Evelina, the pauper's child : or, Poverty, crime, and sorrow. A romance of deep pathos

Chapter I. The Distressed Home

— THE DESPAIR OP POVERIY. THE HUMBLE FRIEND. THE BRUTAL PROPOSAL. 'You weep, dear mother; I fe.l yonr tears upon lay cheek ; and you look so pale and ill that I tremble to gazs upon you. 'Tis nnny hours since we have tasted food ; I am hungry and cold — very cold — but stilt, my mother, I will not murmur. Dry then your tears, and let us offer up our prayers to God, who will not desert us in this, our hour of dreadful need. 'My sweet child, my patient Evelina,' sobbed the distracted mother, pressing the form of her shivering, pale, but lovely girl still closer to her bosom, and gazing, with despairing eyes and a bursting heart, in her face, • my own loved child, can I cease to weep — can I cease to weep when I see your gradually declining looks, your poor, tender, sinking frame ; when I hear you ask for foot', and I have none to give you ?

O God! ol an infinite mercy, what have we doi;e tbat we should merit this terrible visitation of Tby wraths Richard, my poor husband, what can detain you, and in this fearful storm ? Alas . alas I I fear that your melancholy errand has proved unsuccessful, and tbat, dreading to meet again the famished looks of your wife and child, you have been driven to commit some terrible act. Your proud and honest spirit can never endure this unmerited affliction. ' Mother, dear mother,' Raid the child, looking up in her wretched parent's countenance, with an expression of intelligence far beyond hei years, of which not more than seven had passed over her head," ' you cannot think ao badly of our wealthy fellow-creatures as to believe tbat they will leave ns here to perish of want. Colonel Ormond is a great man, he has plenty of money and every comfort, and surely he will not refuse the supplication of my father, but will lot k No. I, humble parents, he had discarded him, out him off with a shilling, and carrying his unnatural ani mosity to the grave , b queathed the whole of his property to a very distsnt relation, who was no»v basking In all the enjoyment it afforded him. upon oor troubles with compassion, and afford us die/.' 4 My darling Evelina,1 sighed Mrs. Marsden, 'your tender innocent mind can yet form no conception of tbe cruelty of mankind.

Compas sion ! — alas 1 little is the sympathy that the wealthy have forthe miserable victims-' of poverty ; and Colonel Ormond, I fear, is one whose heart ls seldom softened to pity. Have they not stripped us of everything we had in the world — merci lessly torn the humble beds from under us? and, perhaps, before many hours have elapsed, will not allow us even the shelter of theBe bare walls, but will drive us forth, like the most degraded reptiles thatcrawltheeartb, into the bleak air, to continue to drag out a wretched existence, through the niggardly charity of strangers, or to perish, unheeded aud unpitied, by the road-side. Heaven, in mercy, look down upon us, for the gloomy prospect befoie us is too dreadful to con template.' Colonel Ormond was in London the day this cruel seizure was made, hut he returned to 1 is mansion the following day, aod Mrs. Marsden entreated her husband to seek an interview with him, and try and move him to compassion.

But Marsden well knew the character of the colonel, and felt convinced :*t was by his orders the dis tress had b?eu levied upon him, therefore that it would b_ useless to appeal to him for mercy, and it was not until they had been rc any t;ours without food, excepting a scanty meal supplied to them by some of their humble neighbours, who cou id but ill afford It from their llmite I means, that he yielded to the persuasions of hiB wifa, and the pale countenance of his poor child, his darl ing Evelina, and hastened to Ormond Castle, to seek the presence of the colonel. '1 am oold — cold, mother!' s_i_ the unfortu* nate child, tiembling more violently than before, _nd her face becoming every moment more pale. Her mother threw her arms ar und her and enfolded her aa well as she could in her own _c__ty apparsl; then she led her to one corner of the room , which was more protected from the howling blast, and they both crouched down npon the floor, the most pitiable objects of misery and destitution tbat the most fertile imagination could form a just picture of.

The warring elemen's conspired to render the horrors withuut more appalling. Tha wina howl ■ ed in frightfu' guits, driving hall, rain, and sleet Impetuously before it, threatening the destruction of everything in its course. The ponderous clouds which hung over the sky rendered it almost as dark aa midnight ; and the very earth sent up clou s of steam, as horn a mighty engme, from the force ofthe violent t.rrents of hail and rain whxh fell. It was a bleak and dreary afternoon, about the middle of November. AH things appeared cheerless and desolate ; It seemed impossible that even the hearts of those who were blessed with the choicest gifts of fortune could be otherwise than depiessel and gloomy in such a season ; what then must have been the sufferings ot the poor, starving wretch, left destitute by the brutal tyranny and sordid rapacity of man 7 What must have been the argufah of those whose mis fortnnes should have excited tho deepest com miseration, and whose honeBt virtues should have entitled them to respect?

The little Evelina grew more pale, and there was a ghastly expression in her eyes, which was truly appalling to behold. Her dis« tracted mother was so faint, too, that it was with difficulty ahe could support her; or sustain her head upon her bosom, while she shielded her as well as she could from the pitiless b.ast, and wept tears of the bitterest agony upouher cheek?. ' My God I' she exclaime J, ' what will become of us? My poor child, my innocent girl, and must you perish thus? Allpitying He ven, come to oui relief. Richard, Richard, why . o you not return 1' Yet such waa the situation of Richard Mars din, his still lovely wife, and the little Evelina. Three daya before, th j merciless Bt e ward of Colonel Ormond had seized upon every article of his furniture for rent aud other arrears due, dragging the very beds fron underneath them, and laaving them nothing but tho bare walls of their once happy homo to gaze upon ; and accompanied with the threat tbat in a few hours they would be ejected from even that miserable shelter. £h vain had Richard Marsden appealed to him for mercy ; she brutal answer he received w_s, a recommendation for him to ' beg, or steal, or go to the workhouse I' ' Dear mother,' said the patient child, ' I am bitter— better now.

It was only a little faint ness that came ever m s, aud the terror of the storm was too much for my childish frame. Poor father cannot venture to return till the tempest has abated.' ' No, no, my Evelina !' ejaculated Mrs. Marsden; ' not all the hcr.r___ of the storm, if they were even ten ti-res more dreadful than they are — no danger, however terrible, could prevent your father from retarning to our dwell-. ing If he had gained the relief he went to seek. He has failed to mo7e ihe heart of C.lonel Osmond, and, In the f.enzy of hia despa r, has committed some desperate and fearful act.' But Maraden was a mam of too prouS arid in dependent a spirit, too full of virtuous integrity, t. conceive a dishonest action ; he had a strong arm and a willing heart to work, let the employment be ever so humble or laborious, if he ould gat It io do, and ho scorned the Ida ot bec.ming a p.iuper.

He was a man of superior education and i;ir_l ectual aU-ainmenti. He had seen born to _fflaence, but offending hia fa her oy his matri-'ge, his wife being the daugulsr of ' Oh, horrible, my mother 1' gasped forth tha child, with a shudder. 'Heaven surely will a.ert bo s: ocking a calamity. Lst us offer up our prayers, r ut supplications, and they will be heard — indeed, indeed, they will!' Mrs. Mirsden kissed the g ast y cheek of her •augh'er *i.hfra_tic ar Jour, and then they both fell on their kr-ees, and w th clasped haudg offer ed up to tha Tnrone of Grace those men al aup„ plications which they could scarcely find strength to give uttranee to. with a feeling ol the moat agonising disappoint ment, ' then it i_ not he.' She staggered across the room as well as she could, and opening the door, gave admittance to the kind-hearted woman aud her sob.

It waB a piteous sight to behold them in that coid and comfortless room, with their famished looks and shivering forms, iu that at itude. The wind swept in at the windows and the different crevices with the most cutting effect, and not the least spark of fire burned In the grate, by whose genial influence they might have gained some trifling relief. Surely it must have been a monster, indeed, whose heart could have remained unmoved at such a sight. They were both loaded — the old woman with a saucepau in hor hand, and something tied up In her apron, and Felix, who was a fine, handsome intelligent boy, about ten years of age, with a bundle on his shoulder. Tears rolled down the poor boy's cbeoks when he beheld the deplorable condition of his youthful playmate and her mo ther, and placing the bun lie on the floor, he ap proached Evelina, and taking her hand, looked in her pale countenance with an expression that showed the teelings which were passing in his breast.

Another hour passed of increasing misery, and still Richard Madden came not, although the evening was rapidly advanc ng, and the distance of the cot age was not far from Ormond Castle. Something dreadlul must certainly hav. happened to him. AH kinds of terrible thoughts and conjectures rushed upon the distracted brain of his faithful wite. She knew that the proud spirit of her unfortunate husband could not brook insult, even though sunk In the lowest depths of poverty and misery; an. Bhould Colonel Oi'mond have turned a deaf e_r to his appeal to his humanity, aod to it added score and reproach, she shuddered to think what her hu band, in the frenzy of his excited feelings, might have been exasperated to do. Good God I he might, even at the present time, be the inmate of a prison. The thought waB too horrible for endurance, and, c asping her burning temples, she gave utterance to repeat d groans of insupportable agony. ' Poor things, poor things 1' said the compassionate old woman, ' oh, what a cruel man must Mr. Flint be to have done this I But take heart, tak* heart; things have come to the worst with you, and surely must soon mend.

I have brought you some nice broth, which I have made ou pur pose, and a little bread and meat — all that I could scrape together, and God knows my means are small enough, or how gladly would I do more. And my poor little Felix said as he had had a good dinner and tea, he could not think of eat ing his supper, knowing that poor Evelina waa without; so hs has added that to the stock, if you will be pleased to accept of it. And then I have brought you some fuel to make you a fire, and a rug or two which may serve to make up somethi .g of a bed. Heaven help you! I wish I could do more. I'm sure my will is good enough, aud I should have come before if it had not been for the storm, I'm sure my heart bled for you, whiie I listened to it.' It was wonderful how the poor child could support her delicate frame at ail, under such a fearful trial; but she battled with it with all the courage of a little heroine, and In the mo ment of her mother's greatest despair, tried to appear more calm.

While the garrulous but humane Mrs. Goodson waB thus rapidly speaking, sbe was not otherwise idle; she hastily spread a clean napkin on the floor before Evelina and her mother, placed on it some basins, pUtes, aod knives an _ forks, and the provi-iuns she had brought, and then pro ceeded with uncommon activity, for her age, to kindle a fire in the grate. The tempest at length lulled, the wind gradually died away in m.umtul, sullen echoes, and the rain entirely ceased; but tbe sole . n silence — the death like calm that succeeded was, if possible, almost as awful aa had been the storm in its utmost fury. It appeared like the fore warning of something moro dreadful that was about to happen. Mrs. Marsden's heart was full to bursting, aad she could not _pe_k, while Evelina aud Felix sobbed aloud.

Yet to the little and innocent Evelina it afforded a ray of comfort aud hope. ' __ j>d has beard our pra. ens, my dearest mother,' she said, In a stronger voice ; ' see, the s or__ has ceased, and my father will return.' 'Heaven send tbat he may, my Evelina,' returned Mrs. Marsden. ' but my heart still mis gives me. Had I only but strength, and could venture to leave you alone, I would hasten forth ia search of him ; but, alas 1 my feeble limbs will scare. ly carry me ac.oss the room Ahi surely I heard a f lotstep. There Is a knock at the door I Richard, my beloved husband, have you indeed returned to your poor wife and child, aod has your melancholy errand been success* sals' ' Come, come, poor things, do nat fret,' said the kind creature, placing the saucepan ou the fire to warm the broth she had brought. 'God above will not forsake you in this your sad trou ble, and certainly the cruelty of Fliut will come hom. to him.

Perhaps I may be the next victim, although I aud my husband have lived upon the estate from childhood, and our parents before na. But there, now, tbe broth is all ready; so do uot delay, but eat, eat, eat 1 and it will revive you. I would come and stop with you to-night, aud attend upon sou and comfort you, for Heaven kaowB your poor pale looks show how much yo. need it, but you know I cannot leavœ my poor Bick daughter, who is very bad this evening, and I only snatched the opportunity of coming to you while Bhe had fallen into a doze. Now, do eat, that's a good creature, for I am sure you must be famishing.' 'Kindest of wemen 1' excl.imed M.s. 'lars den, pressing her hand and weeping tears ot the ' You have nothing to fear, Mrs. Marsden, said a well-known female voice, outside the cottage, ' it is only I, your poor old neighbour, Dime Goodson, and my boy Felix; ao pray open the door, for we have brought something lor you.' ' Gracious Heaven !' exclaimed Mrs. Marsden, warmest acfcnowledgmant, ' this Christian benevolence, ani from one who can ao ill afford it, goes to my heart.

It will preserve my poor child's life, but my husband ' ' And there will be some for him too ; I hope it ' ' Da not agitate yoursslf,' returned Mrs. Good son; 'he will return shortly, I have no doubt, and, I hope, with good news, But I am sorry to say that I canoot remain any longer with you, lest my girl should need my attendance. I will call and see you in the morning. Good-by, and will appease all your appetites for the present, aud God will send more,' Interrupted old Dame Goodson. God be with you I' ' And may He bless you, and render the even ing ef your days happy, for all the kindness you have shewn to me and mine I' said Mrs. Mars-* ' But ray husband Is away from home,' said Mrs. Marsden; 'home, alas I did I call it f And I know not what has become of him. I cannot eat without him.' den, energetically, at the same time pressing the good old woman's hand. ' But do you not know whither he has gone V Inquired Mrs. Goodson. 1 Good night, Evelina,' said Felix, ■ my prayers shall be offered up to Heaven for you and your parents. ' The little Evelina could make no reply, bat she suffered her young playfellow to press her hand, and ber tears flowed fa6t. The old woman and her son departed, and Mrs. Marsden followed them to the door, and anxiously looked out to as* cei tain, as well as the darkness would permit her, whether or nother husband waa approaching; but she saw nothing but the retreating forms of Felix and his mother, and she returned into the cottage in despair. ' He went to make an appeal to the humanity of Colonel Ormond, our landlord ; and he has been absent all the afternoon.

Much I fear that something has happened to him, or he would never have stayed away from us so long.' • Oh, no, do not alarm yourself. What can have happened to the poor man? They are having along conversation together, and arrang ing matters; and then the storm might have detained him. Now do let ma see you partake of some food, or I shall be offended, Indeed I shall.' The Are which Mrs. Goodson had kindled now sent forth a cheerful crackling blaza, which cast Yielding to the old woman's earnest and humane solicitations, Mrs. Marsden and her daugh ter did partake of a small poitiou of the broth, and some of the other provisions; and that, with the warmth of the lire, which was now blazing in the grate, did considerably revive them ; but stlK they both anxiously watched the cottage door, and listened to the slightest sound, tmstlng every moment to behold the arrival of the object of their deep solicitude ; but still they were doomed to this insupportable state of doubt and sus pense. a lurid reflection upon the bare and lonely walls of the room.

The warmth, and the slight but nourishing refreshment which Evelina bad partaken of, had greatly revived her nearly exhaust' ed strength, aud a slight hectic tinge had superseded the former ghastly paleness of her cheeks, but still her breast was tortured to the utmost degree, not only at the continued absence of her father, but to witness the almost insupportable agony her mother was enduring. Suddenly, however, they were startled by hearing the sound of a man's voice upon the air, and immediately afterwards the cottage door * as burst open, and Richard Marsden, his countenance deadly pale, his eyes distended, his limbs trembling, and his whole demeanour disordered to the utmost degree, rushed into the room. With a frantic cry of mingled delight and alarm, Mrs. Marsden rushed, as well as her enfeeb'od limbs would permit her, towards him, and threw herself almost faiuting in, his arms ; while Evelina, with a strength which from her recent suffering could not bave been expected, sprang to her feet, and running to him, clasped his knees, and looked up in bis face with an expression no language can properly pourtray. ' Richard, my husband, dear partner of my cares and anxieties,' exclaimed his wife, ' oh, are you indeed restored to met Ob, what has detained you so long ?

Your countenance, too, is frightfully disordered, and your limbs tremble ; something particular must bave occurred to agitate you in this violent manner. TeU me, have you been disappointed 1 Does Colonel Ormond remain inexorable, and is all hope at au end ?' ' And now,' said Dame Goodson, having ar ranged the rugs aad other articles of bedding she had brought with her to the best advantage on the floor, ' there is a little something better to rest your poor weary limbs upon than the bare boards, and yon will find fuel enough to keep up a good II re all night, and I will bring you some more in the morning. I wish that I could accommodate you at home ; hut there are only two rooms in my cottage, you know, and they are barely enough for me and my family. Besides, most 'ikely, if I had convenience to do so, I should bring down the spite of Mr. Flint, aud he would tuiu us out of our humble house as well.

Ah, ma ! it is a sad thing to be lu the po war of such cruel people. But keep up your spirits, Mrs. Marsden, and you, my dear Evelina, for Heaven, I trust, has fresh happiness in store for you.' Mrs. Marsden shook her head, and her tears flowed as fast as ever. ' To you, my good friend,' she said, ' I am in debted for that which I am afraid I shalt never be able to repay, but by gratitude. Ob, what an example do you set to those who are placed in the most affluent circumstances in life, and who take pride only to oppress and tyrannise _ ver their less fortunate fellow creatures, who, oy the honest sweat of their brow, mase that wealth they luxuriate in. But, gracious Hea /en ! wbat can still detain my husband f It is jow past seven o'clock, and it vtas little more han throe when he departed.' j •Hope!* repeated Marsden, in a hollow, hoarae voice, and staring wildly first at hls wife, and then at his child, ' the word is bitter mockery j there ls no hope for us, womaa ; none, none, but in the grave.

Misery, starvation, is alone our doom !' • Bs calm, dear Richard, for Heaven's sake P ejaculated Mrs. Marsden ; 'dark and gloomy as Some instinctive power restrained me, or had I done him justiee, I shou'd have stretched him dead at my feet, the moment that his lips dared to give utterance to it.' oar sate at present ls, there is a great, and all. bountiful God above, who solely wUl not abandon ui ln oui sdveisity. See, haxe is food !' 1 Food, food I— bat bow procured . TeU me, Lydia, as you value my love *' 'Gracious Heaven I' said bls astonished wife, ' Horror I horror I' 1 Ok, yes, well may you start with horror when you shall know all. Bat I cannot, dare not, call the crimson Dlush of shame and indigna tion into your cheek, my wife, by repeating tha hideous truth 1' ' what mean those doubtful looks ?

It was brought to me by our kind neighbour, Mrs Goodson.1 'Oh, name it, nam. it; this suspense ia more dreadful than even the truth can possibly be.' ' And shall I, Richard Marsden, who was bore to rank, to wealth, and station, consent to drag out my miserable existence, and these of my wife and child, from tha ebarity of those poor people, who need it nearly as bad as oui selves f ' 'Nay then/ said MarsdeD, 'even though It choke me, you shall hear it. The villain pro*; mlsed me not only the restoration of all that he has taken from me, but even to place me in a state of independence, and at what price, think you, Lydias 'It was given with the feeling of a Christian, and the heart of a fellow creature, Richard ; and God will never permit those poor people to suffer for their humanity. It has probably saved the life ot oar poor child, and preserved mine also, and therefore I know how highly you must prize it.' ' Oh, name, name it 1' 1 By Heaven ! the words choke me, I can not.' ' For mercy's sake, or I shall go mad ' Marsden hesitated for a moment er two, and ' And of what use is it for as to prolong our misery, Lydia, when aliis dark and hopeless!

Better would it be for us to rush at one. upon our fate, and save ourselves from the world's scorn aud persecution.' his feelings were evidently in a state of the ut most agitation. At length, turning to Evelina, he gently put her from him, and in a sabdued tone, said — ' Retire, my poor child ; your young ears must not be polluted by hearing the revolting disclo sure.* ' Oh, for He ven's sake, talk not thus, my dear husband,' said Mrs. Marsden : ' but endea vour to tranquillize your feelings, and to partake of some of the humble refreshment which you mmt stand so much in need of.' ' Fray do, my dear father,' implored the little Ereliaa, looking up in his face with the most In* describable affection. Evelina, with an anxious and bewildered look, retired to the other side of the room, and then Marsden grasping the arm of his wife, and look ing fear.ully in her face, said, in a low hoarse voice — ' Now, Lydia, you have asked for the disgust ing truth and you shall hear it.

At what price think you, I say, the heartless miscreant offered to restore me from my beggary, from pauperism, for am I not reduced to that wretched state, since I have been compelled to receive the charity of others f * ' No, no,' replied th? wretched Marsdea, with a look of increasing wildness ; ' eat yourselves, I cannot; a burning thirst ls upon me — my throat is parched ; would that I had brandy, that I might quaff away in deep libations the fiend of thoaght.' ' Alas, alas I this is dreadful, Richard ; what can have caused this unnatural change?' ' Speak, speik, let me know ths worst al once.' 'At the sacrifice of your honour!' ' Let me bar the door, and shield you with my person,' cried the unhappy man, fiercely ; ' the fiend is abroad tbat would destroy you, Lydia, aad make me a wretch indeed.

By ail ray hopes, sooner would I see you a corpse at my feet I' ' Great God ! great God !' exclaimed the h rrer struck Mrs. Marsden, hiding her blush ing sacs on her husband's bosom, and her whole frame convulsed the power of astonishment aad indignation. ' Is it possible that there can be so heartless a villain in exis Sence !' ' God of heaven, Richard, are you mad?' ' Me ? — yes, I am ; I have met with that, this day, which would drive any man to madness. I must be more thau man, did it not. My brain is on fire I Oh, that Richard Marsden should ever live to see this day.'

Chapter II. The Diking Visit Op The Libertine To The

' Has then Colonel Ormond * COTTAGE OP MISERY. — THE RESULT. — THE TORTURE AND DESPAIR OP RICHARD MARS' ' Mention not bis name ! It should freeze tbe very blood in your veins. May the curses of Heaven light upon him !' 4 Oh, forbiar— forbear, my husband,' said Mrs. M'rsdeo, in terrified accents; 'I never before heard such fearful words escape your lips. Has then the colonel refused to liBten to your appeal for mercy? Has he made no proposal to ' ' Proposal !' shouted Mauden, and his eyes became hluod shot with rage ; ' oh, yes, he has made such a proposal to me, aa only a fiend could mike. The monster I the miscreant ! DIN. — HIS ABRUPT DEPARTURE. ' It Is true, Lydia,' replied her husband, still supporting her trembling frame. ' This Is the _olonel Ormond from whom you expected I should find humanity, aad who, in the midst of all that abject misery which he himself has caused, dared to make such a fiendish proposal te me, your husband, who has ever loved you far more dearly thau hi. own life.

God ! tbe words still seem to hiss in my ear., and to scotch my t •Apply for chanty to the man who luxuriates in the possession of that wealth which should have been mine, aDd which be obtained by pre judicing my father against me, if not by a forged will,' cried MarsdeD, bis eyes flashing with in dignation. ' By the Just God above us ! I would sooner that we had to beg our bread from door to door. Lord Vernon Sidney is a villain, who would but spurn me from him with scorn and ineult, and triumph in the misfortunes of ono whom he always detested.' brain. Why did I not at o_ce striKe the monster, whom I had been kept two hours waiting to see, at my feet, and trample upon bim ? But the horror ofthe proposition took all power from me, and I stood pttrifi.d to the spot, as oue astound ed. Tbe blood rushed to my brain, and my eager tongue refused Its office ; but when I did In some measure recover myself, I loaded the miscreant with the bitterest reproaches, wbich he only received with scorn, and after telling me, with audacious effrontery, that I had better reflect upon it, be abruptly retired from the apartment; and, when I had given vent to my fruitless rage, I rushed from the castle, with a Becret determination, if ever the opportunity should present it self, to have revenge for the inhuman insult offered to my feelings.