Kate Vernon: A Tale. Vol. 2 (of 3), Mrs. Alexander [best sci fi novels of all time txt] 📗

to describe, and day after day brought further particulars, private letters, and all the copious information so abundantly supplied by that fourth estate of the British Empire, the public press. In many of these, Egerton's name was mentioned, always with praise, often with enthusiasm; his coolness and undaunted gallantry in some hand to hand encounters; and the desperate stand made by the regiment he commanded, under great disadvantages, left an impression of something chivalrous and heroic, even on the minds of strangers. Kate, indeed, calling to mind the maxims of Winter, and the organist, sometimes felt that she ought not to feel so much delight in a courage that, after all, is generally shared by every healthy man;[280] still, in spite of her reasoning, Egerton's image, invested with a prestige it never before possessed, constantly occupied her mind. Perhaps she did not know how dauntless was her own nature, and that there is irresistible attraction even to the most intellectual, in the courage, physical though it be, than can face death and danger, as if at home and at ease in the midst of both—this contempt of what it is natural to dread must partake more of the soul than philosophers allow, and is one certain element of greatness.

And so the winter slipped rapidly over; there was little to mark its flight; the constant sameness of occupation, without any incident to mark it, lent its wings to time; yet was it not all heaviness. A day of somewhat lighter spirits, and greater strength, would sometimes lend its brightening influence to the Colonel; and Kate revelled in the unwonted sunshine; or Langley would lend her some new work suggestive of much thought; and[281] clearing, for the moment, the mist which wraps itself round spiritual things, granting a passing glimpse, catching a faint echo of the glorious harmony with which all nature blends in the Great Creator's scheme of happiness; and then the sameness or obscurity, which an hour before seemed oppressive in its meanness, acquired dignity from the thought, that it had its place allotted in the mighty whole. And she would turn with perfect content to bend her bright intelligence to the perfect comprehension and performance of those every-day duties which act to society as mortar to a wall, filling up the crevices, binding the unadhesive parts, and keeping the whole together.

Two months had fully elapsed, since the news of the battle of —— had reached England; letters from the Winters had announced them safely settled at Pau, and charmed with it. And one cold, bleak evening, Kate was engaged arranging some lines she had selected from amongst many, written by Gilpin's sister,[282] to a very beautiful air bequeathed to her by the organist; the work did not progress as rapidly as it seemed, as her thoughts were divided by many mundane subjects, principally the necessity for looking out for cheaper lodgings.

"Nurse says it is so hard to manage; I must ask her to meet me to-morrow on my way home, and look for some other house—I mean rooms. I am afraid to mention it to dear grandpapa, he is so ill, and worn out with that dreadful cough—it is much worse to-day. How I wish Georgina would write! it is nearly a year since she invited us to join her at Florence, and talked of returning. Oh! how alone we are! I wonder shall I ever, ever live near my old friends, or among my own people again! God forgive the murmuring thought."

And here her reflections were broken by the Colonel, who suddenly starting from an uneasy slumber, coughed with more than usual[283] violence; then as Kate, with some vague idea of assisting him, flew to his side, it suddenly stopped, with a choking sound, and he fell back, the blood pouring from his mouth.

To summon nurse, to send for a doctor, was the work of a moment; and before their anxious efforts to recall the Colonel to consciousness were successful, he arrived; then there were innumerable questions to answer, and various restoratives to be procured; and Kate had literally no time to feel the terror and dismay which afterwards rushed upon her mind.

The old man lay long insensible; and it was during a pause, occasioned by the exhaustion of every remedy that could possibly be applied in haste, that he breathed faintly, at last, and opening his eyes, smiled, when he met those of his beloved grandchild. The doctor immediately forbad his speaking, and directed that every precaution for the preservation of extreme quiet around him should be taken.

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"This is the great point," he observed, when, after a lengthened visit, he was about to take leave. "I will write a prescription, and see it made up myself; he must take it every two hours, in a glass of port wine; but if he should be very sound asleep, do not disturb him; his strength must be kept up."

Kate took her station by her grandfather's bed-side. Nurse stationed herself in the next room; and the long watches of the night passed slowly over.

The Colonel lay motionless and deadly pale; but he did not sleep; for whenever Kate stole softly to his side, at the appointed times for his taking the medicine, he always, as if by instinct, opened his eyes; and who can tell, who can venture to depict the crowd of images, too vague for thought, too clear for dreams, which thronged Kate's mind, as she sat listening now to each scarce audible breath, from the invalid, now to the loud beating of her own heart; it was not fear or sorrow that[285] seemed to hold her faculties in a strange tension, but an agonised absorption in the present danger, a dread, none the less intense because it was vague, that her darkest hour was at hand! connected prayer was out of the question; but frequent ejaculations for help, for strength, rose unconsciously to her lips. Towards morning, the Colonel sank into a quiet, profound sleep, and leaving nurse in charge of him, with directions to call her the moment he awoke, Kate threw herself into his vacant chair, and strove to still her throbbing pulses, and hush her troubled spirit to repose.

When she had left her grandfather's room, she thought sleep was too effectually frightened away by the terrors of the past night; but the strength and vigor of youth cannot be so soon unstrung, rest is too natural to that age; and, though it was disturbed, slumber stole over her unconsciously, and day had dawned fully, when, waking with a start, and feeling as though her short absence from him was a neg[286]lect of a sacred duty, she stole softly and quickly to his room.

He had but just awoke, Mrs. O'Toole said; and now lay gazing with a troubled expression in his eyes, towards the door. He smiled when he saw Kate, and his lips moved; she stooped to hear, and he whispered, faintly but earnestly—"Write—Georgina," with a pause between each word.

"I understand, dearest grandpapa," said Kate, quickly, to relieve his evident anxiety. "I will write to Georgina Desmond by this day's post."

And a look of greater contentment gradually composed the invalid's countenance, which appeared so worn and haggard, that Kate's eyes filled with tears every time she looked at him.

The doctor called early, and expressed himself quite satisfied with Kate's account of the patient's past night; his pulse, too, was a little stronger.

"Endeavour to keep him quiet, and free[287] from anxiety; he is at present free from fever, and I should find some difficulty had we both fever and weakness to contend with; do not let him talk much."

The day wore slowly over, like the night, diversified only by the writing of the promised letter to Lady Desmond; and the Colonel seemed much easier when he was told it had been despatched.

Soon the cares and duties of the sick-room became matters of course; the Colonel decidedly gathered strength. He was able to converse a little with his grandchild without much exhaustion; and frequently made her read aloud to him. He never wearied of the Gospel of St. John, of the Psalms, and the seventh and concluding chapters of Revelation.

Nurse and Kate divided the night into two watches, the former taking the first watch, when the Colonel was most likely to sleep, and Kate, the remainder, to be ready with a few[288] sympathising words, when, after his broken sleep, his restless weakness caused him to move uneasily on his pillow; or to repeat in her low, soft tones, his favorite Psalms, and passages of the Gospels, when his eyes met hers with that anxious gaze which made her heart ache, so well did she understand its source. As for the apprehension of losing him, it was a thought on which she never dwelt for an instant. She felt instinctively, how utterly it would unfit her for the preservation of that calm, cheerful aspect so necessary to her beloved grandfather's well being; yet the terror-striking thought would press upon her mind in spite of all her efforts to repel it, when that troubled glance met hers by the dim, uncertain watch-light, and her lips almost of themselves whispered the words of comfort and of strength to which her heart turned, as much to still its own dread, as to calm the anxiety she feared would injure her grandfather!

Poor, faithful Mrs. O'Toole never told her[289] beads so fervently, and so often before; for loving both master and nurseling, she could fear for the future, to which Kate never gave a thought; her round, comely face faded from its bright rose to a yellowish tinge, and the corners of her mouth were drawn down lower than ever, while her aspirations to "Hesther," and her denunciations of "Hesther's stupidity," were rather encreased than lessened in acerbity, as if to make up for the enforced softness with which they were whispered.

It was about a fortnight after the Colonel was first taken ill, and he had begun to ask anxiously for letters, when he astonished the doctor, by expressing a desire to get up, and go into the sitting-room.

"My dear sir, it is much too soon; do you feel greater strength?"

"Sometimes I think I am stronger, and sometimes weaker," replied the old man, with a sigh; "but I feel I should be quite as com[290]fortable and quiet in my arm-chair, as in bed, and more cheerful, more like myself; you may as well humour me," he added, with a sad smile, and paused, exhausted by so long a speech.

"Well," returned the doctor, after a prolonged feeling of his pulse, in order to give himself time to think, "perhaps, as you feel in this way, it may do you no harm; wait till the day after to-morrow; and take plenty of arrow-root, and wine, and beef tea, in the interval."

Kate could scarcely believe her ears, when she heard the welcome permission given; she was not present when the Colonel asked for it, and considered it an undoubted proof of amendment. She looked so bright, and spoke so cheerily, when she announced the fact to nurse, that Mrs. O'Toole took courage to make a disclosure, she had withheld for several days.

"Ye know, Miss Kate," she began, her[291] apron folded round one arm, and rubbing the other hand confusedly up and down the table, "it's three days since last Sathurday."

"Yes, nurse. Well, what then?"

"Sathurday's rint day, alanah."

"Well, didn't you pay Mrs. Crooks?"

"Why ye see, Miss Kate, what wid the sickness, an' the arra-root, an' the beef tay, an' all that, though maisther Langley, the queen iv Heaven remimber it to him, sent in a sight of wine, what couldn't be bought for money, the purse is niver out iv yer hand; an' to spake the thruth, Miss Kate, last Sathurday, there was a fortnight's rint due; I niver thought a Christhian would go botherin' about sich a thrifle iv rint, an' sickniss an' sorra in the place; but they're quare Christhians here! Sure they'd hand you their 'little account,' if ye were sayin' mass for yer mother's sawl; it's a long account some iv thim will have to settle yet, any ways! an' that's the way it is, Miss Kate."

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"But, nurse, why did you let it go so far without——."

"Sure," interrupted, Mrs. O'Toole, in a whisper, and pointing her finger towards the door, as a caution to extreme secresy, "sure I hadn't it, agrah! d' ye think I'd be wastin yer money payin that naggur iv a woman, an' the dear masther wantin every thing? 'Och, keep yer bills to yerself, woman,' ses I, 'don't be tasing Miss Vernon, an' she breakin' her heart, sure ye'll be paid over an over as soon as she has time to write an ordher on the bank,' ses I, an' she kept quite a whole week, but to-day, she ses, 'The ould gentleman's better,' ses she, spakin small, as if she begrudged the words that would bring her 'no return,' as they say, 'an' I'll spake to Miss Vernon meeself,' ses she. Och, if I had mee own notes ye made Mr. Winter put in the savins' bank out iv the way, I'd have paid her at wancet, an' not be botherin ye."

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"Show me what you have," said Kate, rather nervously.

Mrs. O'Toole emptied the purse, she always kept; a half sovereign and