CHAPTER XXVIII -- THE SUBSTANCE OF THE SHADOW

“Recovery, where art thou?

Daughter of Heaven, where shall we seek thy help?”

“Come thou and chase away

Sorrow and Pain, the persecuting Powers,

Who make the melancholy day so long,

So long the anxious night.”

“I look for thy approach,

O life-preserving Power! as one who strays

Alone in darkness o'er the pathless marsh,

Watches the dawn of day.”

--_Southey_.

“ALL well so far,” replied Ellis, in answer to my look of inquiry; “the

bleeding has ceased, and he is fast recovering consciousness. Where is

the room? We must get him into bed at once.”

~221~~When we had placed him in the bed Oaklands lay for a short space

with his eyelids closed, uttering a low groan at intervals; at length

the quiet appeared in some measure to restore him, and, slowly opening

his eyes, he gazed languidly around, asking in a low voice, “Where am

I?”

“Let me beg you not to speak, Mr. Oaklands,” said Ellis; “your safety

depends upon your keeping silence; you are at the cottage of your friend

Fairlegh.”

As he heard these words Harry perceived me standing near the bed, and

smiled faintly in token of recognition; then, making a sign for me to

stoop down to him, he whispered, “My father--you must break this to

him--go, Frank”.

“This instant,” replied I, and I turned to leave the room, beckoning to

Ellis, as I did so, to follow me. “Tell me the truth,” exclaimed I, as

he closed the door behind him, “will he live or die?”

“It is too early in the business to pronounce a decided opinion,” was

the answer; “nor can I venture as yet to do so; everything depends

upon the course the ball may have taken, and that, as soon as the

other surgeon arrives, we must endeavour to ascertain; all I can say at

present is, that I have seen worse cases recover. There is one thing,”

he added, “which may be a satisfaction for you to know--if you had not

brought me, or some one in my profession, to the ground, he would have

bled to death where he fell; no one but a surgeon could have stopped

that bleeding.”

“If we had been too late I should never have forgiven myself, and we

very nearly were so,” returned I. “I cannot understand how it was.”

“I can explain it,” said Archer, who now joined us. “You left me up

at the village, you remember, Fairlegh, when you started to fetch Mr.

Ellis; well, just as I was leaving it to return to the Hall, a boy

ran past me at the top of his speed, and began knocking at one of the

cottage doors hard by; surprised to see any one about at so early an

hour in the morning, I inquired what was the matter. 'Master's just had

word brought him that some gem'men is a going to fight a jewel at five

o'clock, and I be come to call the constable, for master to give him

a warrant to take 'em hup.' 'And who is your master?' questioned I.

'Justice Bumbleby,' was the answer. This was enough for me; I made the

best of my way to the Hall, woke Oaklands, who was sleeping as calmly as

a child, poor fellow! and he immediately sent his own ~222~~groom, the

lad who went with us to the field, to inform Wilford and his second of

what I had heard, and to propose that the meeting should take place a

quarter of an hour earlier than the time originally agreed on, to which

they willingly consented.”

“This then,” thought I, “is the reason why Coleman's scheme failed, and

Cumberland arrived too late;--well, one good thing is, it will clearly

prove that neither Archer nor Oaklands connived at the intended

interruption.”

The deep, the agonising grief of Sir John Oaklands, on receiving from my

lips the account of his son's danger, was most painful to witness, and

I was obliged to yield to his desire to return with me to the cottage,

although Ellis had strictly forbidden his being allowed to see Harry,

lest the excitement should prove injurious to the patient in the

precarious state in which he lay. On my return I found the surgeon

of the neighbourhood, Mr. (or as he was more commonly styled Dr.)

Probehurt, had arrived, and that they were endeavouring to extract

the ball, which, after a long and painful operation, they succeeded

in doing. From the marks on the coat and waistcoat, it appeared that

Wilford had aimed straight for the heart; but his deadly intentions

had been providentially frustrated by the accident of Oaklands having a

half-crown piece in a small pocket in his waist-coat, against which

the ball had struck, and, glancing off, passed between two of the

ribs, finally lodging amongst the muscles immediately under the

shoulder-blade. The great effusion of blood had been occasioned by its

having divided one of the smaller arteries, which Ellis had succeeded in

securing on the spot. The wound was, therefore, a very severe one;

but it was impossible to pronounce upon the exact amount of danger at

present, as the course which the ball had taken trenched closely on

so many important organs, that time alone could show the extent of the

injury sustained. With this opinion, in which (strange to say) both

doctors agreed, we were fain to content ourselves, and we passed

the rest of the day in alternately watching by the wounded man and

attempting to comfort and support Sir John, whom we had the greatest

difficulty in keeping out of Harry's room, till Ellis asked him abruptly

“whether he wanted to murder his son?” after which nothing short of

force could have induced him to enter it. One of his first acts, having

consulted with Dr. Probehurt, who graciously approved of the measure,

was to enter into an arrangement with ~223~~Ellis, to induce him

to remain constantly with Harry till his health should be perfectly

re-established, if, indeed, that happy event was ever destined to

occur. As Sir John's liberality was unbounded, and Ellis's professional

prospects rather hazy--his practice at Harley End being chiefly confined

to the very poor, who went on the advice gratis system, and expected

to have medicine given them into the bargain--the negotiation was soon

concluded to the satisfaction of both parties.

Towards evening Harry became more restless; the pain of his wound

increased, and feverish symptoms began to make their appearance. As the

night advanced he grew delirious, and before morning was in a high state

of fever. For many days his life was despaired of. Ellis never left his

bedside, save to snatch an occasional hour's sleep on a sofa, when I

took his place. Sir Benjamin Brodie was summoned from town, and held a

consultation with Dr. Probehurt and Ellis.

Sir John's grief was something fearful to witness. Although naturally a

strong-minded man, this unlooked-for blow and the subsequent anxiety had

completely unnerved him. At times he would cry like a child; at others

he would sit for hours without opening his lips, his head resting

dejectedly on his hands, the image of despair: he could with difficulty

be prevailed upon to take sufficient nourishment for his support,

and appeared scarcely to notice anything that was going on. On these

occasions Fanny was the only person whose influence was of the slightest

avail; with her own hands she would prepare some delicacy of which

she knew he was fond, and when with a melancholy shake of the head he

rejected it, she would seat herself at his feet, and, taking his hand

within her own, whisper kind words of hope and consolation to him,

till the old man's heart was softened, and he could refuse her nothing.

Sometimes even this failed, and then she would begin singing in a low

sweet voice some plaintive simple air that he loved to hear, till the

tears would steal down his grief-worn cheeks, and, laying his hand upon

her fair young brow, he would bless her, and say that the God who was

about to take his noble son from him, had sent an angel to be a daughter

to him in his stead. And so the weary days wore on--still vibrating

between life and death, the strong man, his matchless powers now reduced

to the weakness of infancy, lay stretched upon the couch of suffering,

whence it appeared too probable he might never be removed, save to the

last sad resting-place of frail humanity--the grave.

~224~~About the eighth day the ligature with which Ellis had tied

the artery came away, and the wound assumed a rather more favourable

appearance, but the fever remained unsubdued, and the delirium

continued. Each day which passed without improvement added to the length

of Dr. Probehurt's solemn visage, and I could see that in his own mind

he had little or no hope of the patient's recovery. Ellis was by far

the most sanguine of the party, and, whenever we urged our gloomy

forebodings upon him, invariably replied--“Yes, I know all that--it

would have killed' any other man, but it won't kill him. Wait a bit, and

you'll see.”

A fortnight had now elapsed, and the continued burden of his grief began

to tell visibly upon Sir John. The ruddy hue of health faded from his

cheeks; his eyes grew dim with weeping, his hands shook, and his firm

manly step became feeble and uncertain; it seemed as if in that short

space of time he had grown ten years older. My mother also began to look

ill and harassed, and Fanny, though she still kept up wonderfully, and

was the life and soul of us all, waxed paler and thinner every day,

while, for my own part, I could neither eat, drink, nor sleep to any

efficient purpose, and divided my time between watching in the sick-room

and pacing up and down the garden, beyond the precincts of which I

never ventured, from a nervous dread lest anything might go wrong in my

absence.

On one occasion Ellis, completely wearied out, had thrown himself on

a sofa to snatch an hour's repose, while I took his place by Harry's

bedside. It was between two and three o clock in the morning, and the

first rays of early dawn, stealing in through the partially closed

shutters, and mingling with the faint glimmer of the night-lamp, threw a

pale and ghastly light over the surrounding objects, when I fancied that

I heard my name pronounced in a low, scarcely audible voice. I glanced

at Ellis, but his hard and regular breathing proved him to be sound

asleep. I next turned towards the bed where Harry lay, and, carefully

shading the lamp with my hand, advanced with noiseless step towards

it. As I approached I perceived the patient's eyes were open, and, oh,

happiness I once more animated by the mild light of reason.

“Harry,” whispered I, “did you call? Do you know me?”

A faint smile passed across his pallid features as he replied in a voice

so weak and low, that I was obliged to ~225~~stoop my head almost to a

level with his lips, ere I could catch his words--“Know you, dear Frank!

why not?”

“Thank heaven,” murmured I, “he is no longer delirious!”

As I again turned towards him, he endeavoured to stretch out his hand to

me, but his strength was unequal even to that slight exertion, and his

arm dropped heavily by his side; as it did so, he spoke again--“Frank,

what is all this? I cannot--I am very weak--very tired.”

“Lie still, dear Harry, and do not try to talk--it may do you harm. You

have been very ill, but God in His mercy will soon, I trust, restore

you to health.” I then crossed over to Ellis's sofa, and laid my hand

lightly upon his shoulder. “Oaklands is no longer delirious,” said I,

as he started up; “he knows me, and has spoken to me.”

“Is he?--does he?--has he?”--exclaimed Ellis in an eager whisper. “I

told you it would never kill him. Why didn't you call me before? but

it's always the way; if I do by any chance fall asleep once in a week,

there isn't another head properly so called in the whole house, they

might as well be chair nobs--Yes, I know,” he continued, as I attempted

to get in a word of explanation, “if you couldn't wake me before it

happened, that doesn't prevent your giving me the medicine-chest now,

does it?”

I may as well take this opportunity of mentioning that Ellis, though in

the main one of the best-tempered fellows in the world, whenever he was

particularly interested or excited, became extremely cross and snappish,

and was certain at such times to scold every one who fell in his way,

without the slightest regard to age, sex, or station. However, it was

always over in two or three minutes, and I have seen him laugh till the

tears ran down his face, when the rude things he had said were repeated

to him afterwards. While he was staying with his brother at Cambridge,

it used to be a favourite amusement with some of the men to start a

subject which they knew would excite him, for the sake of “getting a

rise out of the doctor,” as they termed it. But I am digressing.

The medicine Ellis gave Harry threw him into a heavy sleep, from which

he did not awake until late in the morning, when he appeared perfectly

conscious. The fever had in great measure abated, and on Dr. Probehurt's

arrival he was fain to confess a surprising improvement had taken place,

and that, if not positively out of danger, the patient was in a fair way

to become so. As for Ellis, he was exactly like one beside himself.

He ran all over the house--into bedrooms and all sorts of places where

~226~~he had not the slightest business, shaking hands with every one,

and repeating, “I knew it--I knew it--I always told you so--it would

have killed any other man, but it couldn't kill him!”

Let us pass in silence over the first interview between Sir John

Oaklands and his son. There are some of the deeper feelings of our

nature, planted in our bosoms by the hand of God Himself, which, when

called forth to their fullest extent by the chances of life, reveal so

clearly their divine origin, that those who witness their display stand

reverently by, and, with throbbing hearts and averted eyes, bow the

head as in presence of some holy thing; and if such pure and sacred

influences shed their lustre over that meeting, and the old man wept

tears of deep and fervent thankfulness on the neck of the son whom

he had, as it were, received from the dead, far be it from us, with

sacrilegious hand, to remove the veil which shrouds the hallowed

mysteries of feeling.

From that day Oaklands began to amend slowly, and, at the end of another

week, even the cautious Dr. Probehurt declared all immediate danger

was over; for which admission, however, he took care fully to indemnify

himself, by detailing at length every possible evil which might accrue

for the future. The state of weakness to which Harry's once herculean

frame was reduced was melancholy to witness; for many days he was unable

to turn in his bed without assistance, and even when he began to recover

his strength, it was by very slow and lingering degrees. Utterly unable

to support himself, he was lifted from his bed to a sofa, and wheeled

into the drawing-room, where all our powers of entertainment were called

into requisition to relieve the monotony of such a state of existence.

In doing this, Fanny made herself pre-eminently useful; by a sort of

intuition she appeared to divine everything he could possibly want

before he asked for it, and contrived to have it waiting his pleasure

as if by magic; and yet it was done so quietly, that I believe Harry had

not a notion to whom he was indebted for the forestalment of his every

wish. Did his lips appear parched and dry from the low fever which still

hung about him--unobserved by any one, Fanny would glide out of

the room, and in another minute his servant would enter with a tray

containing jelly, lemonade, or some refreshment of a like nature; and

Harry would say, with a languid smile, that the fairies must have been

at work, for that Wilson had brought him the very thing he was wishing

for. As he grew stronger, and ~227~~required less attention, I yielded

to his request, and once more resumed my studies, reading doubly hard in

order to make up for lost time. The duel had taken place early in June,

but it was not until the latter end of August that the surgeons would

allow of their patient's removal to the Hall. Under Ellis's directions

a kind of litter was prepared, drawn by a stout Shetland pony, and

hung upon a complicated arrangement of springs, by which means all

possibility of jolting was avoided. With the assistance of this vehicle,

Harry was enabled to take short airings in the park, and, when it was

found that no ill effects ensued, a fine day was chosen, and Heathfield

Hall flung wide its ample gates to receive once more within its walls

the heir of that noble property. It was a glad day for every one--the

old servants shed mingled tears of joy and sorrow; of joy that their

young master had been spared to come among them again, and of sorrow

when they gazed on his pallid cheeks and long thin hands, and thought

of the amount of suffering that manly frame must have undergone ere it

could have become such a wreck of its former self.

After his return home Oaklands progressed very slowly; he so far

recovered as to walk about the house and garden with the assistance of

Ellis's arm; but the wound in his side still presented an unsatisfactory

appearance, and obstinately refused to heal. Ellis's skill and attention

were unparalleled; he took the greatest interest in the case, and though

he pretended that his zeal was entirely professional, yet it was clear

the fascination which Harry seemed unconsciously to exercise over every

one who became intimate with him, had subdued even the sturdy doctor,

and that he had conceived the strongest affection for his patient.

The only one of the party on whom the fatigue and anxiety appeared

to have produced any lasting effect was dear little Fanny, and she

continued to look much more pale and thin than I liked to see her. Her

spirits, also, seemed less gay and buoyant than usual, and when Sir John

and Harry left us, and she had no longer any motive for exertion, a

kind of languor came over her, producing a listless distaste for all her

former employments; and she would sit for hours poring over one of the

Italian poets, without exchanging a word with any one. In order, if

possible, to rouse her from this state of apathy, I used every means in

my power to interest and amuse her; but, unfortunately, my time was

now so fully occupied that I had little leisure to bestow upon her. I

~228~~was to take my degree at the commencement of the new year; and,

as I had made up my mind to try for honours, I had not a moment to lose,

and read eight hours a day. The rest of my time was devoted to Sir John

and Harry (save an odd hour or two for a constitutional scamper with my

gun through the preserves to keep down the rabbits, or a gallop across

country to prevent the hunters from getting too fat), and our kind

friends were never so well pleased as when they could persuade us all

to come to them. My sister, however, seemed to prefer dreaming over her

book to the exertion of accompanying us to the Hall, and even when she

did so, appeared unequal to the labour of amusing Harry, and devoted

herself to the more easy task of pleasing Sir John, who, happy beyond

expression in the prospect of his son's recovery, was in the highest

good humour with everybody and everything. Becoming at length far from

satisfied about Fanny, I mentioned my uneasiness to my mother, who

comforted me by the assurance, that she considered it merely the natural

consequences of the fatigue and anxiety she had undergone, a sort of

reaction of the spirits, for which time and rest would prove the most

effectual cure.

And once again the leaves upon the trees grew brown, presenting, in

their varied richness, those exquisite shades of colouring that gladden

a painter's eye--and the swallows, those summer parasites, taking alarm

at the first sharp blast from the north, had departed to prosecute their

annual pursuit of sunshine under difficulties, leaving the honest

robin redbreast to renew his friendship with the race of men--when

I, dissatisfied and anxious about those I was leaving behind me, and

nervous in the highest degree as to the result of the struggle for

distinction in which I was about to engage, once more took up my abode

at Trinity.~229~~

Frank Fairlegh: Scenes from the Life of a Private Pupil · 第 28 / 35 章