"Oh, God!" he cried, "Julia!--my Julia!"--and, without seeming to touch the earth, he flew down the bank, and threw himself headlong into the stream. His great exertions and nervous arms soon brought him alongside of Julia, and, happily for them both, an eddy in the waters drew them to the land. With some difficulty Charles was enabled to reach the shore with his burthen.
Julia was not insensible, nor in the least injured.
Her aunt was soon by her side, and folding her in her arms, poured out her feelings in a torrent of tears. Charles would not, however, suffer any delay, or expressions of gratitude--but, forcing both aunt and niece into the carriage, bid Anthony drive rapidly to a tavern known to be at no great distance.--On their arrival, both Julia and Charles immediately clad themselves in dry clothes--when Miss Emmerson commanded the presence of the young man in her own room. On entering, Charles found Julia sitting by a fire, a thousand times handsomer, if possible, than ever. Her eyes were beaming with gratitude, and her countenance was glowing with the excitement produced by the danger that she had encountered.
"Ah! Charles, my dear cousin," cried Julia, rising and meeting him with both hands extended, "I owe my life to your bravery and presence of mind.""And mine too, Charles." said Miss Emmerson; "but for you, we should have all gone off the hill together.""Yes, if Anthony had not managed the horses admirably, you might have gone indeed," said Charles, with a modest wish to get rid of their praise. But this was an unlucky speech for Charles:
he had, unconsciously presented the image of a rival, at the moment that he hoped he filled all the thoughts of Julia.
"Ah, Antonio!" she cried, "poor Antonio!--and where is he?--Why do you not send for him, dear aunt?""What, my love, into my bed-chamber!" said Miss Emmerson, in surprise; "fear has made the girl crazy!--But, Charles, where is Anthony?""In the stable, with the horses, I believe," said the youth--"no, here he is, under the window, leading them to the pump.""Give him this money," said Miss Emmerson, "and tell him it is for his admirable skill in saving my life."Julia saw the danger of an exposure if she interfered, yet she had the curiosity to go to the window, and see how Antonio would conduct in the mortifying dilemma.
"Here, Anthony," said Charles, "Miss Emmerson has sent you ten dollars, for driving so well, and saving the carriage.""Ah! sir, it is no matter--I can ask nothing for that, I'm sure."But Charles, accustomed to the backwardness of the common Americans to receive more than the price stipulated, still extended his hand towards the man. Julia saw his embarrassment, and knowing of no other expedient by which to relieve him, said, in a voice of persuasion--"Take it for my sake, Antonio--if it be unworthy of you, still, take it, to oblige me."The man no longer hesitated, but took the money, and gave Julia a look and a bow that sunk deep into the tablet of her memory--while Charles thought him extremely well paid for what he had done, but made due allowances for the excited state of his cousin's feelings.
"You perceive," said Miss Emmerson, with a smile, as Julia withdrew from the window, "if Charles be a little afraid of lightning, he has no dread of the water.""Ah! I retract my error," cried Julia; "Charles must be brave, or he never could have acted so coolly, and so well.""Very true, my love," said Miss Emmerson, excessively gratified to hear her niece praise the youth; "it is the surest test of courage when men behave with presence of mind in novel situations.
Those accustomed to particular dangers easily discharge their duties, because they know, as it were instinctively, what is to be done. Thus with Tony--he did well, but, I doubt not, he was horribly frightened--and for the world he could not have done what Charles did.""Not Antonio!" echoed Julia, thrown a little off her guard--"I would pledge my life, aunt, that Antonio would have done as much, if not more, than Charles!""Why did he not, then?---It was his place to stop the carriage---why did he not?""It was his place," said Julia, "to manage the horses, and you acknowledge that he did it well.
Duties incurred, no matter how unworthy of us, must be discharged; and although we may be conscious that our merit or our birth entitles us to a different station from the one we fill, yet a noble mind will not cease to perform its duty, even in poverty and disgrace."Miss Emmerson listened in surprise; but as her niece often talked in a manner that she did not comprehend, she attributed it to the improvements in education, and was satisfied. But Julia had furnished herself with a clue to what had occasioned her some uneasiness. At one time she thought Antonio ought to have left carriage, horses, every thing, and flown to her rescue, as Charles had done; but now she saw that the probity of his soul forbade it. He had, doubtless, by secret means, induced the owner of the horses to entrust them to his keeping---and could he, a soldier, one used to trust and responsibility, forget his duty in the moment of need? Sooner would the sentinel quit his post unrelieved---sooner the gallant soldier turn his back on his enemy---or sooner would Antonio forget his Julia!
With this view of the propriety of his conduct, Julia was filled with the desire to let him know that she approved of what he had done. Surely, if any thing can be mortifying to a lover, thought our heroine, it must be to see a rival save the life of his mistress, while imperious duty chains him to another task.
Young as Julia was, she had already learnt, that it is not enough for our happiness that we have the consciousness of doing right, but it is necessary that others should think we have done so too.
