The Pillars of the House; Or, Under Wode, Under Rode, Vol. 2 (of 2)

Home > Other > The Pillars of the House; Or, Under Wode, Under Rode, Vol. 2 (of 2) > Page 8
The Pillars of the House; Or, Under Wode, Under Rode, Vol. 2 (of 2) Page 8

by Charlotte M. Yonge


  CHAPTER XXXI.

  THE BARBE BLONDE.

  '"And neither toil nor time could mar Those features, so I saw the last Of Waring." "You! O never star Was lost here, but it rose afar. Look east, where old new thousands are."' _Browning._

  The first thing that really cheered Lance was an enforced holiday ofthe organist, when he was asked to undertake the church music in theinterregnum. He threw himself into the work, consulted Dr. Miles,who lent him books, and gave him lessons; and the whole current ofhis thoughts became so soothed and changed, that Felix attended tono remonstrance on the danger of unsettling him, but truly declaredthat the few hours he weekly gave to scientific music was more thancompensated by his increased power of attention, and steadiness ofconcentration on his business, as if he there found the balance neededby his sensitive nature.

  His head too, instead of aching more, as Wilmet had feared, sufferedless; but there was a change in him. He had experienced the bitternessof sin, as nearly and as bitterly as was possible to one yet intact.He had looked down an abyss, and been forced to recognise that hadhe followed Edgar into what he had tried to believe merely exciting,artistic, or free, he could hardly have been spared a flaw in his life.It was when wrapt in the grandeurs of sacred harmony that this sensedawned on him. It was most true of him that 'the joy of the Lord washis strength.' Respectability had no power over him, he had a likingfor the disreputable; but his reverence and delight for the glory andbeauty of praise seemed, as it were, to force him into guarding hispurity of life and innocence of mind, which might otherwise have beenperilled by his geniality and love of enterprise. At any rate, afterthe first shock to health and spirits had passed off, he retaineda more staid manner, entirely abstained from his former plentifuladmixture of slang, caught more of Felix's demeanour, and ceased fromthose kinds of sayings and doings which used only not to give hissisters an impression of recklessness because they knew he always didrectify his balance in time.

  Meantime another interest arose; for John Harewood had got hispromotion, and had obtained leave to come home and try for anappointment. Wilmet had reason to believe him actually on his journey,when one morning, early in October, Lance, who was waiting in theoffice, was startled by Will's entrance, asking, 'Have you had atelegram?' in a scarcely audible voice.

  'No! What is it, Bill?' said Lance, dismayed at his countenance.

  'That dear Jack!' and thrusting two telegraph papers into his hand,Will threw himself down on the high desk, hiding his face, withlong-drawn gasps of anguished grief, to which he could only now ventureto give way; nor did Lance marvel, as he read--

  Rameses, Egypt, October 3rd, 2.30 p.m.

  Major Harewood to Rev. Christopher Harewood, the Bailey, Minsterham, England.

  Boiler explosion. Severe scald. No pain; probably will be none. Dearest love to W.W. and all. Poor Frank Stone killed.

  The other, which had arrived at the same time, was dated,

  6 p.m.

  Charles Chenu, Surgeon, to Christopher Harewood.

  Injuries not necessarily mortal, unless from extent. Wanted, good nurse, water-bed, linen, and all comforts.

  'There's more hope in that!' said Lance.

  'I have none! Don't you remember poor Tom the stoker?

  'Twas just what they said of him,' said Will, raising his face for amoment. 'And here they've sent me to tell Wilmet! I--O Lance, I justcannot do it. 'Tis bad enough at home!' and he lay over the desk again,almost convulsed with grief.

  'I will go and tell Wilmet,' said Felix, who had come in unperceived byhim, and received the telegrams from Lance. 'She is at Miss Pearson's.Is any one going to him, Will?'

  'My poor father!' gasped William. 'I don't believe it is any good! ButI shall go with him, unless--He sent me on to see whether she--Wilmetwould go. You won't let her, Felix? I must go on to see whether I canget a nurse at St. Faith's.'

  'I believe Wilmet will wish to go,' said Felix.

  'And be the best nurse,' added Lance.

  'If there were any nursing to do,' said William, looking at them inamaze. 'I haven't the least hope he can last till we can come out! Butmy father _will_ hope--that's the worst--and wants to have her ratherthan me. Don't tell her so, though; I don't know what I am saying. Onlyshe should not be persuaded to go! Oh, that it should come to this!'

  'I will leave him to you, poor fellow!' said Felix, beckoning Lance tothe door, as William again flung himself across the desk. 'I think shewill go, and that it will be better for her.'

  He was interrupted by the arrival of a telegraph boy with a message tohim in his editorial capacity, which threw more light on the accident.

  Telegram from Alexandria, October 4th, 7 a.m.

  Serious explosion of locomotive engine at Rameses, on the Suez and Alexandria line. Engineer and stoker killed. English officer injured, without hope of recovery.

  Felix gave it to his brother, and went on his melancholy way--seeingMiss Pearson first in her parlour, and then sending for his sister.

  Wilmet was just what those who knew her best expected. While there wasscope for action, she would never break down. She inferred at oncethat the surgeon expected the comforts he sent for to be of use, anddwelt upon Mr. Harewood's kindness in allowing her to accompany him.As soon as she arrived at home, she scolded William, and made himfind sense and hope, which in truth he had only lost when, insteadof having to support and comfort his impulsive mother and sisters, hecould afford to give way himself. He could now give a coherent accountof his father's plans. Mr. Harewood was hastily arranging matters athome, and would be on his way to Southampton by the last train. IfWilmet would go with him, she was to meet him at the station--eitherwith or without a nurse, as she might judge needful. Her decision wasagainst the nurse. She reminded Will that his brother had with him aChristian Hindoo servant, who had already proved an efficient attendantin an attack of fever; and she herself had some experience of scalds,through Felix's accident, and one that had befallen a servant of MissPearson's. Expense, the prostrate despair of the family at home, andhis own college duties, had alike decided that if she went out, Williammust remain in England; but he was despatched to St Faith's, where theneedful appliances were always kept, and could be made over in such anemergency.

  Meantime Wilmet, grave but steadily calm, made her preparations. Shedevised means of providing a substitute at Miss Pearson's, bethoughtherself of everything requisite; and when Geraldine pursued her,trying to help, but panting and sobbing nervously, it was only to beput down on a chair, and warned not to knock herself up. The keys weremade over to her, but without directions or injunctions; only one softwhisper--'Dear Cherry! after all, you have made me able to do this.'

  Felix would not be denied going to Southampton with her. Mr. Harewoodwas looking out for her at the station, with the resolute mask ofindifference that both must assume for the journey. He took both herhands, and said, 'Thank you, my dear; I knew I should see you.' And shesaid, 'Thank you, for letting me come.' Then she took charge of hisplaid and umbrella, and it was plain that thenceforth she would be hisguardian daughter.

  When Felix and William left the two on board the Havre boat, they knewthat the Wilmet of old was gone for ever. She must come back with agreat change upon her; but who could guess whether that change would befor weal or woe?

  On went Mr. Harewood and Wilmet by steamer and by rail, unable toobtain intelligence, and maintaining absolute silence on the onethought that filled their minds, each solicitously tender of theother's comfort and fatigue, though both tacitly agreed that nothingwas so trying as a halt.

  When they reached Marseilles, they found the P. and O. agency certainthat if Major Harewood were not living it would be known; and theylikewise learnt that Rameses was a sort of little French colonyaround a station that the works for the Suez Canal were raising to animportance it could hardly have enjoyed since
it was a treasure cityof Pharaoh; and, while obliged to await their steamer, they obtainedcounsel on the articles likely to be most needful for their patient,and hence they telegraphed an announcement of their coming, and werereplied to by the Hindoo servant, Zadok Krishnu--'Not worse.'

  At Alexandria they found themselves expected and welcomed. Interestedcountenances and sympathising greetings were ready for the fatherand supposed sister at both consulate and hotel; and from the nameof the engine-driver, Frank Stone, who had been killed, Mr. Harewoodperceived that John must have recognised in him a clever Minsterhamboy, and this accounted for his having joined him on his engine, whereindeed it was suspected that he had been trying to help him obviatethe dangers caused by Oriental indifference and fatalism. The injurieswere regarded as hopeless, from the great extent of surface; and therewas a kind preparatory intimation that all that could be hoped for wasto find life not extinct, for that opiates were required to such adegree that there was no consciousness. M. Charles Chenu was a cleveryoung French doctor; and a deaconess from the Alexandrian branch fromKaiserswerth was in attendance, as well as an Englishman who had beenin the train, and all the alleviation possible had been given.

  That was all the comfort to be had while waiting for one of the few andtardy trains, which at length set the travellers down at the strangelittle town of European houses and Arab hovels in the midst of thesand, distinguished by a boulevard and line of palm trees. At thestation stood a short brown-faced figure, in white turban and trousers,and scarlet tassel, sash, and jacket, who with a salute half military,half Oriental, inquired in good English for their luggage, and in replyto their anxious questions, told them that the Sahib was lying in thesame state of unconsciousness produced by opiates.

  The goods, so needful to the sufferer, were all identified, andextracted at a great cost of patience, and the travellers wereescorted, amid incomprehensible Arab clamours, across a _place_ankle-deep in sand, to a one-storied building of such unburnt bricksas the Israelites might have made, covering a good deal of ground, andcombining the caravanserai and the French hotel. A Greek landlord andhis French wife came forth, and the one talking all languages, theother only her mother tongue, but both warmly welcoming the arrivals,and assuring them that _le pauvre Monsieur_ had had every care lavishedon him--Dr. Chenu was there night and day.

  A slender, moustached, brisk young man appeared, asking in French, in akindly tone, whether they--especially Mademoiselle--could be preparedfor so sad a sight as awaited them, but assuring them that the merefact of life having so long continued had begun to inspire him with asort of hope.

  Mr. Harewood's French was not very available, but Wilmet made reply;and they were admitted into a low empty room, with windows shadedby screens of reed, through which came a dim light, showing a stillfigure, covered with light linen rags steeped in oil and spirit, whicha little square figure in dark blue, with a neat net cap, was changingand renewing as fast as they dried.

  All the preparation could not prevent the father from beingoverwhelmed, and having to turn away to grapple with the shock; butWilmet, who had all along sustained herself with the recollection ofJohn's reference to her awakening Lance from his deadly lethargy,without pause or shyness bent down, kissed his forehead, and calledhim by his name; and perhaps the full sense of his entire prostrationonly broke upon her when there was not the slightest token that shewas heard, but the torpor continued unbroken by the faintest movementof the half-closed eyes or lips. Even then she only looked up with apiteous appealing glance to the doctor, who told her that the onlychances of consciousness were in the intervals between the passing offof one anodyne and the administration of another, but that hithertothese had been spent in a sort of delirium of anguish, that made therenewal of the opiate immediately necessary.

  Hope that at least the familiar voices might penetrate through thecloud still buoyed the new-comers up; but when the moans, restlessness,and half-utterances of dire suffering set in, the eyes opened to dimglassiness, the ears seemed neither to hear nor understand, and therewas as much relief as disappointment when the slumberous potion hadagain brought back the senselessness. Nothing could be done but tomoisten the lips and change the rags, and these seemed to dry up onone part as fast as another was renewed. The face had indeed escaped,and so had the back, and for the most part the right side, but theneck, chest, both shoulders, and the whole length of the left side werefearfully scalded, with white sodden-looking spaces, the most fatalappearance of all, worse than even a deep laceration by a splinterabove the hip. Day and night Wilmet, the deaconess, and the Hindoowere changing the rags, and fanning, or keeping off the flies; andsoon there was a great affection between Sister Hedwige and the youngEnglishwoman, who shared the same desolate room close adjoining--orrather, lay down there by turns. Wilmet spoke German enough to explainthat she was not the patient's sister, but his _Verlobte_, and that ina matter-of-fact, dreamy kind of way, submitting passively to be kissedand cried over by the puffy little elderly German.

  Poor Mr. Harewood could give no active assistance, and was in a sadstate of isolation, unable to exchange a sentence with anybody exceptWilmet and Krishnu. He tried Latin and French with the doctor; butthe diversities of accent foiled him in both, and Wilmet had to beinterpreter. He was a great charge to her, but a far greater comfort.There were his constant prayers, and the sight and example of his deepresignation; there was the sense of protection and sympathy, the reliefand distraction of attending to him, and of gratitude for his care; andbesides, he wrote all the letters, for which Wilmet had neither timenor heart. She could keep up while acting, instead of realizing, as theexpression of words must have forced her to do; while the struggle inthe father's mind, was only not to long unsubmissively for a consciousinterval at the last.

  An English army surgeon, who came from Malta a day or two after theirarrival, thoroughly approved of M. Chenu's treatment, but agreed in hisverdict that any other expectation would be futile; recovery, thoughnot impossible where no vital part was injured, was most improbablewhere nature had so large a surface to repair.

  Yet the actual symptoms that would have been immediate doom did notappear, but as one dim sad day rolled by after another, the partsleast hurt began to show a tendency to heal; and therewith sprangup a conviction in Wilmet's mind that there was not always a totalinsensibility to her presence or Mr. Harewood's, but that the facechanged at their voices, and that there was a preference for her hand;and then Dr. Chenu began declaring that these English had 'complexions'like rocks, and that if it were not 'the impossible,' there would behope; and instead of giving his anodynes with the reckless desire tostifle pain, he become cautious, modified them, and only gave them whendecisively expedient.

  There resulted a gradual clearing of the senses. There were lulls whenpain was comparatively in abeyance, and the faculties less and lessclouded, the eyes regained meaning, and smiles of greeting hovered onthe lips; a sense of repose in the presence of Wilmet and his fatherwas evident; an uneasy perception if either were absent; and at last anexchange of words--conscious words. When his awakening was marked, notby a groan of pain, but by the feeble inquiry, 'Where's Wilmet?' shefelt as if she had had her reward.

  Once he asked 'Where's your brother?' and when she explained that noneof her brothers were with her, he seemed confused and dissatisfied; buthis voice died into an indistinct murmuring; and when twice again thesame inquiry recurred, she set it down to the semi-delirious delusionsthat the narcotics sometimes occasioned. She knew that an Englishgentleman had done much for him at first, and had only left him the daybefore her arrival; and she had regretted being unable to discover whohe was from lips unused to British nomenclature, but had been too muchengrossed to think much about the matter. But there were now intervalsin which she fully had her John again, entirely sensible, anxious topreserve his consciousness, so as to be desirous of putting off thesedative as long as he could endure the attacks of suffering withoutit. He could listen, and sometimes talk; and the next time he returnedto the p
uzzling question, 'When did your brother go?' there could be nodoubt that he was in full possession of his understanding; and Wilmetanswered, 'Dear John, I do not know what you are thinking of; Felix hasnever been here at all.'

  'I do not mean Felix; it was Edgar.'

  'Edgar! You never have seen him, you know, dear,' said Wilmet, speakingsoftly, as one persuaded that he was recalling a delusion.

  'I know that I never saw him at home; but he was in the train. He wasthe first to come to me; he said he would telegraph. Surely he did so?'

  'That accounts for the correctness of the telegram!' said Mr. Harewood.'I remember now that the wording was so well put, that it gave me hopethat you must be quite yourself.'

  'What was it?'

  They could well tell him, for it had seemed branded in fire on theirminds for days.

  'Yes, that was his doing. I think I only called you _her_,' he said,smiling. 'I could trust to his knowing my _her of hers_.'

  'But how did you know one another? Was it in the train?'

  'No. Poor Frank Stone recognised me at Suez, and begged me to come withhim on the engine. I remember his consulting me about representing theimpracticability of some of his subordinates; and next after that I wassomewhere on the stones, unable to stir hand or foot--not in pain, buta numbness and faintness all over me, with every sense preternaturallyclear, as if I were all spirit. I made no doubt I was dying fast;and when some one came to see after me, I begged him to take down mytelegram to my father while I could give it. I remember his start andcry when I gave my name. "Good Heavens!" he said. "You are not Jack?Wilmet's Jack?" and really, I hardly knew; my voice seemed to come fromsomewhere else; but I saw the face over me that belongs to you all.'

  'And did you speak to him? But no, you were in no state for that.'

  'I gave what messages I could think or speak; but the numb faintnessgrew on me, and seemed to gather up all my senses. I did not seem ableto care about anything when I felt myself in his hands.'

  'Edgar!' repeated Wilmet, still slow to believe. 'Did you call him byhis name?'

  'I cannot tell; I think I did. I know I no more doubted of its beinghe than I do that you are Wilmet. Ah! I remember struggling betweena sense that I ought, and the growing disinclination to speak, andwanting to tell him to go home, for you were all very unhappy abouthim. Did I get it out? Did he answer? I cannot tell! No, dearest, Iknow no more, nor why he is not here. Zadok must know; where is he?'

  The Hindoo was summoned, and it was elicited that the English gentlemanhad watched over the Sahib day and night, sent the telegrams, calledin the doctor from Malta, and had acted as if the patient had beenhis brother, only going away by the last train before the arrival ofMr. Harewood, and then leaving with him a packet only to be given upin case the Major should die without recovering the power of speech.It was claimed, and proved to contain a record of all that poor Johnhad endeavoured to say, but written in a disguised hand, though merelyin the spelling of the names betraying that the scribe had been nostranger. It was plain that he had so entirely thought Major Harewooda dying man, as to have made no attempt at concealing his own identityfrom him, but he had kept it carefully guarded from every one else; andWilmet's heart smote her as she questioned, 'Would he have fled if ithad been Felix or Cherry who had been coming?'

  Questions were asked, and both M. Chenu and Madame Spiridione testifiedthat the gentleman who had attended on Major Harewood had been _unjeune homme extremement beau--grand et blond_, but they had no guess asto his name, and merely knew that he had gone away towards Alexandria.Both there and at Cairo did Mr. Harewood write to make inquiries, butalways in vain; and the trains were so few and so slow, that he couldnot go himself without a longer absence than seemed fitting to proposein his son's precarious state, when the very efforts that nature wasmaking towards restoration might so easily result in fever, or in fatalchanges in the wounds.

  The sight of him seemed to be only less precious to John than that ofWilmet. When in comparative ease, it was almost a basking in theirpresence. After his long years of foreign service, no one could guess,he said, the delight it was to look at them; and when he meditatedon the journey they had taken for his sake, he would break out inwondering gratitude, not to be checked by Wilmet's simplicity ofprotest, 'Of course she had come; she could not help it.'

  The pleasure and comfort she gave him were really serving to bear himthrough. Not only was her touch unusually light, firm, dextrous, andsoft, but pain from her hand was not like that given by any one else,when each dressing was tortured; and when his nerves were strung toan acute misery of sensitiveness, her look and touch, her voice andgesture alone were endurable. His first powers of being entertainedwere shown when she talked, or sang, not indeed as her brothers couldsing, but in a low, sweet, and correct voice, that had an infinitecharm of soothing that weary sickness. He might strive not to beexacting; but his face showed in spite of himself that when she quittedthe room the light of his life went with her, and there was nothingleft him but tedium, helplessness, and sore suffering.

  She only did leave him for sleep, which she could usually time while hewas lulled by the anodyne, and for hurried meals at the table d'hote,which collected almost every European in the place. Mr. Harewoodlikewise made a great point of taking her out every evening for a sandywalk on the boulevard under the palm trees, as a preservative of herhealth, much to the perplexity of the observers. She saw no necessityfor leaving John, to plough her way in the hot sand; but it relievedthe Librarian's mind, and was besides their opportunity for discussingquestions not intended for their patient's ear.

  Here it was that Mr. Harewood communicated his difficulty. He hadexchanged one course at the cathedral, but could not arrange for thenext, and it was imperative that he should be at home by the end of thesecond week in the New Year. John, though they dared now to call himbetter, was still immovable, and what could be done? 'Shall I,' saidthe Librarian, 'telegraph to William to bring out Lucy or Grace?'

  'Would that be of any use?' said Wilmet, thinking only of theirscatter-brained recklessness in Lance's case.

  'They have not your faculties of nursing, my dear; but you see, I don'tperceive how otherwise to contrive for your remaining.'

  'Mine! I must stay!' exclaimed Wilmet, her little proprieties mostentirely vanished into oblivion.

  'I knew you would say so. Indeed, I still think nothing else gives ahope of pulling my poor boy through; but in that case, you see, mydear, one of the girls--or their mother--'

  'She would be very uncomfortable, and all for nothing,' said Wilmet;'and William would lose his term. You know,' and only then the colourflew into her cheeks, 'I could do very well alone if you were only tomarry us.'

  With such simplicity and straightforwardness was it said, that theLibrarian had replied, 'The very best plan,' before the strangenessstruck him, and he began to falter, 'You have--John has settled it?'

  'No,' said Wilmet, crimson, but grave, steady, and earnest, 'it wasonly this that made me think of it; but if it can be managed withouthurting him, it seems to me the most feasible way.'

  This form of speech of course only proceeded from unfathomable depthsof affection and reserve, and it was understood.

  'Dear child,' said Mr. Harewood, 'this is the truest kindness of all. Iwill not thank you. You and I are too much one with him for that; but Iwish his mother could have known what he has won.'

  Soft silent tears were dropping fast under Wilmet's broad hat.Maidenliness would have that revenge; and she could not speak.The question of broaching the subject to John overwhelmed herwith embarrassment and shamefastness, at the thought of her ownextraordinary proceeding. Perhaps an impulse might have led her intoproposing it to him, as she had done to his father, but the bare ideaof so doing filled her with shame and dismay; and Mr. Harewood, aceremonious and punctilious gentleman of the old school, thought itincumbent on him to lead his son to make the proposition, so that itmight come at least in appearance from the right quarter.

  He had to
watch his opportunity, for John was by no means alwaysfit for conversation, and when he was, was not willing to dispensewith Wilmet's presence; and it was necessary at last to come to, 'Iwant to speak to you before she comes back;' and then, having calmedthe restless eye that watched for her, the Librarian explained thenecessities that called him home: and these were fully appreciated bythe Major, who owned that it had been much to have had him for thesesix weeks, but therewith came a look of alarm, and the exclamation,'Oh, but how about her?'

  'She does not think of leaving you. We must consider how to arrange forher.'

  'Has not Clement finished his terms? Could not he be franked out?'

  'Is there not a simpler way? John, nothing would make me so happy as toleave that dear girl your wife.'

  'But you go before the New Year. Father, it is not to be thought of,'he said, with a nervous movement of his right hand, which he could nowpartially use.

  'There is no reason that I should not marry you as you lie there. Shewould consent.'

  'Dearest! she would consent to anything she thought good for me, butthe more reason that it cannot be thought of. Look at the wreck I am,and the glorious creature she is.'

  'She would not accept that objection.'

  'The more need that I should. Even if this place in my side do not,as I expect from day to day, gangrene and make an end of it at once,it can hardly be expected that there will not be some contraction ordistortion to make an object of me.'

  'Does Chenu tell you this?' asked his father, who had never had thechances so plainly set before him.

  'No. Chenu does as well as any one can; but he has not the gift offoresight, and there is no use in taxing his French complaisance byasking questions that no one can answer,' he answered, with quiet calmand patience that almost overcame his father.

  'I did not think you were so despondent,' he said.

  'I do not think I am despondent,' was the reply; 'I feel as if I hadonly to lie here and wait my orders from above. I suppose weakness andsedatives blunt the feelings, for I do not regret all that might havebeen, as I should have thought I should--nay, as I did, in one night offever in India. I can only feel thankfulness for intervals like this,and the blessing of having you both with me again. Father, I would nothave spoken out, but that I thought you knew it better than I.'

  'So I do--so I ought, my dear boy; but I cannot cease to hope thatyour having been so far given back to us is an earnest that God willentirely restore you.'

  'That may be yet, but in the uncertainty, it hardly seems right to takeadvantage of my darling's devotion to bring on her so terrible a blightin her youth and loveliness. Sending her home a widow, Father!'

  'Poor child! There would be little difference in her grief; and youshould take into consideration that even so, you would leave her freedfrom the necessity of working at that school.'

  'I could do that, without injustice to Will and the girls; and therewould be a pension besides,' said John thoughtfully; and his fatherventured to add--

  'Indeed, I think if your recovery were as partial as you would have meapprehend, it would still only be a matter of time.'

  'She would have her eyes open,' said John; but he thought long beforehe spoke again. 'I cannot trust myself to think of it! It is so greata temptation! My Wilmet! my darling! to waste her strong young life onme!'

  Mr. Harewood said no more. He had experience enough to believe suchthings worked themselves out without interposition; and he would haveregarded it as compromising Wilmet's dignity and confidence alike tomention her words. He left the room when she returned, but nothingresulted. John was restless and uncomfortable; and Wilmet, thinkinghe had heard all, and deemed her forward, was unhappy, and would havebecome shy, if his perturbation had not brought on feverishness; andthat as usual inflamed the hurts into such acute pain, that the doctorgave a stronger opiate than had been needed of late, but which at firstonly produced distress, moaning, and wandering. They were more anxiousabout him that night and all the next day, than they had been formore than a week; and only towards the second morning did he becometranquil enough to fall into slumber, which lasted so late into thefollowing day, that Wilmet, after being up all night, was persuaded tolie down during the noonday heat, when she had seen his sleep becomemore natural, and the distressful expression relax on his countenance.

  She lay on her bed in a kind of waking doze, sad, anxious, and vexedat what she thought the consequence of the proposal into which she hadbeen betrayed, feeling desolate, and dreading as much as she desired asummons to return.

  Sister Hedwige did not call her till she had had more refreshing sleepthan perhaps she was aware of; and then, when she came softly into theroom, his eyes shone wistfully into hers, and she knelt down by him tostroke back that stiff sandy hair of his, and cool his brow with herfreshly-washed hand. He lifted his as far as he could, inviting her toclasp it; his eyes again looked into hers, and a smile came out uponhis face. 'My father has put a very wonderful thing into my head,' hesaid; then, as the lovely colour deepened on her cheek, 'can it be so,Wilmet?'

  In her own calm way she answered, 'Do you not think it will be the bestway?'

  'For me? No doubt of that, my dearest, sweetest, best darling!' and thefeeble force of his fingers somehow caused her brow to bend down to hisfervent kiss. 'You look as lovely as--no, ten times lovelier than youdid on the stile when you scolded me for telling you so. Why don't younow?'

  'Because I am glad my face is a pleasure to you,' she said, glowing, soas to deserve his words, in spite of the effects of her long vigil.

  'Ah! sick people are privileged to be foolish to their heart's content.But, Wilmet, let us be wise for once. This must not be till you havecounted the cost.' And he repeated what he had said to his father ofthe likelihood of permanent effects being left.

  'You would want me all the more,' she said.

  'And you?'

  'I should want all the more to be with you.'

  Again he smiled fondly on her. 'And more, my love. How easily I maybe a little worse than yesterday, and then you would have to go homealone.'

  'These things are for always,' said Wilmet; and the tears she hadresolved against came in crystal veils over her eyes, and it was vainto squeeze them out.

  'I am conquered,' said John, half quaintly, because he was afraid ofemotion. 'Here is a hand, at least! My father must manage the rest. Ican only be the most glad and thankful of men. Love, this is worth itall!' as she tenderly smoothed his hair with her soft hand in the wayhe liked so well.

  'And oh! how nice it will be as you get better!'

  'I can believe I shall, much more than I have hitherto done,' returnedhe. Then after a happy pause, while she still stroked his head, andthey looked into one another's faces with hearts swelling with unspokenprayers, he added, 'But of one thing I must and will be sure--of yourbrother's free consent.'

  She was so sure of it herself, that she only smiled at him; but hiswas a sort of soldierly punctilio that forbade the profiting by herdevotion without the sanction of her family, and his father supportedhim in it, and wrote from his dictation, detailing the provision whichhe was making for Wilmet in case of his death and begging for a replyby telegraph, since there was not time for Mr. Harewood to wait for ananswer by post, then signing it, with great effort, with three crookedinitials.

  There could be no doubt as to the answer; and Wilmet went about herpreparations with her own peculiar modest dignity. The 'belle Mees'had been a marvel to the French part of the community ever since M. ledocteur had shrugged his amazement at _une grande Anglaise magnifique,mais blonde et fade,_ coming out instead of a professional _gardemalade_, and then found by experience that her hand and head, hernerve and gentleness, equalled those of the most skilful _soeur_ withwhom he had ever been thrown. And when it slowly dawned on him whatwere her relations with the Major, his wonder at English institutionsknew no bounds. He would have adored her beauty, which grew on him assomething marvellous, if he had not been a little afraid of anything solo
fty and so still, and so incapable of airy chatter, as he found herat the _table d'hote_. She produced on him something of the effect ofthe Pallas of the Parthenon, come across from Athens to undertake hispatient, or the goddess Neith as John sometimes called her, when helay watching her swift needle.

  The Deaconess understood her better. Wilmet was much more nearlythe stately Teutonic maiden than the Grecian divinity; and SisterHedwige had had her days of romance, and beheld a Velleda in thenoble, self-possessed, helpful woman, who was equal to any of theFliedner disciples in resource and firmness. The German mind, too,appreciated the betrothal tie; and when Wilmet, who had grown veryfond of the kindly, homely _Schwesterchen_ consulted her about sendingto Alexandria for the bridal white that must not be denied to John'seyes, she wept with joy, promised the willing aid of the Deaconess'establishment in procuring all she needed, and, moreover, a wreath fromthe myrtle they nourished in memory of home.

  Wilmet's commission was not needed. She found one of the big boxesthat had been in use as tables and seats opened; and Zadok diving intoit under the Major's directions, and turning out parcels innumerable,among which appeared a snowy mass of India muslin, exquisitely fine andcovered with delicate embroidery.

  'There, Wilmet, you know what that is for.'

  And with all the good-will in the world, Madame Spiridione volunteeredFrench counsel in the cutting out, and Sister Hedwige German needlingin the making; and Zadok, sitting cross-legged at the door, provedhimself equal to any sewing-machine, and worked faster and better thaneither of the European nationalities, as indeed he was the son of a_dirjee_, or embroiderer-man, and had learnt some of his trade, thougheducated at a Mission school.

  Dr. Chenu half despised, half envied the convenience of being marriedwithout the production of the registers of baptism, or the consent ofeither of the mayors or the commanding-officer, and a mere telegram,'With all my heart,' from the elder brother; but still, Mr. Harewoodwas obliged to make an expedition to Cairo to arrange the formalitiesfor the registry of the marriage, for which the Consul promised to sendan official. The question was whether this gentleman should act asfather to the bride, whose choice otherwise lay between M. Spiridione,Dr. Chenu, and Zadok Krishnu, and who much inclined to the lastmentioned; but on the last day, by the very same train as brought thesecretary, an unexpected arrival took place.

  The one interest of Rameses was the arrival of the trains--few and farbetween. Mr. Harewood used to go out to count and report on the palefaces going westward, and the rosy young ones going eastward, and tocapture the mail-bags and parcels that connected this Egyptian desertwith the outward world. So seldom did any one halt, that he was amazed,not only to see the secretary, but a slender, black-bearded personage,portmanteau in hand, Panama hat on head, looking not indeed Oriental,but so un-English that it was startling to be accosted with, 'Goodmorning, Mr. Harewood; I hope your son is still going on well.'

  Then it flashed on the Librarian that this was the Life Guardsman whohad once ridden over to Minsterham as Alda Underwood's betrothed.

  'Mr. Travis! This is unexpected! You don't bring any bad news for MissUnderwood, I trust,' he added, taking alarm.

  'Oh no, far from it. I came to try to follow up this trail of poorEdgar. None of the family can,' he proceeded in a tone of apology; 'andas I have time, I can let no possibility go by.--But is it true, whatthey told me at Alexandria--that I am come just in time for a wedding?'

  'Indeed it is, but for a very strange one. I am forced to go home whenthat train returns; and that sweet girl will not--nay, cannot leave mypoor son. I hope it is not wrong in me to rejoice, turn out as it may.They will be delighted to see you.'

  Ferdinand was made very welcome. He was a breath from home that madethem feel how long they had been exiled. It appeared that he had beenat Paris, vainly seeking as usual, when he had received a telegram fromMiss Underwood, _i.e._ Marilda, and hurrying to England, had heard allthat could be gathered from Wilmet's letter; and here he was, intendingto pursue his inquiries in Egypt, and if needful extend his researchesto Palestine or India, according to whatever clue he might gain.

  Such exertions on the part of a stranger in blood were rathersurprising; but Ferdinand seemed to think no explanation needful,and perhaps his American contempt for space rendered the wonderless. At any rate, his coming was a great pleasure. He was almost abrother-in-law to Wilmet, and had belonged to old days in her life, andhe was intermingled with John's time of courtship at Bexley, so that toboth he was like a relation; and Mr. Harewood was much relieved by hispromise to remain comparatively within reach so long as it was possiblethat he could be of use to Wilmet or her convalescent, as they durstnot yet term the bridegroom.

  So, as John declared, the wedding was graced by representatives of allquarters of the world. It was on African soil, between two Europeans,and one spectator came from Asia, another from America, to say nothingof the lesser distinctions of France, Germany, Greece, Egypt, andArabia, nor of the mingling of Aztec, Spanish, American, and Englishblood in the veins of Ferdinand Travis.

  Bizarre as were the conditions, the marriage scene was very solemn andtouching. It had proved impossible to wait for Christmas Day, as hadbeen wished; so the 21st of December had been chosen, and the time, thecool early morning, before the heat of the day, and when light couldbe let in without glare or scorching, such as the noontide even ofmid-winter brought.

  The room was arrayed as on Sundays, not without thought of the firstPaschal Feast--kept at this very place and round about it--and Mr.Harewood had robed himself, and brought out the preparations he hadmade in case he should arrive in time for his son's last CommunionFeast, but which now served for that of his marriage.

  John had so far decorated himself that he had caused M. Spiridione totrim his hair, and shave all but his habitual red moustache. There wasnot much possibility of alteration in his spare, freckled, sunburntface; and his condition was chiefly evident in the prone motionlessnessof his figure on the water bed, covered by a bright striped silk quilt,outside which lay one wasted hand, still scarred and stiff. He wasstriving to be calm and passive; but every now and then his fingerstwitched, and the muscles of his face quivered with strong emotion, sothat the doctor, standing behind in military uniform, with moustacheswaxed into standing out like a cat's, was anxiously watching him.Krishnu, resplendent in white, red, and gold, was on the other side,with an English Prayer-book, and over a chair his master's uniformcoat and medals, of which he would not be denied the display. Theretoo was the Greek, in his unbecoming Frank courier dress, and a fewspectators who had crept in at the unclosed door for the strange sightof the English wedding.

  Wilmet's matter-of-fact nature and freedom from self-consciousness weregreat auxiliaries to her composure. Living always in the work at hand,severance from home did not come prominently before her, and still lessthe strangeness of giving herself, on her own responsibility, in aforeign land, to one who could scarcely raise a finger to accept her,and whose life hung on a thread. Of the lookers-on she never thought;she could only recollect that she was qualifying herself for the entirecharge of John, and the only eyes she thought of were that one pair ofpale greenish-hazel ones, but for those she took as much pains as Aldahad done to face a world of gazers.

  The snowy soft flow and straight folds of the muslin, beneath the greenwreath on her classical braids of light brown hair, far better becamethe straight outline than the glossy satin, lace flutter, and formalwreath, of the London bride. The eyelids cast down, the heightenedcarnation, and trembling lip, rendered her grand beauty as modestlytender as it was majestic, when Ferdinand Travis led her forward,followed by the sober-suited Deaconess, by Madame Spiridione in aParisian cap, and her little boy in full Greek costume.

  Poor Fernan! he had eagerly undertaken the service he was to renderto Wilmet, but it must have been a sad reminder of his own vanishedhopes; and as he led her forward, his slight but fine form, noble castof features, and clear dark colouring, so fully equalled her in goodlooks, that he see
med a more fitting match for her than the feeblehelpless bridegroom, never at his best _extremement beau_.

  However, no such thought crossed the minds of the parties most closelyconcerned as Wilmet knelt by the bedside--knelt at times when she oughtto have stood, or her hand would not have been within the reach ofthe poor weak one over which her long soft fingers seemed to exercisecherishing guidance, with that sense of power and protection she hadbeen used to wield through life. But though her hand was the firmer,and less nervous, it was a much stronger, clearer, steadier voicethan could have been looked for, as if manly tenderness overcame allphysical prostration, in which John Oglandby took Wilmet Ursula to behis wedded wife, rising into power and energy, as though even then theimpulse of guarding, protecting, supporting, love were strengtheninghim; and Wilmet, on the other hand, quiet and steadfast though shewas, had her eyes swimming in tears, which now and then stole down anddropped unawares on his coverlid, and the tone, though not broken orfaltering, was low and choked with intensity of purpose and of prayer.'Till death us do part,' which he had said so gravely and steadily,came from her with nearly failing breath, as though the words almosttook away her resolution.

  But the Psalm and the Blessing brought back her calmness, and there hadnever been any trembling in the hand that held her husband's; therewas only thankful affection in the eyes that gazed at him while shestill knelt on, and all left the chamber except the faithful friend andfaithful servant, who were to share with the newly-married pair theholiest of feasts. And strangely enough, if Wilmet and her home wereclosely interwoven with Ferdinand Travis's first admission to Christianprivileges, it had been Major Harewood's example and occasional wordsthat had first brought the teaching imbibed in a Mission school to bearthe fruit of true faith and confession thereof in Krishnu.

  So it was a really happy and peaceful wedding-day in that strangefar-away land; and John seemed rather the better than the worse forthe exhilaration of spirits, and the sense of secure possession hehad gained. He was so much delighted with Wilmet's bridal white, thathe grumbled if she tried to put on her former dresses, and her firstpersonal expense was the keeping up her stock--he loved so well to seeher moving about or hovering over him in her clear pure white folds.

  They were quite sufficient for one another; and Mr. Harewood left themby the next westward train. Ferdinand went to see him on board theAlexandrian steamer, and then continued to circulate in the hauntsof travellers, for the chance of Edgar having joined a Nile boat, orbeing sketching among the tombs of the Thebaid. Every now and then hereappeared at Rameses to report how some _barbe blonde_ he had beenhunting down turned out fiery red; and to communicate his hopes insome other direction. Suez was inquired through in vain; and he couldnot learn that any one of the name or description had gone to India.Indeed, that country seemed less likely to attract a man of Edgar'stastes than the picturesque and historical Levant; and his artistpowers and charm of manner made it not unlikely that he might have beenengaged to make sketches.

  One hope they had, which died away. The gentleman from the Consulatementioned that a party of vocalists had been giving concerts ofnational melodies to the European population at Cairo and Alexandria;and the description reminded Wilmet of last year's meteors. Indeed, itproved on inquiry that Stanislas and Zoraya Prebel were really amongthem, and that they had gone forward to the East, making a tour of theBritish dependencies; but when Ferdinand had with difficulty obtaineda sight of an old programme, and a description of the performers, itwas only to convince himself that Edgar could not have been among them.There was no name like his, and the songs that might have been his weresung at the very time when his _alibi_ could be proved at Rameses.

 

‹ Prev