Hearts of Oak, Part II [pp. 419-431]

HEARTS OF OAK4.
less youth, and he was well-nigh lost in
the tempest of his grief. His whole nat ure seemed altered. The currents of his
life turned suddenly, as it were, from
their natural course. He was hardly to
be recognized in the weak-spirited, un happy, sullen boy that he became after
his beloved mother had been taken from
him. Some of his old companions were
sent for, as though they could tempt him
back to cheerfulness. But their faces
were saddened, and their voices hushed.
The Rookery had so recently been the
abode of death, that they were a little
shy of its wide halls and silent chambers.
He was petted exceedingly by his father
-who, in truth, fairly idolized his heirand hle was promised any thing he chose
to ask for; but he had not the heart to
ask for any thing. His very features
seemed changed: he was no longer rosy
and boyish-looking. He grew hollowcheeked and dull-eyed; and it became a
question of some importance what should
be done with him. The doctor-the
same of whom we caught a glimpse one
summer night-said he must have a
change of scene, and that the old associations must be broken up.
Paul did not care much what happened. He seemed to have lost all interest in places and persons; even Rivers
could hardly bring the light back to his
eye, though he tried his best to do it.
The matter was discussed; plans were
made and unmade, and finally Paul was
shipped, in charge of a guardian, for a
short voyage across the sea.
For several days the novelty of sealife amused him. But it soon became
monotonous, and he watched with eagerness for the faint outlines of the palmisland which was their destination, and
became a little vexed and impatient until they made it finally-a purple cloud
beyond a purple sea-just at sunset, in
a warm latitude. In the morning they
were close under the land; and Paul
was wild with excitement at the new
splendor of tropical life, that burst upon
him like a page of romance from his
well - thumbed copy of the "Arabian
Nighlts."
How the penetrating tropic heat nour ished him, and the surf- baths strength ened him, and the glorious showers of
the Equator refreshed him, giving him
a new joy in life! There was nothing to
annoy him, for his thoughts were constantly occupied with the novelty of
every thing in this strange place. He
rode, boated, lounged about in delicious,
dreamy idleness, and made the acquaintance of a few aristocratic young men,
who were entirely oblivious of any world
beyond the horizon of their own plantations.
In all this sensuous life the dear grave
of his mother was not forgotten: he
thought of her and of the lonesome
Rookery; of the glaring white monument that bore her beloved name. But
he thought of them with less bitterness,
with less violent emotion, now. Chum
Rivers deluged him with letters full of
school gossip, flirtations, engagements,
quarrels, etc., with now and then a mention of the death of this one or that one.
How near to Paul seemed the thought
of death now! He understood it as he
never had understood it before; and it
gave him a little twinge about the heart
somewhere, sharp and painful, every
time he thought of it. These letters
threw him into an odd sort of reverie,
and he could feel one of his old, crying
spells about to come on him, like the
quick, sudden storms of the sunny latitudes he dwelt in. It was like touching
upon a forbidden subject with him, this
thinking of death; and he indulged in it
occasionally, with the relish that sweetens any impropriety.
In his walks, when he reached the
cliff-a favorite resort and lay down
to watch the shining sea and the sailing
gulls, the little shudders that ran through
the grass, on the edge of the cliff where
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