French and English Part 29

To Julian, who had known nothing of the joys of home since he left his valley in the far south of the Western world, and who had no home to call his own now, there was something touching in the eagerness of Wolfe to reach his home and his mother. His father was not likely to be there. He would almost certainly be either in Kent, or else abroad; for he still held a command in the army, and the war on the Continent was still raging furiously. But the mother would be awaiting her son in the house he had written to ask her to secure for him again. It was within easy reach of the town, and yet it was quiet and secluded, and suited his tastes and habits.

It was almost dark one murky autumn evening when the lumbering coach, which had conveyed the friends the last stages of their journey, drew up at the door of the house. Lights shone in the windows, and from the open door there streamed out a glowing shaft of yellow light, bespeaking the warm welcome awaiting the tired traveller.

Wolfe had been weary to the verge of exhaustion when they had abandoned the attempt to ride the whole distance, and had secured the heavy coach; but now he seemed to revive to new life, and he sprang from it with some of the activity of youth and strength.

"Mother--there is my mother!" he exclaimed; and Julian saw him take the steps two at a time, to meet the advancing greeting from the mother who had come to welcome home her son.

Mrs. Wolfe was a distinctly beautiful woman, whose beauty had been but little dimmed by time. There was a sweet, matronly repose about her, and the brightness of her red-gold hair was dashed with streaks of soft grey beneath the laces with which it was crowned.

But her complexion was clear and fair, and there was a look of soft fragility about her which made the son's protecting air of solicitude a natural and appropriate one. She folded him in her arms in a long, rapturous embrace; and Julian stood silently by the while, reverent of that deep love which for the moment could find no expression save in the whispered words:

"Mother! mother! mother!"

"My son--my dear boy! my son come back to me!"

When the lady turned at length to greet the silent figure who stood silently watching this meeting, Julian could see that the tears were standing upon her cheeks and sparkling in her eyes.

"You will pardon me, sir, for this apparent neglect," she said sweetly, putting her thin jewelled fingers into Julian's hand; "but when my boy goes forth to the fight, I never know whether it will be G.o.d's will to send him back to me safe and sound. A mother's heart cannot but be full upon a day like this. But second only to my joy in welcoming him back is this of making acquaintance with the trusty friend who has been so much to him during his perils and labours."

"Madam, it has been the joy and honour of my life to be able to serve so great a soldier and so n.o.ble a man!"

The warm clasp upon his fingers gave the mother's answer to this; and then they all moved within the lighted hall, where a glowing fire and a number of candles gave bright illumination, and where quite a hubbub of welcome was going on. The servants were pressing forward to see and greet their young master, who had come home crowned with laurels. It was known by this time in England how much of the success at Louisbourg had been due to Wolfe's unfailing energy and intrepidity. He was a hero at home as well as abroad, though he had hardly realized it yet. Moreover, he was vociferously welcomed by his dogs, all of whom had been brought by his mother to meet their master again; and he had much ado to return the manifold greetings bestowed upon him, and to free himself at last from the demonstrative affection of his canine friends.

A plentiful supper was awaiting the wearied travellers; and it was when they had put in order their dress and entered the dining room that they were aware of the presence of another lady, a very handsome, dark-eyed girl, who stood beside the glowing fire regarding their entrance with looks of unaffected interest.

"My dear," said Mrs. Wolfe, "let me present to you my son James, of whom you know much, although you have never met; and his friend and companion, Lieutenant Julian Dautray, whose name is equally known to you.

"This, James, is Miss Kate Lowther, the daughter of an old friend of ours, who has left her in my charge whilst he takes a last voyage to Barbados, where once he was Governor, to be my daughter and companion till he comes back to claim her."

The bright-eyed girl dropped a courtesy to the gentlemen, who bowed low before her; but then holding out her hand frankly to Wolfe, she said in a clear, fresh voice.

"I am so glad to see you, Cousin James. I am going to call you that because I call your mother Aunt, and she has given me leave to do so. I know so much about you from your letters. I have copied every one of them to send to your father, for Aunt will not part with the originals even for him! I know all about Louisbourg, and the batteries, and the s.h.i.+ps, and the big guns. Oh, I think if I were a man I could become an officer at once, and command a great campaign like that one! We had such rejoicings here when the news came! it was like new life to us. We had heard of that dreadful defeat at Ticonderoga, and it seemed as though England was never to rise from the dust of humiliation. It was openly said that Louisbourg would never fall; that it was as impregnable as Quebec. Oh, there was such lugubrious talk! And then came the news of the victory, and of Brigadier Wolfe's valiant and doughty deeds. You may guess how your mother's eyes shone at that! And all England echoed to the sound of your name!"

"A name more formidable in sound than in reality," spoke Wolfe, laughing, but cheered and pleased by the sincere and pretty enthusiasm of the winning girl. "When those who have kindly admired me from the distance come to inspect me in person, what a shock they will receive! We shall have to palm Julian here off as the right man; he will play the part with much more dignity and grace."

Kate looked from one to the other laughing.

"What do you expect me to say to that? Lieutenant Dautray looks every inch a soldier; but I think, Cousin James, that you have the air of the man born to command."

"In spite of my cropped red head and lanky limbs? I am proud of the compliment paid me."

Wolfe was certainly rather taken aback to find himself a man of so much mark when he showed himself in Bath. He had quite an ovation when first he appeared at the Pump Room; and although he was in a measure accustomed to lead a public life, and to be the object of attention and even admiration, he shrank from having this carried into his private life, and was happiest at home with his mother and friend, and with bright Kate Lowther, with whom he soon became wonderfully intimate.

The girl's sincere affection for his frail and delicate mother would in any case have won his heart; but there was something exceedingly attractive in her whole personality and in her eager interest in his past career and in the fortunes of the war. She would sit for hours beside him whilst he related to his mother the incidents of the campaign, and her questions and comments showed a quick intelligence and ready sympathy that were a never-failing source of interest to him.

Her strength and vitality were refres.h.i.+ng to one who was himself almost always weak and suffering. He would watch her at play with the dogs in the garden, or up and down the staircase, and delight in the grace and vigour of her movements. She would come in from her walks and rides with a glow upon her face and a light in her eyes, and sitting down beside him would relate all that had befallen her since her departure an hour or two before--telling everything in so racy and lively a fas.h.i.+on that it became the chiefest pleasure of Wolfe's life to lie and look at her and listen to her conversation.

Christmas was close upon them. It would be a bright and happy season for mother and son, spent together after their long separation. Upon the eve of that day Kate came eagerly in with a large official letter in her hand, addressed to the soldier. It was a moment of excitement whilst he opened it, for it was known that he had been corresponding latterly with several ministers respecting the proposed expedition against Quebec, and all knew how dear to his heart was the fulfilment of that daring scheme.

As he read the doc.u.ment his cheek flushed. He sat up more erect in his chair, and there came into his face a look which his soldiers well knew. It was always to be seen there when he led them into battle.

"Mother," he said very quietly, "Mr. Pitt has chosen me to command the expedition now fitting out against Quebec."

Mrs. Wolfe gave a little gasp, the tears springing to her eyes; but over Kate's face there spread a deep, beautiful flush, and she grasped the young man by the hand, exclaiming:

"O Cousin James, how glad I am! What a splendid victory it will be!"

"If it be won!" he said, looking up at her with kindling eyes. "But there is always an 'if' in the case."

"There will be none when you are in command," answered Kate, with a ring of proud a.s.surance in her voice. "Had you been commander of the Louisbourg expedition, Quebec would have been ours by now."

Their eyes met. In hers he read unbounded admiration and faith. It thrilled him strangely. It brought a look of new purpose into his face. He held her hand, and she left it lying in his clasp. He was holding it still when he turned to his mother.

"Are you not glad, mother mine?" he asked gently.

"Oh yes, my son--glad and proud of the honour done you, of the appreciation shown of your worth and service. But how will you be able to undergo all that fatigue, and the perils and sufferings of another voyage? That is what goes to my heart. You are so little fit for it all!"

"I have found that a man can always be fit for his duty," said Wolfe gravely. "Is not that so, Kate?"

"With you it is," she answered, with another of her wonderful glances; and the mother, watching the faces of the pair, rose from her seat and crept from the room. Her heart was at once glad and sorrowful, proud and heavy; she felt that she must ease it with a little weeping before she could talk of this great thing with the spirit her son would look to find in her.

Wolfe and Kate were left alone together. He got possession of her other hand. She was standing before him still, a beautiful bloom upon her face, her eyes s.h.i.+ning like stars.

"You are pleased with all this, my Kate?" he asked; and he let the last words escape him unconsciously.

"Pleased that your country should do you this great honour? Of course I am pleased. You have deserved it at her hands; yet men do not always get their deserts in this world."

"No; and you must not think that there are not hundreds of better and braver men than myself in our army, or that I am a very wonderful person. I have got the wish of my heart--it has been granted to me more fully than I ever looked to see it; but how often do we see in the hour of triumph that there is something bitter in the cup, something we had not looked to find there. Three months ago I was burning to sail for Quebec, and now--"

He paused for a moment, and she looked full at him.

"Surely you have not changed. You want to go; your heart is set upon it!"

"Yes," he answered gravely: "my wish and purpose have never wavered; but now my heart is divided. Once it beat only for my country, and the clash of arms was music in my ears; now it has found a rival elsewhere. If I go to Quebec, I must leave you behind, my Kate!"

Suddenly into her bright eyes there sprang the smart of tears. She clasped the hands that held hers and pressed them closely.

"It will not be for long," she said; "you will return covered with glory and renown!"

"It may be so, it may be so; yet who can tell? Think how many gallant soldiers have been left behind upon that great continent: Braddock, Howe--oh, I could name many others less known to fame, perhaps, but gallant soldiers all. We go out with our lives in our hand, and so many never return!"

The tears began to fall slowly in sparkling drops. She could not release her hands to wipe them away.

"Do not speak so, James; it is not like you! Why do you try to break my heart?"

"Would you care so much, so much, were I to find a soldier's grave?"

A quick sob was her reply. She turned her head away.