CHAPTER XIV.
"The dread of evil is the worst of ill."
On leaving the breakfast-room, Violet hastened back to the nursery; butthe captain, calling Max and Grace into her boudoir, said, as he tookthe little girl on his knee, and motioned Max to sit by his side,--
"I have some news for you, my children: can you guess what it is?"
"Something good, I hope, papa," said Max: "you look as if it was."
"I am very much pleased with my share of it," the captain said, smiling;"and I shall know presently, I presume, what you two think of yours.What would you like it to be, Gracie?"
"That my papa was never, never going away any more," she answeredpromptly, lifting loving eyes to his face.
"There couldn't be better news than that," remarked Max; "but," with aprofound sigh, "of course it can't be that."
"Ah! don't be quite so sure, young man," laughed his father.
"Papa, you don't mean to say that that is it?" queried Max breathlessly.
"I do: I have resigned from the navy, and hope soon to have a home readyfor my wife and children, and to live in it with them as long as itshall please God to spare our lives."
Tears of joy actually came into the boy's eyes; while Gracie threw herarms round their father's neck, and half smothered him with kisses.
"O papa, papa!" she cried, "I'm so glad, I don't know what to do! I'mthe happiest girl in the world!--or should be, if only the dear baby waswell," she added, with springing tears.
"Yes," he sighed: "we cannot feel other than sad, while she is sufferingand in danger. But she is a trifle better this morning, and we will hopethe improvement may continue till she is entirely restored."
"She's such a darling!" said Max; "just the brightest, cutest baby thatever was seen! Mamma Vi has taught her to know your photograph; and,whenever she sees it, she says, 'Papa,' as plainly as I can. She callsme too, and Lu. Oh! I don't know how Lulu could"--He broke off, withoutfinishing his sentence.
"Lu didn't do it on purpose," sobbed Gracie, pulling out herhandkerchief to wipe her eyes.
"No," sighed the captain: "I am quite sure she had no intention ofharming her little sister, yet she is responsible for it as theconsequence of indulging in a fit of rage; she feels that: and I hopethe distress of mind she is now suffering because of the dreadful deedshe has done in her passion, will be such a lesson to her, that she willlearn to rule her own spirit in future."
"Oh, I do hope so!" said Grace. "Papa, does Lulu know your good news?"
"No. I have not told her yet; and I intend to keep her in ignorance ofit for some days, as part of her deserved punishment. I do not want herto have any thing to divert her mind from the consideration of thegreat sin and danger of such indulgence of temper."
"You haven't quit loving her, papa? you won't?" Grace said, halfentreatingly, half inquiringly.
"No, daughter, oh, no!" he replied with emotion. "I don't know whatwould ever make me quit loving any one of my dear children."
He drew her closer, and kissed her fondly as he spoke.
"I am very glad of that, papa," said Max feelingly; "for though I domean to be always a good son to you, if I ever should do any thing very,very bad, I'd not be afraid to confess it to you. I could standpunishment, you know; but I don't think I could bear to have you give upbeing fond of me."
A warm pressure of the lad's hand was the captain's only reply at first;but presently he said, "I trust you will always be perfectly open withme, my dear boy. You don't think, do you, that you could have abetter--more disinterested--earthly friend than your father?"
"No, sir! oh, no, indeed!"
"Then make me your confidant," his father said, with a smile and lookthat spoke volumes of fatherly pride and affection; "let me into allyour secrets. Now that I am to be with you constantly, I shall take adeeper interest than ever in all that concerns you,--if that bepossible,--in your studies, your sports, your thoughts and feelings.You may always be sure of my sympathy, and such help as I can give inevery right and wise undertaking."
"I'll do that, papa!" Max exclaimed with a sudden, glad, lighting-up ofthe face. "Why, it'll be as good as having the brother I've often wishedfor!" he added with a pleased laugh; "better, in some ways, anyhow; foryou'll be so much wiser than any boy, and keep me out of scrapes withyour good advice."
"Papa," queried Grace, with a little bashful hesitation, "mayn't I haveyou for my friend too?"
"Yes, indeed, my darling little girl!" he answered with a hug and kiss."I should like to be quite as intimate with you as I hope to be withMax."
"With Lulu too?" she asked.
"Yes; with every one of my children."
Max had averted his face to hide his amusement at his little sister'squestion in regard to her father's friendship for herself, for thetimid, sensitive little girl could hardly bear to be laughed at; but nowhe turned to his father again with the query,--
"Papa, where are we going to live?"
"I don't know yet, Max," the captain answered; "but I hope to be able tobuy or build somewhere in this neighborhood, as I should be loath totake your mamma far away from her mother,--myself either, for thatmatter; and I presume you would all prefer to live near these kindfriends?"
"I am sure I should," said Max. "But, papa,"--he paused, coloring, andcasting down his eyes.
"Well, my boy, what is it? don't be afraid to talk freely to yourintimate friend," his father said in a kindly tone, and laying a handaffectionately on the lad's shoulder.
"Please don't think me impertinent, papa," Max said, coloring stillmore, "but I was just going to ask how you could live without your pay;as I have heard you say it was nearly all you had."
"I am not at all offended at the inquiry," was the kindly reply. "Theintimacy and confidences are not to be all on one side, my boy.
"I am quite willing you should know that am able now to do without thepay, some land belonging to me in the Far West having so risen in valueas to afford me sufficient means for the proper support of my family,and education of my children."
"Oh, that is good!" cried Max, clapping his hands in delight. "And if itis used up by the time I'm grown and educated, I hope I'll be able totake care of you, and provide for you as you do now for me."
"Thank you, my dear boy," the captain said with feeling; "the day maycome when you will be the stay and staff of my old age; but, howeverthat may be, you may be sure that nothing can add more to your father'shappiness than seeing you growing up to honorable and Christianmanhood."
"Yes, sir: it's what I want to do." Then, a little anxiously, after amoment's thought, "Am I to be sent away to school, sir?"
"I have not quite decided that question, and your wishes will have greatweight with me in making the decision. I shall keep Lulu at home, andeducate her myself,--act as her tutor, I mean,--and if my boy would liketo become my pupil also"--
"O papa! indeed, indeed I should!" exclaimed Max joyfully, as his fatherpaused, looking smilingly at him; "and I'll try hard to do you credit asmy teacher as well as my father."
"Then we will make the trial," said the captain. "If it should not provea success, there will be time enough after that to try a school."
"What about me, papa?" asked Grace wistfully, feeling as if she werebeing overlooked in the arrangements.
"You, too, shall say lessons to papa," he answered with tender look andtone. "Shall you like that?"
"Ever so much!" she exclaimed, lifting glad, shining eyes to his face.
"Now you may go back to your play," he said, gently putting her off hisknee. "I must go to your mamma and our poor, suffering baby."
He went; but the children lingered a while where they were, talking overthis wonderfully good news.
"Now," said Max, "if Lu had only controlled her temper yesterday, what ahappy family we'd be!"
"Yes," sighed Grace; "how I do wish she had! Oh, I'm so sorry for her,that she doesn't know this about papa going to stay with us all thetime! 'Sides, she's 'specting to be sent away s
omewhere; and howdreadfully she must feel! Papa's punishing her very hard, and very long;but of course he knows best, and he loves her."
"Yes, I'm sure he does," assented Max: "so he won't give her any morepunishment than he thinks she needs. It'll be a fine thing for her, andall the rest of us too, if this hard lesson teaches her never to getinto a passion again."
Capt. Raymond had intended going to Lulu early in the day; but anxietyabout the babe, and sympathy with Violet, kept him with them till latein the afternoon.
When at last he did go to his prisoner, he found her feverish withanxiety and fear for the consequences of her mad act of the day before.
She had been longing for his coming, moving restlessly about the room,feeling that she could not endure the suspense another moment; had atlength thrown herself into a chair beside the window, and, as was herwont in times of over-wrought feeling, buried her face on her foldedarms, laid on the window-sill.
She started up wildly at the sound of his step and the opening of thedoor.
"Papa," she cried breathlessly, "O papa! what--what have you come totell me? Is--is the baby"--
"She is living, but far from out of danger," he said, regarding her witha very grave, stern expression; but it softened as he marked the anguishin her face.
He sat down, and drew her to his knee, putting his arm about her waist,and with the other hand clasping one of hers.
He was startled to feel how hot and dry it was.
"My child!" he exclaimed, "you are not well."
She dropped her head on his shoulder, and burst into a passion of tearsand sobs. "Papa, papa! what shall I do if baby dies? Oh! I would do orbear any thing in the world to make her well."
"I don't doubt it, daughter," he said; "but a bitter lesson we all haveto learn is, that we cannot undo the evil deeds we have done. Oh! letthis dreadful occurrence be a warning to you to keep a tight rein uponyour quick temper."
"Oh! I do mean to, indeed I do," she sobbed; "but that won't cure thedear baby's hurt. Papa, all day long I have been asking God to forgiveme. Do you think he will?"
"I am sure that he has already done so, if you have asked with yourheart, and for Jesus' sake. But we will ask him again for that, and togive you strength to fight against your evil nature as you never havefought, and to conquer."
"And to make the baby well, papa," she added sobbingly, as he knelt withher.
"Yes," he said.
When they had risen from their knees, he bade her get her hat and coat,saying, "You need fresh air and exercise. I will take you for a walk."
"I'd like to go, papa," she said; "but"--
"But what?"
"I--I'm afraid of--of meeting some of the family; and--and I don't wantto see any of them."
"Perhaps we shall not meet them," he said; "and, if we do, you need notlook toward them; and they will not speak to you. Put on your hat andcoat at once: we have no time to lose."
She obeyed; and presently they were walking down the avenue, not havingmet any one on their way out of the house.
The captain moved on in silence, seemingly absorbed in sad thought, andhardly conscious that Lulu was by his side.
She glanced wistfully up into his grave, stern face two or three times,then said humbly, pleadingly, "Papa, please may I put my hand in yours?"
"Certainly," he said, looking down at her very kindly, as he took herhand, and held it in a warm, affectionate clasp. "Child, you have notlost your father's love. You are very dear to me, in spite of all yournaughtiness."
He slackened his pace, for he saw she was finding it difficult to keepup with him; and his attention was again attracted to the heat of herhand.
"You are not well, perhaps not able to walk?" he said inquiringly, andin tenderly solicitous accents.
"It is pleasant to be out in the air, papa," she answered; "but it tiresme a good deal more than usual."
"We will not go far, then," he said; "and, if your strength gives outbefore we get back to the house, I will carry you."
They were in the road now, some distance beyond the avenue-gates; and atthis moment a number of horsemen came in sight, approaching from thedirection opposite to that they were taking.
Perceiving them, Lulu uttered a sharp cry of terror, and shrank behindher father, though still clinging to his hand.
"What is it, daughter?" he asked in surprise: "what do you fear?"
"O papa, papa!" she sobbed, "are they coming to take me and put me inprison? Oh, don't let them have me!"
"Don't be frightened," he said soothingly. "Don't you see it is onlysome men who have been out hunting, and are going home with their game?"
"Oh! is that all?" she gasped, the color coming back to her face, whichhad grown deadly pale. "I thought it was the sheriff coming to put me injail for hurting the baby. Will they do it, papa? Oh! you won't letthem, will you?" she cried entreatingly.
"I could not protect you from the law," he said, in a moved tone; "but Ithink there is no danger that it will interfere. You did not hurt yoursister intentionally, and she is still living. You are very young too;and, doubtless, everybody will think your punishment should be left tome, your father."
She was trembling like a leaf.
He turned aside to a fallen tree, sat down on it, and took her in hisarms. She dropped her head on his shoulder, panting like a hunted thing.
"These two days have been too much for you," he said pityingly. "Andthat fear has tormented you all the time?"
"Yes, papa: oh, I thought I might have to be hung if baby died, and--itwas--so--dreadful--to think I'd killed her--even if they didn't do anything to me for it," she sobbed.
"Yes; very, very dreadful; perhaps more so to me--the father of youboth--than to any one else," he groaned.
"Papa, I'm heart-broken about it," she sobbed "Oh, if I only could undoit!"
He was silent for a moment; then he said, "I know you are suffering verymuch from remorse; this is a bitter lesson to you; let it be a lastingone. I can relieve you of the fear of punishment from the law of theland; there is no danger of that now: but, if you do not lay this lessonto heart, there may come a time when that danger will be real; for thereis no knowing what awful deed such an ungovernable temper as yours maylead you to commit.
"But don't despair: you can conquer it by determination, constantwatchfulness, and the help from on high which will be given in answer toearnest prayer."
"Then it shall be conquered!" she cried vehemently. "I will fight itwith all my might. And you will help me, papa, all you can, won't you,by watching me, and warning me when you see I'm beginning to get angry,and punishing me for the least little bit of a passion? But oh, I forgetthat you can't stay with me, or take me with you!" she cried with afresh burst of sobs and tears. "Must you go back to your ship soon?"
"Not very soon," he said; "and I gladly promise to help you all I can inevery way. I can do it with my prayers, even when not close beside you.But, my child, the struggle must be your own; all I can do will be of noavail unless you fight the battle yourself with all your strength.
"We will go home now," he added, rising, and taking her hand in his.
But they had gone only a few steps when he stooped, and took her in hisarms, saying. "You are not able to walk. I shall carry you."
"But I am so heavy, papa," she objected.
"No, darling: I can carry you very easily," he said. "There, put yourarm round my neck, and lay your head on my shoulder."
The pet name from his lips sent a thrill of joy to her heart; and it wasvery pleasant, very restful, to feel herself infolded in his strongarms.
He carried her carefully, tenderly along, holding her close, assomething precious that he began to fear might slip from his grasp. Shehad always been a strong, healthy child, and heretofore he had scarcelythought of sickness in connection with her; but now he was alarmed ather state.
"Are you in pain, daughter?" he asked.
"Only a headache, papa; I suppose because I've cried so much."
"I think I must have the doctor see you."
"Oh, no, no, papa! please don't," she sobbed. "I don't want to see himor anybody."
"Then we will wait a little; perhaps you will be all right again byto-morrow."
He did not set her down till they had almost reached the house; and hetook her in his arms again at the foot of the stairway, and carried herto her room, where he sat down with her on his knee.
"Papa, aren't you very tired, carrying such a big, heavy girl?" sheasked, looking regretfully into his face.
"No; very little," he answered, taking off her hat, and laying his coolhand on her forehead. "Your head is very hot. I'll take off your coat,and lay you on the bed; and I want you to stay there for the rest of theday; go to sleep if you can."
"I will, papa," she answered submissively; then as he laid her down, andturned to leave her, "Oh, I wish you could stay with me!" she cried,clinging to him.
"I cannot now, daughter," he said, smoothing her hair caressingly. "Imust go back to your mamma and the baby. But I will come in again tobid you good-night, and see that you are as comfortable as I can makeyou. Can you eat some supper?"
"I don't know, papa," she answered doubtfully.
"Well, I will send you some; and you can eat it, or not, as you feelinclined."
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