The Belle of Bowling Green
ratified, and Leonard promised to see Judge Bloommaert as soon as the
latter was able to discuss the subject.
“And you will not vex my father about Mr. Burr? Dear Leonard, you will
not put Mr. Burr before me?”
“I will put no one on earth before you, my darling! No one!”
“Remember, Leonard, that you have had nothing but worries since you
visited the man. But wherever or whenever you meet Aaron Burr, I would
count it an unlucky day.”
And the questionable words sunk deeper into Leonard’s consciousness than
far more reasonable arguments would have done. He answered them with
kisses only, but as he walked up the Bowling Green he said at
intervals, as if answering his thoughts: “Perhaps--maybe--who can tell?
She is best of all, God forever bless her!”
As for Sappha, she went swiftly upstairs to her room. Her heart was as
light as it had been heavy. She sat down, she arose, she rubbed her
palms with pleasure, she sighed, she smiled, and her eyes were full of
love’s own light as she whispered softly, “Leonard! Leonard! Leonard!
Oh, my dear one!”
Thus does grief favour all who bear the gift of tears.
CHAPTER SEVEN
_The Incident of Marriage_
The interview so important to Leonard’s love affairs, and so eagerly
desired by him, did not come as he had planned it should come. He had
intended to speak to the judge when Mrs. Bloommaert was present and
Sappha not far away, for he counted very largely on their personal
influence for a favourable answer to his request. But one morning as he
was passing the house the judge, who was sitting by the window, saw him;
and by a friendly, familiar gesture, invited him to an interview.
“You see, Mr. Murray,” he said cheerfully, “I have fallen behind in all
city news. Sit an hour and tell me what is going on.” And he held the
young man’s hand and looked with pleasure into his frank, handsome
countenance.
“Well, judge, De Witt Clinton is sure to be re-elected mayor.”
“Yes, yes; the majority of the council are Federalists.”
“I think the war party are equally in his favour.”
“No doubt, he has been a good mayor. Any war news?”
“There is a report that the _Constitution_ captured the British war
frigate _Java_ about last Christmas Day. I believe the report, for it
came by the privateer _Tartar_, Captain King.”
“I wish we could have any such news from the Niagara frontier. Nothing
but disaster comes that way. The government has requested my son Peter
to go there and assist Brown with the building of the lake fleet. I
wonder if it will accomplish anything.”
“All it is intended to accomplish, judge. We must give the men up there
time and opportunity. Before summer is over we shall hear from them.”
They then began a conversation upon the defences of New York, and
Leonard described the work going forward on Hendrick’s reef, and at
Navesink. “There are more than eight hundred Jersey Blues on the
heights,” he said, “and the telegraph on the Highlands is ready to work.
General Izard is an active and zealous officer.”
Having exhausted this subject, the judge suddenly became personal, and
with an abruptness that startled Leonard, asked:
“How are you spending these fine winter days, Mr. Murray? Tell me, if my
question is not an intrusive one.”
“Indeed, sir, I consider it a great honour. And advice from you, at this
time, would be of more service than you can imagine.”
“If you will take it; but most people ask advice only that it may
confirm them in the thing they have already resolved to do.”
“I will ask your advice, sir. It cannot but be better than my own
opinion.” Then Leonard explained his intention with regard to the study
of the law regulating real estate, and Judge Bloommaert listened with
attention and evident satisfaction.
“It will be a good thing for you to do, Mr. Murray,” he answered, when
Leonard ceased speaking. “You ought not to be idle, even if you can
afford it; and this study will not only employ your time, it will
eventually save you much money. Go and see Mr. Vanderlyn. Perhaps he may
let you read with him. No one knows more about real estate.”
“I have been told, sir, that Mr. Burr is the greatest authority on that
subject.”
“Mr. Burr is out of consideration.”
“I confess, sir, that I have already considered him.”
“Have you spoken to him?”
“Not definitely.”
“Mr. Murray, if you sit in Mr. Burr’s office, you will soon share his
opinions. And in such case, I should be compelled to forbid you the
society of myself and family. You cannot touch pitch and not be
defiled.”
He spoke with rising anger, and Leonard answered as softly as possible:
“Judge, I ask your advice in this matter. I have already told you I
would take it. Can we not talk of Mr. Burr as reasonably as of the war
and our defences? I am open to conviction, and free to confess that I do
not see what Mr. Burr has done to merit the ostracism he is receiving
from certain parties. I suppose it is one of the accidents of his fate,
a paradox--and life is full of paradoxes.”
“Mr. Burr’s ostracism is no accident, it is his own act. The man has
committed a crime, and the interpretation thereof is written on
everything he does.”
“You mean his duel with Mr. Hamilton? Sir, if Mr. Hamilton had killed
Mr. Burr, would the Federalists have considered it a crime?”
“Mr. Hamilton’s case is out of our jurisdiction. It is gone to a higher
court.”
“Is not that special pleading, judge?”
“It will do for the case.”
“Hamilton had publicly called Burr unprincipled, dangerous, despicable,
an American Cataline--oh, many other derogatory epithets! Would not Mr.
Burr have been generally held as despicable if he had not defended his
good name?”
“By killing his defamer?”
“Well, sir, how else could he have done it?”
“In politics men call each other all sorts of ill names. They even
invent new ones for their opponent. And though in Paradise the lion will
lie down with the lamb, in Paradise they will not have to submit their
rival political views to general elections. Say that Mr. Hamilton was
vituperative--it was a war of words. Mr. Burr Had a tongue and a pen,
as well as Mr. Hamilton. If Mr. Hamilton had insulted Mr. Burr’s wife,
or run off with his daughter, there might have been some excuse for a
bloody settlement, but words, words, words, the tongue or the pen would
have answered them.”
“Then, judge, you do not approve of the duel?”
“I do not. But I think that Mr. Burr’s fatal mistake will eventually put
duelling as much out as witchcraft. We shall probably also have strong
repressive laws against it.”
“Yet as long as public opinion respects duelling, no repressive law will
be as strong as public opinion. We are as moral and intelligent now as
any people can be, yet the duel is not obsolete, nor has Mr. Burr’s
ostracism been a deterrent.”
“I know that. Last year two men quarrelled about an umbrella in the hall
of Scudder’s Museum, and the next day one of them shot the other dead.
Nine out of ten people called the dead man a fool for his pains. Mr.
Murray, the duel has become perilously close to the ridiculous. Men may
talk about blowing out brains for an angry word, but the majority
quietly laugh at the absurdity. Such conduct is totally unworthy of
American common sense. For no man of intelligence would fight a duel if
he remembered that he would render himself liable to form the text for
an article in _The Morning Chronicle_. To be treated either with its
satire or its morality would be equally depressing--it would make him
intensely ridiculous in any case. But we shall never give up duelling
on moral and intelligent grounds.”
“Then on what other grounds?”
“The class duellists come from are the brainless class; and if the
custom was strictly confined by this class to their fellows, it would be
one of the most innocent of their amusements. We must make duelling
ridiculous, for when mockery and satire are constant about any subject,
you may know that thing is dead, and its shell only remains.”
“But, judge, if a man’s honour is assailed----”
“If we were all Hotspurs, Mr. Murray, and ready to plunge into the deep
and pluck honour by the locks, we might count on sympathy; but when the
majority think with Falstaff, that ‘honour is a mere scutcheon’ we get a
chill, until we remember the divine law. For after all, sir, the
Decalogue remains as a finality. Look up the sixth clause of that code.”
“There is nothing to add to it, sir.”
“Not on moral and intellectual grounds. Socially, you may remember the
homely proverb which advises ‘Go with good men, and you will be counted
one of them.’ Go with Mr. Burr, and you will be counted with him; held
at the same price--nay, you will be only one of Mr. Burr’s satellites.
If you want really to study law----”
“No, sir. I give up the idea. I have said sufficient to Mr. Burr to
wound him if I go elsewhere. And just because he is down at present, I
will not give him a coward’s kick.”
“There is no occasion to do so. It is not a chargeable thing to salute
civilly. But Mr. Burr’s affairs are none of your profit, therefore why
make them your peril?”
“I thank you for your good advice, judge.”
“Then take it.”
“I will, sir.”
“Now having interfered with your intention, I am bound to offer you
something in its place. It is this: I can get you active employment with
Gouverneur Morris, Simeon De Witt, and John Rutherford, who are busy yet
in perfecting their plans for the streets of the future New York. I
should not wonder if they map out the whole island. In fact, they have
already provided space for a greater population than is collected on any
spot this side of China. I cannot say I like their mathematical
arrangement; they are making a city idealised after Euclid--straight,
stiff, wearisome, without character or expression.”
“But it will be a most convenient arrangement. I would carry the plan
out, even north of Harlem Flat.”
“There will be no houses there for centuries to come.”
“Oh, yes, sir, before this century goes out.”
The judge smiled. He liked the young man’s enthusiasm, and he answered:
“So be it. You shall help to survey the ground. I will speak to De Witt
to-morrow.”
At this point of the discussion there was a knock at the front door,
followed by a little stir of entrance, and the sound of speech and light
laughter. Both men were suddenly all ear. There was no more
conversation, and after a few moments of silent expectation Mrs.
Bloommaert and Sappha entered the room together. They were in happy
mood, and Sappha was so lovely with the bloom of the frosty air on her
smiling face that Leonard forgot everything and every one but her, and
before either were aware he had taken her hands and kissed her.
The next moment they both realised their position, and Leonard, still
holding Sappha’s hand, led her to the astonished father. “Sir,” he said,
“we have loved each other since we were children. Will you now sanction
our love, and permit our betrothal?”
The judge looked helplessly at his wife. She was watching the young
couple with smiles on her face, and evident sympathy in her heart for
their cause. If he wished to be adverse and disagreeable, he foresaw he
would have no help from Mrs. Bloommaert. Yet to give up in a moment all
the wavering feelings of dislike he had entertained for Leonard, and all
his own settled purpose of no recognised engagement for his daughter
until peace was accomplished, was a hard struggle. Perhaps it was well
he had to decide in a moment. At that precise hour he was in a mood of
liking Leonard, and he had no time to reason himself into another mood.
Slowly, and with a little asperity, he answered:
“Mr. Murray, it seems to me you have not waited either for my sanction
or my permission.”
“Ah, sir, consider the temptation.”