Slow work--terribly slow work; but at the end of three days--during
which at any moment it had seemed as if the light of life would become
extinct--Helen Perowne still lived, and in place of Grey Stuart or Mrs
Bolter, Neil Harley was mostly by her side.
She suffered still from wild attacks of delirium, and in her wanderings,
if the firm, strong hand of the Resident was not there to hold her, she
grew plaintive and fretful, and a look of horror appeared upon her
wasted face; but no sooner did she feel Neil Harley's firm clasp and
hear his whispered words, than she uttered a sigh of content, and
dropped always into a placid sleep.
To his surprise and delight, these words seemed to pacify her; a
long-drawn sigh came from her breast, and she fell into a restful
slumber.
During the rest of the critical time of her illness a few whispered
words always had the desired effect, and from that hour Helen began
rapidly to mend.
"Yes, she is improving fast now," said the doctor, as he sat beside her
bed talking, as if he believed his patient to be asleep. "I shan't take
any of the credit, Harley. I should have lost her, I am sure, for it
was not in physic to do more than I had done. There, I am going down
now to my specimens, to have a look at them, and talk to my wife, for I
have hardly seen her of late."
He rose and left the room, and the Resident took his place, seeing that
the great dark eyes were fixed upon him, full of a strange, pathetic
light, that the warm evening glow seemed to give an almost supernatural
effect.
"You are awake, then?" he said, softly.
"Yes; I heard all that he said, and it is true."
"Thank heaven!" said the Resident, fervently, as he took one of the thin
brown hands from the white coverlet and held it in both of his.
"I believe it was your tender words that gave me hope," said Helen,
softly. "Now it is time to take them back."
"Take them back?" he exclaimed, wonderingly.
"Yes; take them back. Do you think I could be so weak and cruel as to
let you be burdened for life with such a degraded thing as I?" she
cried; and she burst into so violent a fit of sobbing that the Resident
grew alarmed; but he must have possessed wonderful soothing power, for
when Mrs Bolter came in a short time after, it was to find Helen
Perowne's weary head resting upon Neil Harley's arm, and there was a
restful, peaceful look in her eyes that the little lady had never seen
there before.
Helen did not move, and the Resident seemed as if it was quite a matter
of course for him to remain there, so little Mrs Bolter went softly
forward and bent down to kiss her invalid as she called her, when she
was prisoned by two trembling weak arms, and for a few minutes nothing
was heard but Helen's sobs.
When Mrs Bolter went down soon afterwards to sit with the doctor, she
said, softly:
"I never thought I could like that girl, Henry, and now I believe I
almost love her."
"That's because she has changed her colour," said the doctor, with a
hearty chuckle.
"Oh! that reminds me," cried Mrs Bolter; "I wanted to ask you about
that."
"About what?" said the doctor, looking up.
"About the black stain. Will she always be like that?"
"Pooh, nonsense! my dear. It is only a stain, which has thoroughly
permeated, if I may so term it, the outer skin. Soon wear off, my
dear--soon wear off."
"But her teeth, Henry?"
"Come right in time, my dear, with plenty of tooth-powder; all but the
filing."
"But that is a terrible disfigurement."
"Oh, that will go off in time. The teeth are always growing and being
worn down at the edges; but what does it matter? she is ten times as
nice a girl as she was before."
"Yes," said Mrs Bolter, thoughtfully; "and now, Henry, if I could only
have my mind set at rest about Arthur, I believe I should be a happy
woman."
"Then we'll soon set your mind at rest about him," said the doctor. "I
never felt that I could leave you till Helen was safe from a relapse."
"Leave me, Henry!" cried the little lady.
"Only for a time, till I have found Arthur."
"Then you do think he will be found?"
"I am sure of it. Why, who would hurt him, the best and most
inoffensive of men?"
"Surely no one," said Mrs Bolter, with a sigh.
"Of course not. I've tried to get something out of Murad, but my
messengers have failed; but all the same, I feel sure he knows all about
it, and burked Arthur for a reason of his own."
"But what reason could he have?" cried Mrs Bolter.
"Well, I'll tell you my theory, my dear, and it is this: he meant to
silence all Helen's scruples by marrying her according to our rites."
"Do you think so?"
"I do; and that is why he secured Arthur. If it was not so, it was
because he was in the way. Anyhow, we can get nothing from the rascal,
so I mean to go up the river again. I have my plans working."
"But, Henry!"
"Only to try and find him; for Harley's and Hilton's men have made a
miserable failure of it all."
Mrs Bolter sighed, but she made no opposition; and then further
conversation was ended by the arrival of Grey Stuart with Hilton, both
looking so satisfied and happy that Mrs Bolter exclaimed: "Why,
whatever now!" The doctor chuckled, and cried: "Oh! that's it, is it!
Oh! Grey! I thought you meant to be a female old bachelor all your
life!"
"I have persuaded her that it is folly," said Hilton. "But I always
thought it was to be Chumbley!" cried the doctor. "Here, I say, this is
a horrible take-in."
"I thought the same, doctor," said Hilton, smiling; "and have been
making myself very miserable about what is a misconception, though Grey
here owns to thinking Chum the best and truest of men."
"And I'm sure he is!" cried Mrs Doctor, enthusiastically.
"Here, I say!" cried the doctor, banging his hand down on the table,
"this won't do! Am I to sit and hear a man praised to my very face?"
"Yes," said Mrs Bolter, quickly; "if it is Chumbley; and if Grey had
chosen with my eyes, she would have taken him instead."
"But she did not choose with your eyes, my dear," said the doctor,
smiling; "and she was wise?"
"And why so?" cried Mrs Bolter, tartly.
"Because she saw what a bad one you were at making a choice, my dear.
Look at me for a husband, Miss Stuart; this was the best she could do."
"Oh, Henry! for shame!" cried Mrs Doctor. "There! I'll say no more,
only that I hardly forgive you, Hilton; and I tell you frankly that you
have won a far better wife than you deserve!"
"Then I'm sure we shall be the best of friends over it, Mrs Bolter!"
said Hilton, merrily, "for I have been repeating that sentiment almost
word for word."
"There, there, there--the young people know best," said the doctor. "I
congratulate you both; and I must be off now to see Perowne. But here
is somebody coming. Mrs Barlow, I believe."
"Henry, pray say I'm out!" cried Mrs Bolter, starting up. "I really
cannot meet that woman to-day!" and she made for the door.
"It's all right. Don't go, my dear; it's only Stuart," said the doctor,
chuckling.
"And you said it was that horrible Mrs Barlow on purpose to frighten
me! It's a very great shame--it is indeed!"
"Ye're right, Mrs Bolter," said the little dry Scotch merchant,
appearing in the doorway; "it is a great shame! After all my care and
devotion, and the money I have spent in her education, here's this
foolish girl takes a fancy to a red coat, and says she shan't be happy
without she marries it!"
"Pray, pray, papa! No, dear father, don't talk like that!" said Grey,
crossing to him, as he took a chair, and resting her hand upon his
shoulder.
"Oh, but it's enough to make any man speak!" he cried. "I suppose it's
natural though, Mrs Bolter?"
"Of course it is, Mr Stuart; and if Captain Hilton undertakes to make
her a good husband, why you must be very thankful."
"Humph! I suppose so; but mind this; you can't be wed till the
chaplain's found! Ha! ha! ha! I say, doctor, that will stir up Hilton
here!"
"We are making earnest efforts to find him without that," said Hilton,
warmly.
"Oh, are you?" said the old merchant. "Well, look here, just a few
business words in the presence of witnesses before I go up to Perowne,
for I promised to go and smoke a pipe with the poor fellow, who's as
sick in body as he is in pocket and mind."
"I'm going there, and we'll trot over together," said the doctor.
"Verra good," said old Stuart. "So now look here, Master Hilton,
commonly called Captain Hilton, you came to me to-day saying that you
had my child's consent to ask me to give her to you for a wife."
"Yes, sir, and I repeat it."
"Well, I sort of consented, didn't I?"
"You did, sir."
"Good; but once more--you know I'm a verra poor man?"
"I know you are not a rich one, sir."
"That's right, Hilton. And you ken," he continued, getting excited and
a little more Scottish of accent--"ye ken that when puir Perowne failed,
he owed me nearly sax hundred pounds?"
"I did hear so, sir."
"Well, I meant to give little Grey here that for a wedding-portion, and
now it's all gone."
"I'm glad of it, sir," cried Hilton, warmly, "for I am only a poor
fellow with my pay and a couple of hundred a year besides; but in a very
few years' time I shall be in the receipt of another two hundred and
fifty a year, so that we shall not hurt."
Grey crossed to him, and put her arm through his, as she nodded and
smiled in his face.
"Ye're a pair o' feckless babies!" cried old Stuart. "So ye mean to say
ye'll be content to begin life on nothing but what ye've got, Hilton?"
"To be sure, sir! Why not?"
"To be sure! Why not?" said Mrs Bolter. "I don't approve of people
marrying for money, Mr Stuart; and I'm glad they act in so honest a
spirit! Do you know, Mr Hilton, I began my life out here hating Helen
Perowne, and thoroughly disliking you; and now, do you know, she has
made me love her; and as for you, I never liked you half so well before,
and I wish you both every joy, and as happy a life as I live myself when
Henry stays at home, and does not glory in teasing me in every way he
can!"
"Thank you, Mrs Bolter!" cried Hilton, warmly. "I don't wonder,
though, that you should dislike me, for I did not show you a very
pleasant side of my character."
"Well," said old Stuart, rising, "you and I may as well be off, doctor.
Poor Perowne will be glad to hear you chat a bit about Helen; and as for
you two young and foolish people, why--ha! ha! ha! you had better make
friends with the doctor. He has always been petting my little girl;
now's the time for him to do something a little more solid."
"I'm sure," said Mrs Doctor, warmly, "Grey shall not go to the altar
without a little dowry of her own--eh, Henry?"
"To be sure, my dear!" said the doctor--"to be sure!"
"Nay, nay, nay!" cried old Stuart, showing his teeth; "hang your little
dowries! I want something handsome down!"
"Oh, father!" cried Grey, turning scarlet with shame.
"You hold your tongue, child! I want the doctor to do something
handsome for you out of his findings at Ophir--Solomon's gold, Bolter.
Ha, ha, ha!"
"Laugh away!" cried the doctor; "but I shall astonish you yet!"
"Gad, Bolter, ye will when ye mak' anything out o' that!" cried the
little merchant. "Don't let him run after shadows any more, Mrs
Bolter. Well, Hilton, my boy, I won't play with you," he said, holding
out his hand, as he spoke now, with Grey held tightly to his side, and
the tears in his pale blue eyes. "I'm a pawkie, queer old Scot, but I
believe my heart's in the right place."
"I'm sure--" began Hilton.
"Let me speak, my lad!" cried the old man. "I always said to myself
that I should like the lad who wooed my little lassie here to love her
for herself alone, and I believe you do. Hold your tongue a bit my lad!
I've always been a careful, plodding fellow, and such a screw, that
people always looked upon me as poor; but I'm not, Hilton: and thank
Heaven, I can laugh at such a loss as that I have had! Heaven bless
you, my lad! You've won a sweet, true woman for your wife; and let me
tell you that you've won a rich one. My lassie's marriage portion is
twenty thousand pounds on the day she becomes your wife, and she'll have
more than double that when the doctor kills me some day, as I am sure he
will."
"Mr Stuart!" cried Hilton.
"Hold your tongue, lad--not a word! Good-night, Mrs Bolter. Doctor,
old friend, if you don't take me up to Perowne's, and prescribe pipes
and a glass o' whuskee, I shall sit down and cry like a child."
He was already at the door, and the doctor followed him out, leaving
Hilton, as he afterwards told his old companion, not knowing whether he
was awake or in a dream.
But he was awake decidedly, as Mrs Bolter could have told, for
dream-kisses never sound so loud as those which he printed on the lips
of his future wife.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Oh, it's all right!" said Chumbley; "and I wish you joy! I knew the
little lassie loved you months ago!"