_HUSBAND AND WIFE._
Alice stood rooted to the spot, utterly confounded by the words and
look of her mistress. Surely she had been dreaming, and had fancied
this strange thing! Or could it be that there was fever coming on,
and that this was the outcome of some delirious fancy? She did not
know what to do, for she felt she must not leave her lady, and yet
Odeyne's mood was imperious and excited. It was a great relief to
hear steps upon the stairs, and to know that others had entered the
house.
Guy, Cissy, and Jem came breathlessly in, evidently anxious to know
whether Odeyne was alarmed by the news of the fire at the Chase. The
sight of her face was enough to show them that she knew what had
happened. Guy came quickly forward, and placed her upon the couch
again.
"Do not be frightened, _Schwesterling_," he said. "It is not the
house itself, only some of the outbuildings, they say. I will go and
see, and bring you word again, and Cissy and Jem shall stay and take
care of you."
"Guy, Guy, Desmond is there! I saw him just now! He ran past with
such a look on his face. Go and tell him where we are. Bring him
back to me. You will find him. You will see him. He is not much
changed. Don't lose a moment. I am not dreaming, and I am not
ill--though I can see you all think so. It really was Desmond. I
have made no mistake. It is not so very strange either, is it? He
was on his way back--I always said so; and, seeing the fire, of
course he would think we were in danger, and would run to our rescue.
He does not know we are here. Go and find him and tell him. Bring
him back to me, quickly! Never mind anything else, only bring
Desmond back."
Guy gazed at her in amaze; but Cissy, with her quick feminine
instincts, took all in in a moment, and believed.
"Come, Guy, come!" she cried in excitement. "We will go together.
We will find Desmond! Yes, Odeyne, darling, be quiet and patient.
We will find him and bring him to you. Jem, you must stay with
Odeyne; but we will not be long gone. Come, Guy, don't let us waste
a moment! We will go and find him, and tell him where to find
Odeyne."
Guy let himself be hurried away, though considerably perplexed as to
what could have happened. Jem came up and sat down beside Odeyne,
her face kindling and flushing with excitement.
"Is it really, really he, Odeyne?" she asked.
"Really and truly it is. I saw him as plainly as I see you, Jem. I
don't wonder they think I was dreaming; but I know I am not mistaken.
Desmond is there. They will find him and bring him to me. I always
said he would come back at Christmas-time! I felt it all over me!"
and her eyes kindled with happy tears.
Jem could not remain quiet; she moved to the window, and then to and
fro between that and the next room, where a better view of the glow
from the fire could be obtained.
"They say it isn't the house, but they are afraid for the stackyard,"
she said, coming back, after having interviewed some passers-by from
the window. "General Mannering has a big party to-night to dinner,
and probably everybody was busy, so the fire was not noticed at
first. But if it isn't the house it won't matter so much. I hope
the stables are all right, and the poor dear horses!"
Odeyne lay on her couch; Alice could not persuade her to go to bed;
and Jem ran hither and thither collecting scraps of news, to which
Odeyne scarcely listened.
She seemed absorbed in one thought; all her faculties seemed
concentrated into the act of listening for certain sounds, for one
particular voice.
Jem by-and-by ceased to worry her with information, but went down to
the door and peered out into the dark night, wondering what was
happening, and whether they had found Desmond, or if it were all a
strange delusion and mistake of Odeyne's.
How long they had been gone! Why did not somebody come back? It was
bad for Odeyne, being kept in suspense so long.
Jem had a mind to scud away up to the Chase herself, and see if she
could not learn something there. But she was not used to being out
alone after dark, and she felt a certain shrinking from encountering
the rough village lads and other curious spectators that the glow in
the sky was drawing from all quarters. So she stood in the doorway
hesitating and listening, whilst the flickering redness in the sky
seemed, she fancied, to decrease a little.
Hark! what was that? Surely those were familiar voices. Yes, she
was certain she heard Guy speaking; and there was another voice,
Edmund's she fancied, answering him.
Of course Edmund might be there. Was he not one of General
Mannering's guests? She was sure she had heard so. What were they
saying? Why did they come so slowly?
"Somebody had better prepare her." Surely that was Edmund who spoke
those words. "You go, Guy. She will take it best from you. Don't
alarm her--but let her be prepared."
Jem was quivering all over by that time. What was it that had
happened? Why did not Desmond speak, if he were there?
What was the thing that must be broken to Odeyne? Was it that she
had been mistaken? That there was no Desmond after all? Oh, it
would be a cruel blow if this were so.
"Guy, what is it? What has happened? Come quick and tell me!" she
cried, as Guy's figure suddenly loomed up before her as he strode
rapidly forward. "Have you found Desmond? What is it? Don't say he
is not there! I don't know what Odeyne will do if she is
disappointed of her hope."
Guy came forward out of the darkness with a rather strange look upon
his face.
"Hush, Jem!" he said, "Desmond is close behind. But I must see
Odeyne instantly; you run and tell Alice to get a bed ready
immediately, and have everything ready for a patient. Desmond has
been hurt, but nobody knows yet how much. Now, don't delay me, for I
can tell you nothing more. Go to Alice, and I will go to Odeyne."
Jem was her father's daughter all over. Let there be something to do
for the sick, and she was full of energy and resource. In a moment
all her quiverings and excitements were over, and she went about with
Alice making ready a room for Desmond with a self-control and
quickness that would have astonished many persons, who looked upon
her as something between an invalid and a harum-scarum.
Guy went straight up to Odeyne, met the eager glance of her eyes with
a smile, and came across taking her hands in his as he said in quiet,
even tones--
"Desmond has come back--you were quite right. It was he whom you
saw"; but when she would have sprung to her feet he held her gently
back, and continued in the same composed fashion, "Wait a moment,
_Schwesterling_, I have something else to say not quite so welcome.
Desmond was rather rash in his mistaken zeal. He has had a fall, and
is rather hurt. But he is being brought back here, for you to have
him under your care. However, he will not be here for a few minutes
yet; and you must not get excited, or we shall have two patients to
nurse instead of one."
Odeyne bit her lip, and a little shiver passed through her frame; but
the old confidence in Guy, which had always been such a strong factor
in her life, enabled her to conquer herself now.
"He is not--dead--nor dying?" she breathed.
"Oh no, there are no fears of that sort. Be calm, darling. I quite
hope he is not even badly hurt; but you know what the confusion is at
such a time. Edmund and Cuthbert and Tom are bringing him back, and
when once we get him to bed we shall soon see what ails him; and your
face (if you can be calm and good) will be his best medicine when he
comes to himself."
"I will be quite calm," said Odeyne, clasping Guy's hands in her own;
"but tell me what has happened."
"It was a curious thing," answered Guy. "Just one of those accidents
that come from people losing their heads. The fire itself was
confined to the outbuildings and some of the stacks. It has been
rather disastrous there, though everything is fully insured. The
house itself was not thought even in danger and was in no danger; and
yet through the carelessness of some servant your little boudoir,
Odeyne, has been nearly burnt out."
"My little room over the porch?"
"Yes, it seems that when the alarm of fire was given, some foolish
maid was up there. She must have drawn back the curtains and thrown
up the window to look what was going on, and then have rushed off
without closing them again. The consequence was that some light
drapery was blown across the lamp upon the table, and whilst
everybody was out at the other side of the house busy with the real
fire, this minor conflagration blazed away merrily and unheeded."
"Yes, yes; but about Desmond?"
"You see, Desmond must have come rushing up--just as you
described--and he apparently was the first to catch sight of the glow
from the window which he supposed yours. We think he must have
believed that you were in some danger; for he commenced climbing up
the ivy towards the window, like a cat, and had nearly reached it,
when he suddenly lost his foothold, or a branch broke, and he came
down with a rush and a fall of brick rubble. He was stunned by the
fall; and by that time there were plenty of people on the spot. We
got him away, and before we were able to have him carried here we saw
that they had got the secondary fire well under. That is the whole
story; there is nothing behind. Desmond has been hurt, but probably
not badly; and we knew you would rather have him brought here than
taken anywhere else, though there are plenty of houses open to him,
as I need not tell you."
Odeyne nipped Guy's hand in token of gratitude; but her ears had
caught the sound of heavy footsteps in the house, and she sat up, her
colour coming and going. Guy still held her gently back.
"You shall go to him as soon as ever they have got him to bed. Just
now you would only hinder; and you know you must not do what will
throw you back yourself. You have baby to think for as well as
Desmond. I will not keep you from him a moment longer than is good
for you both."
Odeyne lay back submissively, the flitting colour in her face alone
telling her excitement. Jem came in softly with shining eyes, but
very quiet and calm.
"Tom says he has managed the journey capitally. They will make him
comfortable in bed, and then you shall go to him, Odeyne. He is not
himself yet; but Tom says he spoke once, and asked, 'Is Odeyne all
safe, and the boy?' So you see he does know where he is, and that he
has got home."
It seemed long before Odeyne was summoned, but she bore the waiting
well. To feel that Desmond was back--was beneath the same roof--was
her own once more, went far to keep up her heart and courage.
Perhaps the very knowledge that he could not again disappear from her
side as he had done six months before, kept her quiet and at rest.
When Dr. Ritchie and his sons came in to reassure her, they found her
wonderfully calm and tranquil.
"He will do very well, my dear," said the doctor kindly. "He has a
broken ankle, which will keep him to his bed for some time, but that
is the worst that has befallen him; the bruises outside and in will
have ample time to set themselves to rights whilst he is tied by the
leg. Yes, you may go and sit beside him for a little while; but
don't talk much--for both your sakes. And then you will let Alice
put you to bed--like a good child; for we did not mean you to have
had quite such an exciting Christmas Day."
Odeyne smiled her thanks to all, but had no words for any.
She took Guy's arm and passed on to the room where Desmond lay.
She had no thoughts now save for him; and when she saw him lying
there with half-closed eyes and white cheek, she bent over him and
kissed him, saying softly--
"Desmond! Dear husband, do you know me?"
He stirred a little, opened his eyes for a moment, and moved his hand.
"Odeyne!" he breathed faintly, and returned the kiss she pressed upon
his lips.
She sat beside him holding his hand, and he sank into a quiet sleep.
Then she let Alice take her away, for Cissy had declared her
intention of sitting up through the night with Desmond; and Cissy was
known as one of the best of nurses, so there was no fear of any harm
coming during her vigil, and Guy would remain in the house, getting
snatches of sleep upon the sofa, and always within call if anything
should be wanted.
But the night passed quite tranquilly, Desmond and Odeyne sleeping
peacefully in the consciousness of their close proximity; and before
Desmond had fully roused himself to a consciousness of his
surroundings, Odeyne was at his side once again, with the little new
daughter lying upon her lap, ready to be introduced to her father.
The sun shone brightly into the room. Everything was beautifully
neat and in order. Flowers had been sent to Odeyne from many
quarters since her illness, and the best and sweetest of these were
collected to make bright this particular room.
Desmond had been sleeping fitfully for some while; suddenly his eyes
flashed open, and met those of Odeyne bent earnestly upon him. He
lay gazing at her, almost as though afraid to break the spell, and
then said softly--
"Is it really you, my darling?"
She laid her hand in his, and he carried it to his lips.
"Oh, my dearest, dearest love--how good it is to see you once more
after this weary while of waiting!"
"Why did you wait so long, Desmond dear? It was such a weary waiting
for us!"
"Was it? I thought it would be nothing but relief to you. I had
been so unworthy, so wicked, so reckless. I thought the best and
kindest thing that I could do for those who had ever cared for me was
to vanish out of their lives, and give no sign. I was humbled to the
very dust!"
"Did you think I should love you less because you had been through
deep waters, and were in trouble?"
"I don't know what I thought! I think I was mad with the shame and
the horror. I wanted to hide my head for ever. I could not bear to
face those whom I had injured. I don't know how I have the courage
to face them now. But it seemed as though I were being drawn back
home by cords I could not break. I had to come. I could struggle no
longer."
"You see, so many people were praying for your return," said Odeyne
simply. "That was the power, I think."
He gazed at her with hungry eyes; and then he saw the white bundle
upon her lap, and his face flushed and changed.
"It is your little daughter," she said, holding up the wee face, so
that he could look at it. "She has been with us a fortnight now, and
is doing very well, though she was the very tiniest of tiny things
when she appeared. Shall we have little Guy in to see you, dearest?
Or will it be too much?"
"The little chap! Oh, let us have him by all means," answered
Desmond, who had been much moved at the sight of the child, of whose
existence he had not been aware till now. He could not speak of it
even to his wife; but Odeyne understood the silent pressure of his
hand, and her heart swelled within her as she realised that there had
come a change over Desmond during these months of absence. Suffering
had taught him lessons which he had never learnt in prosperity, and
had probed depths in his nature which had never been ruffled before.
Instinctively Odeyne felt that this was a new Desmond come back to
her--the old love deepened, and purified, and mingled with something
that she had looked for in vain of old.
Little Guy came in in great excitement, for he had been told that
Daddy had come home, and was eagerly impatient to see him again. He
was a very fine little fellow by this time, with a considerable
command of words; and Desmond was delighted with him, and found it
hard to let him go.
Later in the day, when husband and wife were again alone together,
the first sense of strained emotion having merged into gentler and
quieter happiness, Desmond began to ask questions.
"Where are we, Odeyne? I do not remember this room, nor the view
from the window, though the furniture is familiar."
"We are at the Lodge, dearest. I have been living here since June.
It makes such a comfortable home for us, and there is plenty of room
for us all."
"The Lodge! why so it is! Those new rooms we built on. But why here
instead of the Chase, Odeyne? You had ample means to keep that on."
"Yes, dear; but I had no desire to do so. It was so big and so
lonely; and I wanted to help others who--who--had suffered through
the same crash that brought this trouble to us. I could not have
been happy living like that--when others had lost their all. Edmund
saw them, and heard what they had to say; and we reckoned that by
selling a good deal off, and letting the Chase for three years
furnished, and living quietly here, all could be put right, and
people set going and kept going, who had any moral claim upon us.
There were not so very many. The poor Neils and a few others--just
friends who had trusted us, and who owed their ruin to our advice. I
could not bear to go on living as though nothing had happened, when
they were driven to desperation. You are not angry, Desmond, dear?
Of course I would have asked your leave if I had known where you
were."
Desmond had turned his head away, and was biting his lips.
"My brave, noble, true-hearted wife!" he exclaimed at last, in tones
of deep emotion. "I had not dreamed of such a thing--and yet I might
have known--knowing what a treasure I had won! And the thought of
the misery of those poor things has been weighing me down like a
nightmare. They had trusted me with their money, and I had lost
it--lost it almost with open eyes. Legally I was not guilty; but in
my heart I was. For when I took it I thought of nothing but my own
gain; I threw it away in the wild hope of propping up what I ought to
have known by that time was nothing but a gigantic swindle. I had my
suspicions, but I would not listen or think. I let myself be led and
driven on and on. And you, my wife, have borne the brunt of it all!"
"It would have been easier had you been here to share it, Desmond,"
answered Odeyne; "but it seemed little enough to do, and Guy and
Edmund stood by me through it all. And to see the happy face of
little Mrs. Neil when a great part of their money was refunded to
them! That made up for much. She was the only one I saw myself.
The others were strangers; but I had been so sorry for her. I felt
her claim came first."
"It did. Poor Neil! I have been in despair thinking of him; just
married, and then to find himself ruined. But how did you manage to
get the money? Surely the trustees did not let you sacrifice
capital?"
"No, they had not the power, they said. We talked everything over.
But you know all the money you had thrown about on me and the house
in those two years! I told you all the time what an extravagant
creature you were! But how glad I was when the sale of all those
extravagances, and some of the horses and carriages, brought in such
a fine large sum! The hunters sold very well, and General Mannering
bought in all that he wanted for himself--he is our tenant at the
Chase, you know. I soon had enough to satisfy the Neils--for, of
course, as everybody said, speculators must put up with some loss.
They cannot expect to come off scot free. I think myself that it
would perhaps be hardly right to treat these claims just like
ordinary debts. They all knew they were speculating, although they
thought to win and not to lose. After all, Desmond, it is only
gambling in another form. Dear husband, you will not let yourself be
tempted again? Believe me, it is not riches that make our happiness.
We were more happy when we were less rich."
Desmond clasped his wife's hand closely in his as he replied--
"I dare not say 'Trust me, Odeyne,' any more. I have only too often
made promises and asseverations which have been lamentably broken;
but I pray God to give me strength to keep from such things in the
future. I have learned at least this lesson--that wealth brings as
many troubles and more temptations than modest affluence. My wife
has set me an example which I shall diligently follow. Whether or no
the world will laugh at us, we will go on as you have begun. We will
not return to our home and to our old life, until all claims which
are morally just and right have been settled. We will not have the
burden upon us of feeling that whilst we live in ease and comfort
others, by my folly, are fighting the grim battle with dire poverty
and despair. What you have begun I will carry on; and we will live
happily and contentedly in this little home until we can return to
the Chase with hearts at ease, and look every man in the face without
the feeling that he has the right to curse us in his heart."
Odeyne heard these words with a strange thrill of happiness and
relief. This, indeed, was a different Desmond from the careless,
reckless one of old. Time was when her scruples would have been
laughed or argued away. Now they were admitted and respected, and
self no longer took the place of honour in Desmond's heart.
Perhaps he read something of her thought, for he answered almost as
though she had spoken,
"Yes, Odeyne, I hope I am a different man.. My darling, I have often
thought what I must have made you suffer in old days. I would not
let your gentle counsels guide me, and you thought them lost and
quite wasted. But, believe me, the example you set me of patient
love and ceaseless dutiful obedience was not quite wasted. When I
had time to think--when I saw everything in a different light--then I
knew what my wife had been to me all this while, and how unworthy I
had been of such love and so many prayers. Yes, Odeyne, I thought of
the days when we prayed together, and my heart smote me for that time
when I prayed no more, and refused to gather our household together
to ask a blessing upon it. I saw how, little by little, the blessing
had been taken away--and yet not altogether, for were you not always
praying? But I had dishonoured God, privately and publicly, and He
had turned in a measure away from me. I saw it all. I was humbled
to the very dust. Shame and sorrow took hold upon me, and I knew not
which way to turn. It seemed to me that I must fight out the battle
alone between myself and God before I could come back. I may have
been wrong, I may have been selfish. But that was what it seemed to
me. I was like the prodigal son in the far country. I was miserable
and deserted and wretched; but at last there came the day, even for
me, when a voice in my heart bid me arise, and go back whence I had
come; and I obeyed it, and here I am."
There were tears upon Odeyne's cheek as she bent down and kissed him
again and again; and then lifting her head suddenly in a listening
attitude she exclaimed--
"Here are visitors. That is Beatrice's voice. She has come to see
you and to ask news of Algernon, which I have not had time to do yet.
Oh, Desmond, it is all like a dream; but I shall begin to understand
it soon."