I daresay my stupid face exhibited more of astonishment than sympathy.

No wonder, thought I, that the doctor called Mr. Gerard a sectary, and that Mr. Long was so cold and distant in his manner!

"You seem surprised, Mr. Meredith, that my father should have acted thus--should have placed the tomb of his dear child where he can always come to weep and pray at it, and not amid the long dank gra.s.ses in Crittenden churchyard. Is it so very rare a thing to bury those we love elsewhere than in a churchyard?"

"I only know one other instance," said I, "and that is in the Heath family."

"Indeed," replied Miss Gerard, gravely, moving away as though not wishing to converse of ordinary things in that sacred neighbourhood, "I trust we have but little in common with them."

"Truly, I can scarcely imagine that you and they are of the same species," replied I, with irrepressible admiration, "you who do not even know what wickedness is!"

"What! I? Oh, but I am sometimes very, very wicked, I a.s.sure you,"

replied Miss Gerard. She looked so serious, nay, so sad, that I could have taken up her little hand and kissed it, there and then, to comfort her. But would such a course of conduct a.s.sist poor Marmaduke? thought I, and fortunately in time.

"There is one of the Heath family," said I, "at all events, whose good qualities will go far to atone for the shortcomings of his adversaries, if he only lives to exercise them."

That "if he only lives" I considered to be very diplomatic; it was enlisting a tender sympathy for his perilous condition to start with.

"Dr. Sitwell says that there is little danger," replied Miss Gerard, quietly.

"I know better," observed I, confidentially; "his life or death hangs upon a thread, a chance."

"Good heavens! Mr. Meredith, what can you mean? The brain, we are a.s.sured, is quite uninjured."

"My dear Miss Gerard," returned I, "it is not his brain that is affected; it is his heart. His recovery, I am positively certain, depends upon you."

"Upon me! Mr. Meredith?" replied she, while a blush sprung from neck to forehead on the instant, as though a white rose should become a red one--"upon me?"

"Yes, dear young lady; that is, upon you and your good father. This lad will find here, for the first time in his young life, peace and tenderness--a new existence, if you only choose, will expand around him, such as he has never even dreamt of. I do not ask you to be kind to him, for you cannot be otherwise than kind; but consider his sad condition--fatherless, motherless, and having for his only relative a wretch whose atrocity is unspeakable, what reason has he to wish for life? But you, you may teach him to feel that existence has something else to offer than sorrow, and shame, and fear."

"Alas, sir! I am nothing," returned Miss Gerard. "But if your friend desire a teacher to whom fear and shame are unknown, and whom sorrow has rendered wise, not sad, he will find one in my dear father. Oh, Mr.

Meredith, if you knew him as I know him, how tender he is as well as strong, you would go straight to him! What I have of help within me, if I have anything, is derived from him alone."

"There are some maladies," said I, "against which not the most skilful physician can avail without a gentle nurse to smooth the pillow. I am sure I need say no more, except to a.s.sure you that what ever kind offices you may bestow upon Marmaduke Heath, will not be wasted upon an unworthy object. He is most honourable, generous, warm-hearted--"

"And very fortunate," interrupted Miss Gerard, cordially, "in having a friend to be thus enthusiastic for him in his absence!"

Her eyes sparkled with pleasure; and she held out her hand frankly as she spoke. I took it, and pressed it for an instant. A shock of joy pa.s.sed through my frame; my whole being trembled with ecstasy. Pa.s.sion took me by storm, and for one glorious moment held the very citadel of my soul; but it was for the last time, believe me, Marmaduke, the last time in all my life. Fifty years have come and gone, with their full share of pleasure and pain, but have never brought a moment of bliss like that, nor such icy despair as the thought of thee, my friend, caused to succeed it!

I write not in self-praise. I was not so mad as to suppose that Lucy Gerard would have ever stooped to love Peter Meredith when once she had known Marmaduke Heath. If he had so endeared himself to me, a selfish boy, who knew not half his gifts, or, at least, knew not how to value them--that I thus rudely broke my own brief love-dream for his sake, would he not draw her towards him, laden with all her wealth of heart and brain, as the moon draws the wave! It was so afterwards; but I knew it then, as though it had already been. Yet, Marmaduke, yet I gave you something, for it was all I had, when I laid at your feet, to form a stepping-stone for you, my own heart. You trod upon it, my dear and faithful friend--But, thank heaven! you never knew that you did so. I wonder whether Lucy ever knew!

CHAPTER XII.

THE COUNCIL OF WAR.

On the second morning after our arrival at the Dovecot, Mr. Long called me into the dining-room, where I found Mr. Gerard and a third gentleman, who had come down by the night-mail, as I understood, from London.

Although, I should think, not less than seventy years of age, he was dressed in the height of the then prevailing mode. He wore a snuff-coloured coat, the tails of which trailed from his chair upon the ground, whenever he was so fortunate as not to be sitting upon them; the bra.s.s b.u.t.tons at his back were nearly as large as the handles of an ordinary chest of drawers. A bunch of seals, each about the size of that peculiar to the Lord High Chancellor of Great Britain, dangled from his fob. His pantaloons, which seemed to have shrunk in the washing, set off a pair of legs that were still not uncomely; but what was most remarkable was an enormous muslin cravat, which, in combination with the ruffles of his shirt, gave him the aspect of a pouter pigeon.

Unaccustomed as I then was to the toilet of persons of distinction, Mr.

Clint of Russell Square--for he it was--made a very strong impression upon me. As the family lawyer of the Heaths, and one who had always greatly interested himself in Marmaduke, he had been sent for by my tutor to give his opinion as to what steps should be taken respecting the future disposal of the poor lad. I guessed by his grave face that he had been put in possession, not only of all that had happened through the agency of Sir Ma.s.singberd, but of all that had been designed to happen.

"If you have any doubt still remaining, Mr. Clint, as to the propriety of removing Marmaduke Heath from the custody of his uncle," observed my tutor, after introducing me to this venerable beau, "I think this gentleman can dissipate it. Now, Peter, tell us, in confidence, what sort of footing do you consider your young friend and Sir Ma.s.singberd to stand upon; are they good--"

"Stop, stop, Mr. Long," interrupted the lawyer, taking an enormous pinch of snuff from a silver-box, and holding up his laden fingers in a prohibitory manner; "we must not have any leading questions if you please. Mr. Meredith, it is most important that you state to us the truth, without mitigation or exaggeration. You heard your tutor's first inquiry, which was a most correct one. How does Mr. Marmaduke Heath stand with respect to his uncle?"

"Well, sir," said I quietly, "he stands, as it were, upon the brink of a deep river, with his back towards a person who is bent upon pushing him in."

A total silence ensued upon this remark. Mr. Long and Mr. Gerard interchanged very meaning glances.

"Very good," returned the lawyer coolly, administering half the snuff to his nose, and dropping the other half among his shirt-ruffles. "That is a form of speech, I suppose, by which you would imply that Marmaduke is afraid of his uncle?"

"Very much," said I; "afraid of his life."

"And you have had no previous conversation upon this subject with either of these gentlemen, that is--you must forgive me if I press this somewhat hardly--they have never asked your opinion on the matter before?"

"Certainly not, sir."

"You are speaking, too, I conclude from your own observation of course, from your own knowledge of Mr. Marmaduke Heath's sentiments and position, and not from any hearsay rumour?"

"I am perfectly convinced, Mr. Clint," returned I gravely, "that Sir Ma.s.singberd Heath wishes to get rid of his nephew, and that Marmaduke knows it."

"Then Sir Ma.s.singberd shall be gratified," observed Mr. Gerard, with energy; "he shall get rid of him from this day."

"Stop, stop, my dear sir," interposed the lawyer. "Even supposing that all this is true, both the facts that I have received from you and Mr.

Long, and the surmises entertained by this young gentleman, we are still only at the threshold of the matter. From the manner in which Sir Ma.s.singberd expressed himself when he wrote to me to demand the custody of the boy, and from his whole conduct since, I am certain that he will not give up his position as guardian without a severe struggle. We must steadily look our difficulties in the face. Supposing that, having been a.s.sured of Marmaduke's convalescence, he should send a post-chaise over here next week, or the week after, with a note, insisting upon his immediate return to Fairburn Park, what is to be done then?"

"I should send the post-chaise back again," returned Mr. Gerard, calmly, "with the verbal reply, that Mr. Marmaduke was not coming."

"But suppose he wrote to Marmaduke himself?"

"The reply would come from me all the same, Mr. Clint."

"But if Sir Ma.s.singberd appeals to the law?"

"He dare not!" exclaimed my host; "his audacity, great as it is, stops short of that. If he did, as sure as the sun is shining, I would meet him with the charge of attempted murder."

Mr. Clint took out of his other coat-tail a second snuff-box, which he never made use of except in cases of great emergency. "You are prepared to go that length, are you?"

"I am, sir," returned Mr. Gerard, firmly.

"You have not a shadow of foundation for such an a.s.sertion," pursued Mr.

Clint, reflectively. "The slander will be p.r.o.nounced malicious; you will be cast in swingeing damages."

"That is possible," remarked my host; "but there, nevertheless, will be such revelations of Sir Ma.s.singberd's mode of life, as may well cause the chancellor to reflect whether Fairburn Hall is a fitting educational establishment for a minor."

"John Lord Eldon is not an ascetic--"