The Story of a Summer | Page 9

we had entirely forgotten Ida's erratic
admirer, when Gabrielle returned from a morning walk with the
information that an intoxicated man was sitting upon the steps of the
side-hill house. She met mamma and Ida starting for a little stroll, and
communicated this unpleasant news to them. Mamma, however, is not
timid, and she walked on with Ida, determined to view the invader from
afar, and then summon Bernard to dismiss him.
A figure was sitting, as Gabrielle said, upon the piazza of the new
house, but was so motionless that Ida exclaimed laughingly:

"It is a scarecrow placed there by some one in retaliation for our notice
to trespassers to keep off the grounds."
As they passed it, however, the scarecrow slowly lifted its head and
addressed them with:
"Is this Mr. Greeley's place?"
"Yes," said mamma.
"And is this young lady Miss Ida?"
"Yes."
"You have received, I believe, a few letters from me, Miss Ida: my
name is Hudson."
Fortunately our family are not of a fainting disposition, for a tête-à-tête
with a lunatic was a situation requiring some nerve and perfect
self-control; so, although mamma and Ida were much alarmed upon
learning the name of their visitor, they neither screamed nor fainted,
and mamma invited him quite courteously to walk up to the house.
Mr. Hudson was a tall, powerful man, with cunning, restless, gray eyes,
was well dressed, and wore a linen duster. He had come, he said, seven
hundred miles to see Ida. Upon reaching the house, he followed
mamma into the dining-room where Marguerite, Gabrielle, and I were
sitting at work.
"Ah, Miss Gabrielle!" he said, "I supposed you were at school."
One or two other rational remarks of the sort, and mamma's perfect
sang-froid so deceived me that I decided the supposed lunatic must be
perfectly sane. In a moment, however, he looked somewhat uneasy, and
said:
"I have a long story to tell your niece, ma'am, but I feel a little bashful
about speaking before so many young ladies."

"Would you like to see me alone, then?" said mamma promptly; "you
would not object to telling your story to a married woman."
Then signing to us to leave the room, she followed us to the door, and
breathing rather than whispering, "Run for Bernard," returned.
It appears that the man grew more excitable when alone with mamma,
and the story he told her was not a cheerful one to hear.
"It began," he said, "five years ago, by my father cutting his throat with
a razor. They say he was crazy, and," with a fiendish chuckle, "some
people say I am crazy too."
"Indeed!" said mamma, sympathetically, "how sad!"
"This we may call the first scene in the story," he added, although what
connection there was between suicide and his proposed marriage with
Ida, poor mamma could not imagine.
I could half fill my journal with the rambling, senseless, and menacing
remarks that Hudson made to mamma, adding emphasis to his
discourse by whirling a pair of very long and sharp scissors close to her
eyes (he was further armed with two razors, we subsequently learnt).
Ida, he said, first appeared to him in a vision--a beautiful young girl in
distress, who appealed to him for aid, but some one seemed to stand
between them--a tall woman dressed as a Sister of Charity (evidently
mamma, in her mourning dress and long crape veil). He then enlarged
upon the awful punishment that inevitably overtook those who opposed
the Will of Providence (i.e., his marriage with Ida): death by some
violent means being unavoidable. At this point, the scissors were
whirled more excitedly than ever, and Hudson's eyes glared with rage. I
need not say that mamma feared every moment would be her last; but
still preserving a calm exterior, she never took her eyes off him for an
instant, and merely remarking, "It is quite warm here; shall we not sit
upon the piazza?" accompanied him there, and sat down close beside
him, that he might not suspect she feared him. The moments seemed
endless until Bernard's heavy tread was heard upon the kitchen stairs.

"Excuse me a moment," said mamma, with a most innocent face; and in
an interview of half a minute explained to Bernard that Hudson was a
dangerous lunatic who must be taken away immediately; then waiting
till the valorous Bernard was safely out on the piazza, she
unceremoniously shut and locked the door. Hudson, apparently much
surprised at such inhospitable conduct, pulled the door-bell half a
dozen times. When he was quite wearied with his exertions, Bernard
suggested that they should take a little walk together. Much coaxing
was requisite, for Hudson was quite determined to effect an entrance;
but finally Bernard took his arm, and bore him off to