Of High Descent Part 71

He turned from them hastily, and glided back into the darkened room, where Louise followed him, as Madelaine went slowly down toward the town.

Vine was seated before the empty grate, his head resting on his hand, as Louise went to his side, and he started as if from a dream when she touched his shoulder.

"You, my child?" he said, sinking back. "Ah! stay with me--pray with me. It is so hard to bear alone."

Volume 2, Chapter XVI.

THE OLD WATCH-DOG.

The silence as if of death reigned for days and days at Van Heldre's house, which, unasked, old Crampton had made his residence. In a quiet furtive way he had taken possession of the inner office, to which he had brought from his own house a sofa-cus.h.i.+on and pillow, carrying them there one dark night unseen, and at times, no doubt, he must have lain down and slept; but to all there it was a mystery when he did take his rest.

If Mrs Van Heldre called him to partake of a meal he came. If he was forgotten he ate one of a store of captain's biscuits which he kept in his desk along with his very strong tobacco, which flavoured the said biscuits in a way that, being a regular smoker, he did not notice, while at ten o'clock he regularly went out into the yard to have his pipe. He was always ready to sit up and watch, but, to his great annoyance, he had few opportunities, the task being shared between Madelaine and her mother.

As to the business of the office, that went on as usual as far as the regular routine was concerned, everything fresh being put back till the princ.i.p.al resumed his place at his desk. Bills of lading, the smelting-house accounts, bank deposits, and the rest, all were attended to, just as if Van Heldre had been there instead of lying above between life and death. From time to time Mrs Van Heldre came down to him to beg that he would ask for everything he wanted.

"I cannot help neglecting you, Mr Crampton," she said, with her hands playing about the b.u.t.tons of her dress.

"Never you mind about me, ma'am," he said, admonis.h.i.+ng her with a penholder. "I'm all right, and waiting to take my turn."

"Yes, yes, you're very good, Mr Crampton, and you will see that everything goes on right, so that when he comes down he may find that we have not neglected any single thing."

Crampton frowned, but his face grew smooth again as he looked at the little anxious countenance before him.

"Don't you be afraid, ma'am. If Mr Van Heldre came down to-day everything is ready for him--everything."

"Yes, of course, Mr Crampton. I might have known it. But I can't help feeling anxious and worried about things."

"Naturally, ma'am, naturally; and I've been trying to take all worry away from you about the business. Everything is quite right. Ah!" he said as the little woman hurried away from the office, "if Miss Maddy would only talk to me like that. But she won't forgive me, and I suppose she never will." He made an entry and screwed up his lips, as he dipped a pen in red ink and ruled a couple of lines, using the ebony ruler which had laid his master low. "Poor girl! I never understood these things; but they say love makes people blind and contrary, and so it is that she seems to hate me, a man who wouldn't rob her father of a penny, and in her quiet hiding sort of way wors.h.i.+ps the man who robbed him of five hundred pounds, and nearly killed him as well. Ah! it's a curious world."

"I've--I've brought you a gla.s.s of wine and a few biscuits, Mr Crampton," said Mrs Van Heldre, entering and speaking in her pleasant prattling way. Then she set down a tray, and hurried out before he could utter his thanks.

"Good little woman," said Crampton. "Some people would have brought a gla.s.s of wine and not the decanter. Well, yes, ma'am, I will have a gla.s.s of wine, for I feel beat out."

He poured out a gla.s.s of good old sherry, held it up to the light, and closed one eye.

"Your health, Mr Van Heldre," he said solemnly. "Best thing I can wish you. Yours, Mrs Van Heldre, and may you never be a widow. Miss Madelaine, your health, my dear, and may your eyes be opened. I'm not such a bad man as you think."

He drank the gla.s.s of wine, and then made a grimace.

"Sweet biscuits," he said, "only fit for children. Hah, well! Eh?

What's the matter?"

He had heard a cry, and hurrying across the office, he locked the door, and ran down the gla.s.s corridor to the house.

"Worse, ma'am, worse?" he cried, as Mrs Van Heldre came running down the stairs and into the dining-room, where she plumped herself on the floor, and held her hands to her lips to keep back the hysterical sobs which struggled for vent.

"Shall I run for the doctor, ma'am?"

"No, no!" cried Mrs Van Heldre, in a stifled voice, with her mouth still covered. "Better."

"Better?"

She nodded violently.

"Then it was very cruel of you, ma'am," said the old man plaintively.

"I thought--I thought--"

Crampton said no more, but he walked to the window with his face buried in his great yellow silk handkerchief, blowing his nose with a continuity and force which became at last so unbearable that Mrs Van Heldre went out into the hall.

She went back soon into the dining-room, where Crampton was waiting anxiously.

"He looked at me when I was in the room with my darling child, Mr Crampton, and his lips parted, and he spoke to me, and I was obliged to come away for fear I should do him harm."

"Come away, ma'am! and at a time like that!" said Crampton, angrily.

Mrs Van Heldre drew herself up with dignity.

"My child signed to me to go," she said quietly; and then with her eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with tears, "Do you think I would not have given the world to stay?"

At that moment Madelaine came quickly and softly into the room.

"He is sleeping," she whispered excitedly; "he looked at me and smiled, and then his eyes closed and he seemed to go into a calm sleep, not that terrible stupor, but sleep. Mother, come and see--it must be sleep."

Old Crampton was left alone to begin pacing the room excitedly for a few minutes, when Madelaine came down once more.

"Pray go for Dr Knatchbull!" she cried piteously.

"But isn't he--"

"We do not know--we are afraid to hope--pray, pray go."

"She hasn't spoken so gently since that night," muttered Crampton, as he hurried down the street. "Poor girl! it is very hard; and this may be only the change before--No, I won't think that," cried the old clerk, and he broke into a run.

Volume 2, Chapter XVII.

CRAMPTON REPORTS PROGRESS.

"Yes," said Dr Knatchbull, confidently; "he will get over it, now.

Can't say," he said, rubbing his hands in his satisfaction, "whether it's the doctor's physic, or the patient's physique, but one of them has worked wonders. What do you say, Miss Van Heldre?"

"That we can never be sufficiently grateful to you."

"Never," cried Mrs Van Heldre, wringing his hand.

"Bah!" exclaimed the doctor, "that's what you people say now that you have got to the turn; but by and by when I send in my bill--and I mean to make this a pretty stiff one, Mrs Van Heldre--you will all be as grumpy as possible, and think it a terrible overcharge."

"Well, really, Dr Knatchbull," began Mrs Van Heldre, ruffling up like an aggravated hen, "I am quite sure my clear husband will pay any--"

"Mamma, mamma, dear!" cried Madelaine, smiling through her tears; "can you not see that Dr Knatchbull is laughing at us?"