Norman Vallery Part 32

Robby seemed much pleased. As long as the carriages were in sight he stood watching them, and then ran after his grandfather into the cottage.

As soon as the party reached Glen Tulloch, Norman was carried up to bed.

It was evident that he was very ill, he had been heated by scrambling about the rocks, and the cold water had given him a sudden chill.

Before the next morning he was in a high fever. A doctor was sent for, but some hours elapsed before he arrived. He looked very grave and said that the little boy required the greatest care and watching.

Mrs Leslie and her mamma insisted that f.a.n.n.y should go to bed, and as she was always obedient, she did as they wished, but she could not go to sleep. All night long she thought of her little brother, and of the danger he was in, and oh! how earnestly she prayed that he might recover.

Either his granny or mamma sat by his bedside throughout the night. He tumbled and tossed, his limbs and his head aching again and again, he saw little birds flitting backwards and forwards in the room.

"Ah! ah! naughty boy, I am Pecksy's brother, you killed him; you know you did!" said one nodding its head, as it perched on the back of a chair, at the end of his bed. Then it flew away, and another came and said, "I am Pecksy's sister, naughty boy, you killed him, you know you did!" and it too nodded its head.

A third and a fourth and a fifth came and chirped in plaintive tones, "Oh, why did you kill our dear little friend? you say you did not kill him; you know you did, you naughty boy!" and so they went on flying backwards and forwards, now concealed in the dark part of the room, and now appearing in the light of the lamp.

In vain Norman tried to raise his voice--he could not even whisper--all he could do was to watch them with his aching eyes as they flitted to and fro. Oh! how he longed to get rid of them. Would they never go away? No; back they came, and twittered in the same mournful strain.

"You killed our brother, you killed our friend; you know you did, naughty, naughty boy!"

At length he could bear it no longer, and with a scream he exclaimed, "Oh, put them out of the room--catch them! catch them! take them away!

I will be a good boy, indeed I will. I will never do such a thing again."

Though he did not speak very distinctly, his mamma understood his words.

"Take what away, dear? There is nothing in the room--there is nothing to hurt you."

"The birds! the birds! Oh yes, oh yes, the birds, the birds, I see them again," cried Norman, with his eyes wide open, staring into the air.

In vain Mrs Vallery tried to soothe him. He still cried out, "Take the birds away!" He did not even know her.

"Naughty woman, do as I tell you! Don't let the birds come and tease me," he cried out.

Strange as it may seem, he did not once speak of his fall from the rock into the water, or of the danger he had run on that occasion.

Thus the night pa.s.sed on.

As soon as it was morning, f.a.n.n.y hurried to her little brother's room.

Her grief and pain were very great when she heard him crying out, "Take the birds away, oh, don't let them tease me!"

She sat down on a stool by his bedside.

Her papa soon came, and he and her mamma hung over Norman, anxiously watching him, but though he opened his eyes wide, he did not recognise them.

"Go away, go away, I do not want you," he murmured.

Even when his mamma took his hand and affectionately bent down over him, he gazed at her as if she was a stranger.

f.a.n.n.y could scarcely restrain her grief to see him thus.

The doctor came back as early as he could, after visiting a patient some miles off. f.a.n.n.y anxiously waited to hear his report.

"The little fellow may do well, but the fever is not yet at its height, and we shall be able to judge better to-morrow," he said.

"Oh, how dreadful it will be to have to wait all that time," thought f.a.n.n.y.

She was sent out of the room several times by her mamma, as she could do nothing, and as often stole back again, only feeling at rest when seated by her young brother's bedside.

At last Norman appeared to drop off to sleep, and her granny, who had taken her mamma's place, whispered that she must go out and enjoy some fresh air.

Just as she descended the steps, she saw old Alec and little Robby coming towards the house. Robby darted forward to meet her.

"O Mistress f.a.n.n.y, how is the young gentleman?" he asked in an eager tone.

"My brother is very, very ill," answered f.a.n.n.y, unable to restrain her tears.

Robby looked very sad, but his countenance brightened up in a little time as he said--

"Don't cry, young lady, grandfather and I have been praying that G.o.d will take care of Master Norman, and make him well--I am sure He will-- so don't cry, don't cry."

f.a.n.n.y dried her tears, for she had the same hope in her heart, remembering that she, too, had been praying, and she knew that G.o.d hears children's prayers as well as those of grown people.

She thanked Robby and old Alec very much for coming to inquire for her brother, and asked them to come into the house as she was sure her papa and the laird and Mrs Maclean would like to see them. Her mamma was lying down to rest, and her granny was with Norman she knew, or they would like to see them too. Old Alec, however, declined, saying that he only came to ask after the young master, and that he must be back to attend to his cattle and sheep.

He was going away, when the laird caught sight of him, and insisted on his coming in with Robby. Mrs Maclean loaded Robby with all sorts of things, and Captain Vallery wished to show his grat.i.tude in some substantial way to old Alec and his little grandson, for saving Norman's life.

Alec persisted that neither he nor the child wished for any reward for doing what was simply their duty.

"That is no reason why I should not show my grat.i.tude, and I will consult with the laird how I can best do so," answered the captain.

For many days Norman remained very ill, and every day old Alec and the little boy came to inquire for him.

"Robby will not rest till he has heard how the young master is going on," said his grandfather, "and though I tell him he cannot help him to get well, still he says he must come to ask how he is doing."

f.a.n.n.y spent every moment that she was allowed to do so in her brother's room.

At length the doctor said that the complaint had taken a favourable turn, and that Norman would soon get well. He looked, however, very pale and thin, and very unlike the strong ruddy boy he had before appeared. f.a.n.n.y was now allowed to be frequently with him. Their poor mamma, from her constant watching by his bedside, was herself made ill, and even granny required rest and fresh air.

What an active attentive little nurse did f.a.n.n.y make, and how pleasantly and gently she talked to Norman, telling him all sorts of things which she could think of, to interest him. She daily brought him his meals; he said that he would rather take them from her than from any one else, as the tea and broth and pudding always tasted nicer when she gave them to him.

She had not liked to talk of Robby and Alec for fear of reminding him of Pecksy. One day when she brought him a cup of broth, and he was sitting propped up with pillows, he threw his arms round her neck.

"You dear, kind sister," he said, "how good you are to me, and I have never been good to you; I don't think anybody else would be as kind to me if I had treated them as I have you."

"Oh, but you know I love you, Norman, and though you have been angry sometimes, that should not make me cease to love you. But here, take the broth, and then I will tell you that not only I, but others care for you, and have prayed that you might be made well, whom you have treated rudely and ill."

Norman took the broth and then he asked--

"Who are they who care for me besides mamma and perhaps granny?"

"Of course, granny cares for you very much indeed," said f.a.n.n.y, who did not like her brother to say that. "And so do others;" and then she told him how day after day old Alec and Robby had come to the house to inquire for him, how grieved Robby had been when he heard that he was ill, and how thankful when he was told that he was recovering.

"That little boy!" exclaimed Norman; "why, I always abused him and scolded him, and now I remember I kicked him in the carriage, and called him names when he ran after me. It was he who threw the end of his handkerchief to me, when I fell into the water. Oh yes! and I pulled him in too, when he was trying to help me, and he might have been drowned. He can only hate me, I should think."