of natural decay in
his patient. There was no breaking up of the constitution,
not a bit of it. There was a little of one
disease, and a slight touch of another, and some
symptoms of a third, but altogether the eminent
physician thought he would be a great deal better
on the next day, provided he had a good night's rest,
and had no bad turns. And so he was. The hushed
voices of the children were changed, on the morrow,
to gleeful tones, and merriment was again the order
of the day. The wedding was now in every mouth,
and was arranged for the first of the ensuing week.

Harry Livingston was a happy man. His own

[figure description] Page 040.[end figure description]

heart was full of all noble emotions, and he easily
discovered the same qualities in one to whom they
were as foreign as flowers to the iceberg. There
was indeed a winning beauty in the expression of
Gertrude's soft, dark eyes, as they rested upon her
fascinated lover, and a thrush-like melody in the tone
of her voice, although one might have taken many a
safer wager, than that she was not at those very
moments calculating how soon it would be prudent
to broach the subject of a fashionable house in town.

“You will surely return with us,” said Livingston,
addressing Jessie, “and aid to cheer up our poor
uncle. The magnificent scenery of the river, of
which you have so often heard, ought, of itself, to be
a sufficient inducement.”

Jessie hesitated to reply, but the considerate Gertrude
came to her relief. “I fear that dear sister,”
she said, “can hardly be spared from home; it would
be indeed cruel to leave our kind parents to the tender
mercies of Seth, and the other children.”

“Let Seth also go with us,” rejoined Harry; “he
will find abundance of game in our forests, of every
variety; even deer and moose are not scarce.”

[figure description] Page 041.[end figure description]

“Seth's vagrant propensities are already sufficiently
developed, I fear,” was Gertrude's reply,
“and need no such encouragement; besides which,
he will certainly be needed at home.”

Seth heard this conversation, and for once his ready
smile took somewhat of a hyenal cast. His spirits
had gone up to fever heat on the mention of the deer
and moose, and had sunk as suddenly to zero, under
the cold-water treatment of his sister. But he was
not quick at repartee, and he quietly swallowed the
affront, for the amiable Gertrude had taught him to
perform some remarkable feats in that kind of deglutition.
Livingston continued to urge his wishes in
regard to Jessie, confident that her society would be
invaluable to his uncle; but the subject was postponed
for future consideration.

The great day came. The patroon's continued illness
had in some measure frustrated the design of
having a large party; but there were such quantities
of good things prepared to be eaten and drunk, and
carried away, that it was absolutely necessary to have
somebody come. There were some relations, too,
whom it would not do to slight. A few were

[figure description] Page 042.[end figure description]

therefore invited from fear and a few from affection. The
Van Dingles were asked out of spite. They came,
too, from the same laudable motive, for if anybody
could pick flaws, and make surmises, and hint dark
inuendos of shadowy suspicions, it was “the fates.”
The bride might look to her dress, for if there was a
crease in the flowing satin, the world would know it.
But Gertrude was above criticism both in person and
apparel, and that she herself was not unconscious of
this fact her deportment very plainly proclaimed.
Jessie, too, who had donned the magnificent robe
which the patroon, mindful of his promise, had presented
to her, Jessie was faultless in her beauty. Not
lynx-eyed malice itself could have whispered aught
against the perfect charms of the little Houri. The
budding moss-rose, the daisy, the dew-drop, the sunbeam,
all things bright and beautiful in nature, were
emblems of Jessie. So at least thought Harmon Van
Dingle, a wilted bachelor brother of the fates, who,
his own word for it, had been “turned of thirty”
any time within the last fifteen years, and who had
begun seriously to contemplate the idea of sharing his
future patrimony with the pretty bridesmaid.

[figure description] Page 043.[end figure description]

Everybody knows that Cupid follows in the train of Hymen
to select new victims. Ill-natured people might say,
indeed, that part of his errand is to reclaim the darts
which he had implanted in the breasts of the married
pair, and for which they would have no further use.
At any rate, the little archer was present on this occasion,
fully equipped, and his shafts flew in more directions
than one; for the youngest Miss Van Dingle was
observed to gaze tenderly and oft at the ruddy cheeks
of Seth, who was unfortunately too busily engaged in
looking daggers at a costly necklace of the bride
elect, to observe his conquest. For Gertrude was
already present. There was no parade of an imposing
entrée of the bridal party, with the rustling of silks
and a gale of perfumery. Quietly awaiting the arrival
of the clergyman, who made it a point of dignity
to be a few minutes behind his time, the family and
visitors were seated about the room, chatting as yet
with a little restraint. In a large easy chair, eligibly
posted to command a view of the ceremony, sat the
patroon. He was wan of face, but his bright beaming
eye seemed to give token of returning health. If
there had been any limit to his stock of smiles and

[figure description] Page 044.[end figure description]

good wishes, they would have been long ago expended;
but the fountain was inexhaustible, and poured
forth its generous streams as freshly as ever. His
eyes rested frequently with a patriarchal expression
upon Harry and Gertrude, but occasionally strayed
past them, through an open window beyond, and onward
to the cloudless skies. There were noiseless
motions, too, of his lips, and a calm assurance on his
face, which spoke of hopes and communings far away
from earth.

The clergyman was at length announced, and reannounced,
alas, in the sudden pallor of poor Jessie's
face. Giddy and faint, her heart flutters and stands
still, and starts again with a labored and violent
motion. One eye only observes her distress, and
turns hastily away. Ah, unhappy Seth! these are
thy doings. But she soon became calm, the color returned
to her cheeks, and she faltered no more. There
was a little further delay, and then the clergyman
arose, and the bride and the groom, and Seth and
Jessie at their side, and a silence deep and breathless
prevailed. Deep and breathless, and broken only by
the chirp of the swallow, as he darted past the open

[figure description] Page 045.[end figure description]

window, and the hum of the noisy bee, loitering
among the flowering vines on the porch. But at this
moment, a faint scream issued from the lips of Jessie,
and darting past the priest, she knelt at the old patroon's
chair, and caught his hand within her own.
His head had dropped upon his chest, his eyes were
quietly closed, and his spirit was in Heaven.

CHAPTER V.

[figure description] Page 046.[end figure description]

May had passed away, with her early flowers, and
June began to tinge with a deeper green the forests
and the fields. The blossoms of Spring had fallen,
and the reddening cheeks of the cherries, those first
rich fruits of the year, told that the warm breath of
Summer was playing among the trees. All things
were as blithe and beautiful without, as if the wings
of the angel of Death had never overshadowed the
land, or rather, as if the spirits of the good departed
from their earthly frames, only to diffuse themselves
among the birds, the sunlight, and the flowers. In a
small but handsomely furnished room in the mansion
of the late General Van Ness, gazing through an open
window at the beautiful scenery without, sat Seth Van
Corlear. Before him, around him, and on every side,
were books; shelves lined with books, extended half
way around the room, and books, maps, and papers
lay strewn about the floor. Seth was usually but little

[figure description] Page 047.[end figure description]

fond of retirement, and seemed scarcely at home, seated
thus in the study of Livingston, at whose request
he had gone to Kenterhook to take a general superintendence
of affairs during the absence of its new proprietor.
The heir, who had been so suddenly transformed
from a dependent to a millionaire, had resolved
not to return to his estates until the ensuing autumn,
when the nuptials, which had been so sadly broken
off, were to be celebrated, and he might bring back
smiles and joy to his now desolate house. The family
vault of the Van Nesses was in the city of New York,
and there the remains of the late patroon had been
deposited. He had left no will, because without it,
the law itself devolved his large property upon his
nephew, who was his only near relation.

Seth spent a portion of his time in visiting some of
the nearer tenantry, and occasionally making an excursion
into the interior to call some remote delinquent
to account. Of amusement he was in no lack,
for the forests on every side were alive with game,
and the antlers of many a noble stag, posted conspicuously
about the room, proclaimed his prowess in the
chase. But latterly he had seemed more disposed to

[figure description] Page 048.[end figure description]

quietude and reflection, and he would sit for hours in
the study, gazing out of the window, with an unheeded
book open before him, and with a sad and
half-angry expression upon his face. But Seth's eyes
no longer rest upon the distant river, nor on the more
distant hills, nor on the high-piled snowy clouds floating
buoyantly above them. He is looking now upon
eyes that seem to return his gaze, from within a large
gilded frame on the opposite side of the room. It is
a portrait of the late patroon, and at its side, in smaller
compass, is a likeness, also, of the blooming lad of
fourteen, who ten years before had left the paternal
roof, never to return. He had been sent abroad, as
Livingston subsequently was, for the completion of
his education, and after four years of absence, had embarked
for home in a vessel which was soon after
totally wrecked. The particulars of his fate were not
known by his relations, for although the late patroon
was supposed to have had minute information of all
the facts, the subject was one, doubtless by reason of
its exceedingly painful interest, on which he seldom
spoke.

Long and thoughtfully did Seth gaze at the

[figure description] Page 049.[end figure description]

pictures; frowns gathered upon his brow, and smiles
succeeded, and his bright blue eyes now flashed with
merriment, and now grew serious in doubt. Anon he
started suddenly from his chair and rapidly traversed
the room, uttering disjointed sentences, and occasionally
stopping before the portraits and looking up as if
he expected a reply. More boisterous still became
Seth. His red face grew redder, he walked the room
more rapidly, he rubbed his large hands together, and
finally brought one of them down upon his leg with a
slap that made the very windows tremble. He next
proceeded deliberately to take the dimensions of the
smaller frame, and having committed them to writing,
he left the house. When he next returned to the
study, he brought with him a shallow wooden case,
opening with hinges, and secured with a lock and
key. In this he carefully deposited the portrait of the
lad, locked it, pocketed the key, and again sat down
to reflect. On the next day, he announced to the surprised
domestics, that he was about leaving home, for
an absence of ten or twelve days; and many a secret
conclave was held among the sable gentry to discuss
his destination. They could make nothing of it,

[figure description] Page 050.[end figure description]

however, excepting that he must be going clear up to the
great city of Albany, a place which, although less
than thirty miles distant, was to the oldest of them an
object of faith rather than of sight. The best horses and
the best wagon were, however, prepared with great
alacrity for the momentous expedition, and old Aunt
Dinah, fearful of famine by the way, made her appearance
at the moment of starting, laden with a large
and snugly packed basket of provisions. “It's ony a
bite,” she gravely replied to Seth's remonstrances,
meaning thereby, as appeared on future inspection,
three several hams, half a score of mince pies, and
cakes untold. Seth had succeeded in transferring his
mysterious looking box to the wagon without observation,
and had secured the study from any intrusion during
his absence, lest the portrait should be missed.
Whistling and singing, chirruping to the horses, and occasionally
shouting to fright some distant crow from his
perch, or scare the scampering squirrel to its nest, he
dashed merrily along through the still and echoing
forest. His course was northward, and his immediate
destination, as had been rightly conjectured, was Albany.
In this venerable Dutch city resided several

[figure description] Page 051.[end figure description]

families distantly connected with the late patroon,
whom he did not hesitate to visit. That he was a
Van Corlear, was a sufficient introduction for him
everywhere among the friendly mynheers; but Seth
was not disposed to trespass long upon the hospitalities
of any. In vain did the buxom maidens dart their sly
glances at his sunny face, and vainly did their more
worldly mothers hint at munificent dowries, with the
brindled cow thrown in. Seth was proof against all
such gentle blandishments. His chief attention, on the
contrary, seemed given to the grown-up sons of the family.
With these he took pains to win favor, and while
he praised the horses and the sweet-hearts which divided
their affection, he looked narrowly into their faces,
and watched closely their deportment. From these
interviews, he would go directly to his wagon, unlock
his carefully concealed casket, and gaze long and earnestly
at the treasure within. Thus did he visit and
inspect all the families in the city, who claimed any
consanguinity, however remote, with the late patroon,
but from his last examination, as from his first, he
turned away with a saddened and disappointed air.
Coarse features and coarser frames, white heads, thick

[figure description] Page 052.[end figure description]

necks and bandy legs—these were among the pleasing
reminiscences of his new-found friends, which floated
continually before his mind. He had not yet learned
that remarkable physiological fact, that in the Dutch
races, the family beauty and grace, like the family
plate, all descend in the female line. But on more
minute inquiry, he heard that there was still another
family, bearing the name of Van Ness, living far up
toward the Champlain country, which last named
region was then generally supposed to be the territory
lying immediately around the North Pole. Their
place of residence was some twenty miles north of
the ancient town of Schagticoke, a name which, however
barbarous to the outside Yankees, is dear to
many a Dutch ear. The polar Van Ness, too, was said
to be a very near relation of the late general, their
fathers having been first cousins.

Nothing daunted by the magnitude of the journey,
young Van Corlear bade his Albanian friends farewell,
and without informing them of his course, crossed to
the eastern side of the river, and struck out boldly
into the northern wilderness. His winding road, but
half redeemed from the surrounding wilds, led through

[figure description] Page 053.[end figure description]

primeval forests dark and tangled, where now, rivalling
the modern capital, and a very thorn in her side,
stands the beauteous city of Troy, well worthy of her
classic name, and where long Lansingburgh out-stretched,
adorns the river's side. Opposite to Half
Moon Point, he paused awhile to witness the confluence
of the mighty Mohawk with its northern sister,
and to meditate upon the unrevealed mysteries of that
far western world, through which its silvery tide had
rolled. With what an air of life and freshness did it
come, that bright and sparkling flood, alive with the
impetus of its leap at the cataract of the Cahoes, and
singing its wild song of freedom, and its lays of forest
chivalry and love. There were curling columns of
smoke that told of wigwam life upon the point,
which overlooked those mighty rivers, where now a
dreamy spell-bound town exists, like some enchanted
city of the Past, where men grow gray in the simplicity
of childhood, and are disbelievers in the progress
of the age.

Omitting a record of the perils which beset the
solitary traveller, let us see him next, again a welcome
guest in a hospitable family, of which, until the

[figure description] Page 054.[end figure description]

preceding day, he had never so much as heard. His
hopes, whatever they were, revived as he beheld the
multitudinous progeny that surrounded the hearth—
aye, the house, and the barn, for that matter—of Bartholomew
Jacobus Van Ness. As before, however,
his attention was chiefly bestowed upon the young
men of the family, of whom there were not a few,
and more and more did his spirits rise, as he conversed
severally with these, and still made his mysterious
visits to his concealed picture. But he learned, on
inquiry, that there was yet one whom he had not seen.
This was Derick, the eldest of the sons, who was absent
on a hunting excursion; and Seth, having inquired
the direction he had taken, immediately set out in pursuit.
He was not long in coming up with the sportsman,
the very first glance of whom made his merry
eyes sparkle with delight. He was tall, well-formed,
and graceful in his deportment, presenting a striking
contrast to his obese and awkward cousins. But on
a sufficiently near approach to look into the countenance
of the young Van Ness, Seth's ecstasy no
longer knew any bounds. His smiles deepened into
a grin, as he first stared silently in the stranger's face

[figure description] Page 055.[end figure description]

and then proceeded to dance around him and inspect
him on every side. Derick gazed with a droll and
puzzled look at his visiter, who, still completely abstracted,
was coolly proceeding to examine him next
by the sense of feeling, but a significant gesture of the
other partly recalled him to his senses.

“Never mind,” said Seth, apologetically, “it's all
the same, you'll do;” which last two words he continued
slowly to repeat at intervals of a few seconds,
while reperusing the features of his companion.
Never doubting that he was dealing with a madman,
Derick stood a little upon his guard, and returned the
other gaze for gaze. But when Van Corlear's excitement
had partly subsided, he politely apologized for
his rudeness, and having cordially shaken hands with
the huntsman, they were in a few minutes seated together
at the foot of a huge tree, engaged in earnest
conversation. Whatever may have been the subject
under discussion, it was evidently one which pleased
them both mightily. Seth, however, now kept himself
under restraint, although his body seemed to have
parted with all its natural gravity. Like the pith-ball
“witches” of children, held forcibly upon the wrong

[figure description] Page 056.[end figure description]

end, he seemed continually about to bound upward
and turn a somerset. His nervous grasp upon a projecting
root of the tree favored this supposition, and
conveyed the idea that he was holding himself down.
Derick was about twenty-five years of age, jovial to
an excess, and fond of every variety of adventure.
His inner man was but little indebted to education,
but he was quick-witted, had good natural parts, and
a head that was never hazy. When their forest conference
was ended, they returned immediately homeward,
and went privately to the wagon of Van Corlear,
where the latter unlocked his box and displayed its
contents to his companion. Much did they marvel
and chuckle, but at what more particularly, tradition
doth not say.

On the next morning, after another long and secret
conference with Derick, Seth bade his hospitable
friends adieu, and started for home, where he safely
arrived on the third day, having made the most formidable
inroads by the way upon Aunt Dinah's store
of provisions, to the no small delight of the good-natured
slave.

CHAPTER VI.

[figure description] Page 057.[end figure description]

It was about six weeks subsequent to the occurrence
of the events last related that a gentleman with a decidedly
foreign air, and wearing a heavy moustache,
called at the mansion of the patroon, and inquired for
General Van Ness. He seemed greatly afflicted on
hearing of his death, and dismounting from the jaded
steed which had evidently borne him no small distance,
demanded to know who was in possession of
the house. He was surrounded, by this time, by a
circle of awe-stricken negroes, whose huge platter
eyes were distended to the last extent, while a brood
of monkey-like children were peering through the
interstices, looking, if possible, still more astonished
and alarmed. The hoarse croak of old Jake at length
found utterance sufficient to reply, in behalf of the
company, that they didn't any of them know anything
there, but that Massa Seth was in yender and could
tell the gemman everything.

[figure description] Page 058.[end figure description]

“And who the d—l,” said the fierce-looking foreigner,
forgetting his grief, and frightening his whole
auditory a step or two backward, “who the d—l is
Massa Seth? Is there no one here to welcome
Bleecker Van Ness back to his father's house, after
ten long years of absence?”

Old Jake, on hearing this adjuration, ran up and
gave one eager gaze into the stranger's face, and then
stood mouthing horribly at him, without voice, while
every joint in his old palsied frame shook with agitation;
Aunt Dinah performed a feat never before recorded
of any of her race—she fainted outright, and
fell like a feather-bed upon the ground; while the rest
of the troop ran pell-mell in every direction, some
shouting, “A spook!” and others that the day of judgment
had come.

Attracted by the turmoil, Seth made his appearance
first at the window, and then descended into the court,
where, having hastily reproved the slaves, who had
rallied in the distance, he turned courteously to the
stranger, and inquired the cause of the alarm. The
latter at once assumed a more lofty air, and glancing
at the servants who were again clustering around him.

[figure description] Page 059.[end figure description]

replied that their affright could scarcely be considered
a matter of surprise. “I,” he continued, “am Bleecker
Van Ness, the only son and rightful heir of the late
patroon of Kenterhook. How long shall I stand, sir,
surrounded by menials, awaiting a stranger's invitation
to enter my own doors?”

Hurriedly apologizing by saying that astonishment
had held him speechless—for very much amazed was
Seth—he immediately led the way into his study,
which both having entered, he locked and double-locked
the door; but conscious that the listening
negroes were already piled three tiers deep on the
outside, he at once conducted the stranger across the
room into an adjoining bed-room. The door of this
apartment he also hastily closed, and then turned
upon his visiter a face bearing the marks of the last
stages of suffocation.

“You'll do,” he said, “you'll do,” chuckling and
choking as he grasped the hand of the other, and
then, throwing himself upon the bed, he buried his
face in the pillow, and shook like a stranded grampus.

“Don't you think I'm rather too dark?” said the

[figure description] Page 060.[end figure description]

stranger, looking in the mirror at his sun-burnt features.

“By no means,” replied Seth; “why, man, haven't
you been six years a prisoner in Algiers?”

“Oh, aye, I forgot that—so I have—and deuced hot
work it was, too, toiling on the quays under that broiling
sun.”

“Of course it was,” said Seth.

The two friends now sat down for further conference
and consultation, and for many days succeeding,
they were busily engaged together, at times poring
over maps and charts, and at times perusing books of
travels. The stranger proved an apt scholar, and
with Seth's aid, soon acquired a valuable addition to
his stock of useful knowledge. The delighted slaves
readily recognized him as their young master, and he,
in turn, remembered them all, not excepting some
youngsters of nine or ten years.

The new patroon did not, however, deem it prudent
to make any very extensive draughts as yet upon
the allegiance of his surrounding tenantry. His modesty
indeed extended so far, that he even denied himself
for the present to the few visiters whom the

[figure description] Page 061.[end figure description]

rumor of his unexpected advent attracted to his house.
But in the presence of Seth and the domestics he was
more pretending, and seemed desirous of practising
some of those airs of authority and station which his
future dignities might require him to exhibit, and
which would indicate to the observer that he had
been “to the manor born.”

“Look at dat now,” exclaimed the sable Josh, half
surlily, and half in admiration, as booted and spurred,
and flourishing a fanciful riding-whip, his young
master made his appearance, and after much scolding
at the imperfect grooming of his horse, (or rather of
Livingston's choicest steed,) mounted and rode dashingly
off—“jes look at dat—he aint rubbed down, aint
he? and he shining like beeswax all over. But golly
gosh!” continued the negro after a pause, with his
eyes fixed wonderingly on the flying steed, “how
Massa Bleecker do ride—how stiddy he set—see him
go, Quash—cross de bridge—over de creek—troo de
grove—by jingo! Massa Harry no ride like dat, any
how; yhah! yhah! yhah!” and an echoing plaudit
arose from the whole sable fraternity.

“That is really a very respectable sort of an

[figure description] Page 062.[end figure description]

animal,” exclaimed the new patroon when, after an
hour's absence, he had returned at the same rapid
pace, and dismounted among the officious slaves,
where Seth also chanced to be present; “quite respectable
for this new country, but you should mount
a real Barbary once, Mr. Van Corlear, to know what
riding is—a coal-black Barbary, with head erect and
flying mane, and flashing eyes, and flaring nostrils,
and feet that you'd swear didn't touch the ground once
in—”

An expressive glance from Seth interrupted this
beautiful rhapsody, and brought it to a rather lame
termination.

“Not that I ever rode one myself, of course, being
a prisoner there,” continued the other, “but I've seen
the Moors ride, you know, very often.”

“You'll do,” repeated Seth, once more, sotto voce,
as followed by the admiring eyes of the negroes, the
friends withdrew into the house; “You'll do—but—I
say!”

“What, Seth?”

“Do you know what is in that formidable looking
box, locked and strapped and cased in canvass?”

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