Englefield Grange Part 53

"You think my brain is becoming disturbed again," said Arthur, lying back quietly at Henry's bidding, "but indeed I am telling you the truth.

I have not yet dared to utter a word to anyone on the subject, and if you will not listen to me I must carry the burden with me to my grave."

Quite convinced by the calm tones and the earnest words, Henry Halford placed his hand on the arm of his brother, and said, "Have you taken your burden to G.o.d, Arthur?"

"Ah, that is what dear f.a.n.n.y would have said; but how could I venture to take my trouble there, when it is caused by sin, and is therefore my just punishment?"

"Arthur," said Henry, "while you were a boy at my father's school, did you not study your Bible sufficiently to know how ready G.o.d is to pardon and forgive?"

"I have forgotten Him for years, Henry, and He left me to myself to fall. But let me tell you all the circ.u.mstances. That doc.u.ment in the carpet bag, if I had taken it to Australia and negotiated it there, as I quite intended to do, would have no doubt led to my conviction as a forger; I can see it now clearly, and I must have been mad at the time to suppose I could so act and escape. The truth is, I married my second wife under false pretences; she supposed I was well off, and yet I had no income, and my debts in Melbourne amounted to more than 1000_l._ I could not, therefore, make any inquiries about Louisa's power over her fortune, from a dread of questions from her friends about myself. After our marriage she gave into my hands a few hundred pounds which she had in the bank; but when I stated to her that I required more to obtain a partners.h.i.+p in a firm, I discovered that her property was invested in the power of trustees, one of whom resided in England. I gladly availed myself of the opportunity for bringing over my children to visit their mother's relations, and proposed that if Louisa would agree to advance me 2000_l._ we could obtain the signature of her trustee in Australia, and forward the doc.u.ment by mail to England, so as to be ready for completion when we arrived.

"On the morning of poor Louisa's death all necessary arrangements had been made. Her trustee in England had signed the doc.u.ment, and her signature only in the presence of a witness was needed to complete it.

Mr. Norton engaged to meet us at Englefield Grange on that evening to witness the signature, and you will remember he called, but I was unable even to speak to him."

Henry silently a.s.sented, and Arthur went on. "I cannot describe to you the agonies of that night. The 2000_l._, part of which was to pay my debts, had slipped from my grasp; ruin to myself and my children stared me in the face. I had a little flask of brandy in my pocket, which we had brought with us on the journey. I am not accustomed to spirits, and the brandy I drank that night first exhilarated and then almost maddened me. In a kind of frenzy I sat for an hour imitating on sc.r.a.ps of paper Louisa's writing, and that of another, whose name I need not mention.

And then, oh, Henry! I signed the two names on the doc.u.ment, and one of them was, to all appearance, the handwriting of the dead! During that dreadful week I kept up my courage with that fatal spirit. You all attributed my stupefied and callous manner to the shock of Louisa's death, and pitied and sympathised with me. I left you and came to London, with the determination to sail as quickly as possible to Australia, that I might obtain money on the deed, and turn it to account in some speculation which would enable me to refund the money and recover the doc.u.ment before it was sent to England. It was a wild scheme, such a one as Satan often uses to lead on his victims to their destruction. I can see that now; I was saved from farther sin by the accident, and painful as my punishment has been, I trust I am thankful for it."

"But," said Henry, "why did you not carry the paper in your pocket book?"

"Henry, I dared not risk it; I seemed to have the presentiment of an accident, and dreaded the discovery of the paper upon my person. When I found myself falling on that day of sorrows, and felt the carpet bag slip from my hand, I cannot describe my feelings; no wonder I raved about it in my delirium."

"It is a most painful history," said Henry, after a pause, "and you may well be thankful for the accident which saved you from further sin, and perhaps disgrace. I need not ask whether you have repented, Arthur, for indeed your act was a breach of the laws both of G.o.d and man. It was----"

"Don't hesitate, Henry, call it by its right name, 'forgery.' Truly, truly, have I repented in dust and ashes, and I can say like David, 'I abhor myself.'"

"Dear Arthur," said the young clergyman, as he saw the tears of real contrition stealing down the cheeks of his brother-in-law, "if such is your repentance, you can continue to use David's words in the Psalm, 'Make me to hear joy and gladness, that the bones which Thou hast broken may rejoice.'"

Henry Halford rose as he spoke, and gave the invalid a portion of the mixture which stood on the table, and after awhile Arthur revived, and could listen calmly to another subject.

"If you wish to relieve your mind still farther of all anxiety, Arthur,"

said his brother-in-law presently, "I have some letters in my pocket addressed to you. Would you like to open them? they may contain good news."

"Yes, oh yes; where are they?" he exclaimed eagerly.

Henry drew from his pocket three letters, and placing one in Arthur's hand, said--

"Suppose you begin with that, Arthur."

The invalid took the letter and opened it, Henry watching his countenance half in fear as he saw the flush and look of astonishment, and the rapid glance over its contents; but then laying it down he closed his eyes, as if unable to understand what he had read.

"Henry," he said presently, "read it to me; it is incomprehensible."

"No, Arthur, not quite," he replied, as he took up the letter; "and perhaps I can enlighten you. Mr. Norton called upon me a few days ago, and stated that the trustees had come to a decision respecting the payment of some money which you would have received had your wife lived, and have only been waiting for the consent of all parties. Mr. Norton wished me to inform you of their intention, but I advised him to write to you on the subject. He has done so, and this is the letter.

"Read it, Henry, read it; G.o.d has been too good to me in the midst of all my sinful conduct if the contents of that letter are true."

"He is wont to give us more than even we desire or deserve," said Henry, as he opened the letter.

"Lincoln's Inn, Aug. 12th, 18--.

"MY DEAR SIR,--I am desired by the trustees of the late Mrs.

Louisa Franklyn's property to express their deep sympathy with you in the great loss you have sustained by her death, and also their hopes that you are recovering from the serious illness which has followed your accident.

"With respect to a deed which was not completed by Mrs.

Franklyn at the time of her lamented death, I am directed to state that, in consequence of a certain clause in the will of the late Mr. Howard, your late wife's first husband, you are not ent.i.tled to claim any of her property, the heir-at-law being Mr. William Lynn Howard, the testator's nephew.

"In consideration of these circ.u.mstances the trustees of the late Mrs. Franklyn are willing, with the consent of Mr. William Lynn Howard, to make over to you the 2000_l._ which you could have legally claimed had Mrs. Franklyn lived a few hours longer to complete the legal doc.u.ment which only required her witnessed signature.

"On receipt of your reply accepting this proposal, the necessary papers will be forwarded for your signature.

"I remain, dear sir, faithfully yours,

"E. NORTON."

For a time there was silence between the two men, each being too much overcome to speak. At length Arthur Franklyn exclaimed--

"Oh, Henry, if I had only confided my circ.u.mstances to you, and waited and trusted, I might have been spared the recollection of this dreadful fall from rect.i.tude and honour, which will leave a blot on my conscience to the end of my days."

"Then it will serve as a beacon and a warning to you in your future career, Arthur; when tempted and tried you will remember what this downfall has cost you, and with less confidence in yourself you will have to look to the 'Strong for strength.'"

"And yet, Henry, I would give worlds to recall the past two months. Oh, if I had only waited!"

"There is nothing more trying to the Christian in his path through life than being required to wait. 'Stand still' was the command of G.o.d to the Israelites when the Red Sea stretched before them, the mountains on either side, and Pharaoh's host was behind them. And in one place the prophet exclaims, 'Our strength is to sit still.' We often forget the truth of the poet's words, 'They also serve who only stand and wait.'"

"Henry," exclaimed Arthur presently, "mine has been a frivolous, useless life. I seem to have forgotten all the teachings of your dear mother in my boyhood, but they are coming back to me now. Is there not a verse in the Psalms about waiting? My dear lost f.a.n.n.y would often remind me of it, when instead of waiting patiently for steady success in any undertaking, I put it aside and commenced something else. She would call it 'making haste to be rich.' O Henry, since my illness the memory of my carelessness about dear f.a.n.n.y's health has caused me hours of bitter remorse."

"You must not indulge any longer in self-reproach, Arthur; it can do no good to recall the past excepting as a warning for the future, and mental anxiety will r.e.t.a.r.d your recovery. The last two months have been very dark, but we must remember the Indian proverb, 'The darkest part of the night is just before the dawn.'"

"What is the text in the Psalms about waiting, Henry?"

"It occurs in the thirty-seventh--'Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him; He shall give thee the desires of thine heart.' And now you must try and sleep for a while till dinner is ready, and in the evening I will write a letter for you to Mr. Norton, and you can sign it."

Arthur obeyed; the conversation and the letter had produced excitement, and great exhaustion was the result. Henry sat and watched him till he fell into a calm and peaceful sleep, to which he had for months been a stranger.

A quiet step, a gentle movement, and as the door slowly opened Clara Franklyn appeared. Her uncle placed his finger on his lips and pointed to the couch. The womanly girl understood, and withdrew as noiselessly as she had entered.

CHAPTER x.x.xV.

A PANIC IN THE CITY.

Autumn of the year which had proved so full of changes to Arthur Franklyn pa.s.sed into winter, and frost and snow ushered in the time when the angels sang their holy song of "Peace and goodwill to all men."

The red breast of the robin and the holly berries gleamed brighten the glistening snow, and the joyous notes of the sociable bird sounded clear and melodious through the keen frosty air, heralding the birth of another year. Winter gave place to the gentle and balmy air of spring, and April found Mary Armstrong revelling in the country delights at Meadow Farm, when the "sound of the singing of birds has come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in the land."

With all the firm will and patient endurance of Mary's character she had not a const.i.tution of iron. The alternation of hopes and fears, caused by the various opinions expressed by others in opposition to her father respecting Mr. Halford's family, were at last more than she could bear.