Aaron Trow | Page 6

sell it to the
ship-builders at Hamilton. In our story we shall not have very much to
do with old Mr. Bergen, but it will be necessary to say a word or two
about his house.
It stood upon what would have been an island in the creek, had not a
narrow causeway, barely broad enough for a road, joined it to that
larger island on which stands the town of St. George. As the main road
approaches the ferry it runs through some rough, hilly, open ground,
which on the right side towards the ocean has never been cultivated.
The distance from the ocean here may, perhaps, be a quarter of a mile,
and the ground is for the most part covered with low furze. On the left
of the road the land is cultivated in patches, and here, some half mile or
more from the ferry, a path turns away to Crump Island. The house
cannot be seen from the road, and, indeed, can hardly be seen at all,
except from the sea. It lies, perhaps, three furlongs from the high road,
and the path to it is but little used, as the passage to and from it is
chiefly made by water.
Here, at the time of our story, lived Mr. Bergen, and here lived Mr.
Bergen's daughter. Miss Bergen was well known at St. George's as a
steady, good girl, who spent her time in looking after her father's
household matters, in managing his two black maid-servants and the
black gardener, and who did her duty in that sphere of life to which she
had been called. She was a comely, well-shaped young woman, with a
sweet countenance, rather large in size, and very quiet in demeanour. In

her earlier years, when young girls usually first bud forth into womanly
beauty, the neighbours had not thought much of Anastasia Bergen, nor
had the young men of St. George been wont to stay their boats under
the window of Crump Cottage in order that they might listen to her
voice or feel the light of her eye; but slowly, as years went by,
Anastasia Bergen became a woman that a man might well love; and a
man learned to love her who was well worthy of a woman's heart. This
was Caleb Morton, the Presbyterian minister of St. George; and Caleb
Morton had been engaged to marry Miss Bergen for the last two years
past, at the period of Aaron Trow's escape from prison.
Caleb Morton was not a native of Bermuda, but had been sent thither
by the synod of his church from Nova Scotia. He was a tall, handsome
man, at this time of some thirty years of age, of a presence which might
almost have been called commanding. He was very strong, but of a
temperament which did not often give him opportunity to put forth his
strength; and his life had been such that neither he nor others knew of
what nature might be his courage. The greater part of his life was spent
in preaching to some few of the white people around him, and in
teaching as many of the blacks as he could get to hear him. His days
were very quiet, and had been altogether without excitement until he
had met with Anastasia Bergen. It will suffice for us to say that he did
meet her, and that now, for two years past, they had been engaged as
man and wife.
Old Mr. Bergen, when he heard of the engagement, was not well
pleased at the information. In the first place, his daughter was very
necessary to him, and the idea of her marrying and going away had
hardly as yet occurred to him; and then he was by no means inclined to
part with any of his money. It must not be presumed that he had
amassed a fortune by his trade in cedar wood. Few tradesmen in
Bermuda do, as I imagine, amass fortunes. Of some few hundred
pounds he was possessed, and these, in the course of nature, would go
to his daughter when he died; but he had no inclination to hand any
portion of them over to his daughter before they did go to her in the
course of nature. Now, the income which Caleb Morton earned as a
Presbyterian clergyman was not large, and, therefore, no day had been

fixed as yet for his marriage with Anastasia.
But, though the old man had been from the first averse to the match, his
hostility had not been active. He had not forbidden Mr. Morton his
house, or affected to be in any degree angry because his daughter had a
lover. He had merely grumbled forth an intimation that those who
marry in haste repent at leisure,--that