The Gold Brick Part 12

Katharine seemed bewildered a moment, and then clasped her hands in pa.s.sionate despair. "What's the use--oh, what's the use of saying this!

It's terrible, and they both in the deep, deep sea."

Here Mrs. Mason's vanity broke down, and her true womanliness a.s.serted itself.

"G.o.d forgive us for quarreling about them," she said, really penitent.

"If they only come back, I shall be as glad for your sake as you will be for mine. Don't mind what I said, Katy, it isn't worth remembering. Tell me now, are you really engaged to Thrasher?"

"Yes." This little word came faltering through lips as cold and white as snow.

"And you never told of it?"

"What did I say--engaged! No, we are not engaged. How could I tell you so!"

"Well, well, there's no harm in it if you are. G.o.d send the Floyd and all hands safely back."

Those large eyes were lifted--oh! how pleadingly--to heaven, and then Katharine began to gather her cloak more closely around her.

"You're not going!" said Mrs. Mason, ashamed of her unwomanly outbreak.

"Just take off your cloak, and have a cup of tea. Rose and I haven't had ours yet; I fell to thinking over my work, and forgot it."

"No," said Katharine, more quietly, "I must go now; mother will be anxious to hear. You forget, Mrs. Mason, that my half-brother is on board the brig."

"Well, true enough, my head was so full of that fellow, Thrasher, that I forgot that it might be some other person you were crying about. It's hard, waiting and waiting in this way; but we must have patience, I suppose."

"I'll go now," said the girl, rising.

Little Rose, with the sweet instinct of childhood, came up to where the young girl stood, and lifted up her arms for a kiss.

Katharine bent down, with a flutter of the heart, and left a kiss on the little rosebud of a mouth, but her lips quivered, and the child grew sad under the mournful caress.

When Katharine Allen was gone, Mrs. Mason sat down to her work again.

She was a vain, self-sufficient woman, but not in reality an unkind one.

The distress which she had just witnessed left her in low spirits. She was naturally of a hopeful disposition, and, in truth, was quite incapable of the deep feeling which had disturbed her in Katharine.

Something would turn up and set all things right, she was sure of that; contrary winds, heavy freight--there was some such reason why the brig did not come to port; what was the use of fretting while these chances remained. As these consoling thoughts pa.s.sed through her mind, she plied her needle with increasing diligence. Rose must have her new frock embroidered before her father came home. A few more leaves in the vine that enriched the skirt, and it would be completed. Mrs. Mason was almost out of bread, or any thing from which bread is made, but she was a woman to cover unsuitable garments with useless embroidery, rather than turn her hand to any thing by which her necessities could be supplied. She would rather have seen little Rose hungry a thousand times than ill dressed.

CHAPTER XII.

HOME FROM SEA.

While Mrs. Mason sat plying her needle, little Rose wandered about the room, wondering what made pretty Katharine Allen so very sorrowful, but keeping the thoughts to herself. In the stillness, she heard a step on the gravel walk outside the house. Then a white lilac bush near the window was disturbed, and she saw a man's face close to the gla.s.s. The child would have cried out, but the tongue clove to her mouth, and she stood transfixed with fear. She saw the door softly opened, and a strange man step to the threshold. Then her voice broke forth, and pointing her finger at the stranger, she cried out:

"Mother, mother! it's somebody from the sea!" Mrs. Mason dropped both hands in her lap, and gazed breathlessly on the man. Every tint of color left her handsome face; she tried to speak, but could not. The man was so pale and so wild of countenance that she might well have been stricken with deadly fear.

"Nelson Thrasher," she faltered at last.

He took a step into the room, but did not speak.

"Nelson Thrasher!" she almost shrieked. "If you are a living soul, speak. Where is my husband?"

The man recoiled a step, and well he might. The question came on him so suddenly, it might have startled the boldest man on earth. It absolutely seemed to terrify him. He stood a moment staring at her, then answered in a low, hoa.r.s.e voice:

"I come to tell you about him."

The little girl caught the meaning of his words, rose up and seizing his hand between both her dimpled palms cried out:

"He comes to tell about pa! Oh, please sir, where is he? Why don't he come home?"

Thrasher looked down in her face, and met the glance of those eyes--her father's eyes. He instantly shook her hands off as if they had been vipers, and with a gesture which seemed to cast aside some terrible feeling, threw himself on a chair.

"My husband!" said Mrs. Mason. "Tell me, is he coming?--is he well?"

"Your husband, John Mason, is dead!"

"Dead! dead!" The poor woman grew faint under the suddenness of this solemn announcement, and dropped helplessly into her chair.

Thrasher sprang up, and stretching out his arms, received her head on his bosom.

Little Rose stood in silent fear, watching them. After a moment she went close to Thrasher, and pulled at his coat.

"Let me hold mother--I don't want you there."

Thrasher pushed her away with one hand. The woman lay as if she were dead against his heart, which beat with iron heaviness, like the trip-hammer of a foundry.

Again the child pulled at his skirts. She was crying now.

"What is dead? I say, man, what is dead? I want to know!"

"See!" answered Thrasher, lifting the woman's white face from his bosom.

"See!"

"And is that it?" whispered the child, through her hushed tears.

"Mother! mother!"

The shock and suddenness of Thrasher's tidings had overcome Mrs. Mason, but she was not entirely unconscious. When the child called out in her sweet, pathetic voice, she staggered from Thrasher's hold, and falling back into her chair, held out both arms for Rose. The little thing sprang to her lap with a cry of joy, and instantly covered the troubled face with kisses.

"Now," she said, turning her face toward Thrasher; "now tell me about him, my dear, dear pa."

"Send the child away, while I tell you," said Thrasher.

Rose clung to her mother's neck.

"No," said Mrs. Mason, "she must learn all sometime, and I am stronger with her near."

There was a moment's silence, then Mrs. Mason said very faintly,