CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME
‘Suddenly, a mighty jerk
A mighty mischief did.’
IN the meantime Emily and Jane went on very prosperously at home, looking
forward to the return of the rest of the party on Saturday, the 17th of
July. In this, however, they were doomed to disappointment, for neither
Mr. Mohun nor Mr. Hawkesworth could wind up their affairs so as to return
before the 24th. Maurice’s holidays commenced on Monday the 19th, and
Claude offered to go home on the same day, and meet him, but in a general
council it was determined to the contrary. Claude was wanted to stay for
a concert on Thursday, and both Mr. Mohun and Eleanor thought Maurice,
without Reginald, would not be formidable for a few days.
At first he seemed to justify this opinion. He did not appear to have
any peculiar pursuit, unless such might be called a very earnest attempt
to make Phyllis desist from her favourite preface of ‘I’ll tell you
what,’ and to reform her habit of saying, ‘Please for,’ instead of ‘If
you please.’ He walked with the sisters, carried messages for Mr.
Devereux, performed some neat little bits of carpentry, and was very
useful and agreeable.
On Wednesday afternoon Lord Rotherwood and Florence called, their heads
the more full of the 30th because the Marquis had not once thought of it
while Mr. Devereux was ill. Among the intended diversions fireworks were
mentioned, and from that moment rockets, wheels, and serpents, commenced
a wild career through Maurice’s brain. Through the whole evening he
searched for books on what he was pleased to call the art of
pyrotechnics, studied them all Wednesday, and the next morning announced
his intention of making some fireworks on a new plan.
‘No, you must not,’ said Emily, ‘you will be sure to do mischief.’
‘I am going to ask Wat for some powder,’ was Maurice’s reply, and he
walked off.
‘Stop him, Jane, stop him,’ cried Emily. ‘Nothing can be so dangerous.
Tell him how angry papa would be.’
Though Jane highly esteemed her brother’s discretion, she did not much
like the idea of his touching powder, and she ran after him to suggest
that he had better wait till papa’s return.
‘Then Redgie will be at home,’ said Maurice, ‘and I could not be
answerable for the consequence of such a careless fellow touching
powder.’
This great proof of caution quite satisfied Jane, but not so Wat
Greenwood, who proved himself a faithful servant by refusing to let
Master Maurice have one grain of gunpowder without express leave from the
squire. Maurice then had recourse to Jane, and his power over her was
such as to triumph over strong sense and weak notions of obedience, so
that she was prevailed upon to supply him with the means of making the
dangerous and forbidden purchase.
Emily was both annoyed and alarmed when she found that the gunpowder was
actually in the house, and she even thought of sending a note to the
parsonage to beg Mr. Devereux to speak to Maurice; but Jane had gone over
to the enemy, and Emily never could do anything unsupported. Besides,
she neither liked to affront Maurice nor to confess herself unable to
keep him in order; and she, therefore, tried to put the whole matter out
of her head, in the thoughts of an expedition to Raynham, which she was
about to make in the manner she best liked, with Jane in the close
carriage, and the horses reluctantly spared from their farm work.
As they were turning the corner of the lane they overtook Phyllis and
Adeline on their way to the school with some work, and Emily stopped the
carriage, to desire them to send off a letter which she had left on the
chimney-piece in the schoolroom. Then proceeding to Raynham, they made
their visits, paid Emily’s debts, performed their commissions, and met
the carriage again at the bookseller’s shop, at the end of about two
hours.
‘Look here, Emily!’ exclaimed Jane. ‘Read this! can it be Mrs. Aylmer?’
‘The truly charitable,’ said Emily, contemptuously. ‘Mrs. Aylmer is
above—’
‘But read. It says “unbeneficed clergyman and deceased nobleman,” and
who can that be but Uncle Rotherwood and Mr. Aylmer.’
‘Well, let us see,’ said Emily, ‘those things are always amusing.’
It was an appeal to the ‘truly charitable,’ from the friends of the widow
of an unbeneficed clergyman of the diocese, one of whose sons had, it was
said, by the kindness of a deceased nobleman, received the promise of an
appointment in India, of which he was unable to avail himself for want of
the funds needful for his outfit. This appeal was, it added, made
without the knowledge of the afflicted lady, but further particulars
might be learnt by application to E. F., No. 5 West Street, Raynham.
‘E. F. is plainly that bustling, little, old Miss Fitchett, who wrote to
papa for some subscription,’ said Emily. ‘You know she is a regular
beggar, always doing these kind of things, but I can never believe that
Mrs. Aylmer would consent to appear in this manner.’
‘Ah! but it says without her knowledge,’ said Jane. ‘Don’t you remember
Rotherwood’s lamenting that they were forgotten?’
‘Yes, it is shocking,’ said Emily; ‘the clergyman that married papa and
mamma!’
‘Ask Mr. Adam what he knows,’ said Jane.
Emily accordingly applied to the bookseller, and learnt that Mrs. Aylmer
was indeed the person intended. ‘Something must be done,’ said she,
returning to Jane. ‘Our name will be a help.’
‘Speak to Aunt Rotherwood,’ said Jane. ‘Or suppose we apply to Miss
Fitchett, we should have time to drive that way.’
‘I am sure I shall not go to Miss Fitchett,’ said Emily, ‘she only longs
for an excuse to visit us. What can you be thinking of? Lend me your
pencil, Jenny, if you please.’
And Emily wrote down, ‘Miss Mohun, £5,’ and handed to the bookseller all
that she possessed towards paying her just debts to Lilias. While she
was writing, Jane had turned towards the window, and suddenly exclaiming,
‘There is Ben! Oh! that gunpowder!’ darted out of the shop. She had
seen the groom on horseback, and the next moment she was asking
breathlessly, ‘Is it Maurice?’
‘No, Miss Jane; but Miss Ada is badly burnt, and Master Maurice sent me
to fetch Mr. Saunders.’
‘How did it happen?’
‘I can’t say, Miss; the schoolroom has been on fire, and Master Maurice
said the young ladies had got at the gunpowder.’
Emily had just arrived at the door, looking dreadfully pale, and followed
by numerous kind offers of salts and glasses of water; but Jane,
perceiving that at least she had strength to get into the carriage,
refused them all, helped her in, and with instant decision, desired to be
driven to the surgeon’s. Emily obeyed like a child, and threw herself
back in the carriage without a word; Jane trembled like an aspen leaf;
but her higher spirit took the lead, and very sensibly she managed,
stopping at Mr. Saunders’s door to offer to take him to Beechcroft, and
getting a glass of sal-volatile for Emily while they were waiting for
him. His presence was a great relief, for Emily’s natural courtesy made
her exert herself, and thus warded off much that would have been very
distressing.
In the meantime we will return to Beechcroft, where Emily’s request
respecting her letter had occasioned some discussion between the little
girls, as they returned from a walk with Marianne. Phyllis thought that
Emily meant them to wafer the letter, since they were under strict orders
never to touch fire or candle; but Ada argued that they were to seal it,
and that permission to light a candle was implied in the order. At last,
Phyllis hoped the matter might be settled by asking Maurice to seal the
letter, and meeting him at the front door, she began, in fortunately,
with ‘Please, Maurice—’
‘I never listen to anything beginning with please,’ said Maurice, who was
in a great hurry, ‘only don’t touch my powder.’
Away he went, deaf to all his sister’s shouts of ‘Maurice, Maurice,’ and
they went in, Ada not sorry to be unheard, as she was bent on the grand
exploit of lighting a lucifer match, but Phyllis still pleading for the
wafer. They found the schoolroom strewed with Maurice’s preparations for
fireworks, and Emily’s letter on the chimney-piece.
‘Let us take the letter downstairs, and put on a wafer,’ said Phyllis.
‘Won’t you come, Ada?’
‘No, the stamps are here, and so are the matches, I can do it easily.’
‘But Ada, Ada, it would be naughty. Only wait, and I will show you such
a pretty wafer that I know of in the drawing-room. I will run and fetch
it.’
Phyllis went, and Ada stood a few moments in doubt, looking at the
letter. The recollection of duty was not strong enough to balance the
temptation, and she took up a match and drew it along the sandpaper. It
did not light—a second pull, and the flame appeared more suddenly than
she had expected, while at the same moment the lock of the door turned,
and fancying it was Maurice, she started, and dropped the match. Phyllis
opened the door, heard a loud explosion and a scream, saw a bright flash
and a cloud of smoke. She started back, but the next moment again opened
the door, and ran forward. Hannah rushed in at the same time, and caught
up Ada, who had fallen to the ground. A light in the midst of the smoke
made Phyllis turn, and she beheld the papers on the table on fire.
Maurice’s powder-horn was in the midst, but the flames had not yet
reached it, and, mindful of Claude’s story, she sprung forward, caught it
up, and dashed it through the window; she felt the glow of the fire upon
her cheek, and stood still as if stunned, till Hannah carried Ada out of
the room, and screamed to her to come away, and call Joseph. The table
was now one sheet of flame, and Phyllis flew to the pantry, where she
gave the summons in almost inaudible tones. The servants hurried to the
spot, and she was left alone and bewildered; she ran hither and thither
in confusion, till she met Hannah, eagerly asking for Master Maurice, and
saying that the surgeon must be instantly sent for, as Ada’s face and
neck were badly burnt. Phyllis ran down, calling Maurice, and at length
met him at the front door, looking much frightened, and asking for Ada.
‘Oh! Maurice, her face and neck are burnt, and badly. She does scream?’
‘Did I not tell you not to meddle with the powder?’ said Maurice.
‘Indeed, I could not help it,’ said Phyllis.
‘Stuff and nonsense! It is very well that you have not killed Ada, and I
think that would have made you sorry.’
Phyllis with difficulty mentioned Hannah’s desire that a surgeon should
be sent for: Maurice went to look for Ben, and she followed him. Then he
began asking how she had done the mischief.
‘I do not know,’ said she, ‘I do not much think I did it.’
‘Mind, you can’t humbug me. Did you not say that you touched the
powder?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘No buts,’ said Maurice, making the most of his brief authority. ‘I hate
false excuses. What were you doing when it exploded?’
‘Coming into the room.’
‘Oh! that accounts for it,’ said Maurice, ‘the slightest vibration causes
an explosion of that sort of rocket, and of course it was your bouncing
into the room! You have had a lesson against rushing about the house.
Come, though, cheer up, Phyl, it is a bad business, but it might have
been worse; you will know better next time. Don’t cry, Phyl, I will
explain to you all about the patent rocket.’
‘But do you really think that I blew up Ada?’
‘Blew up Ada! caused the powder to ignite. The inflammable matter—’
As he spoke he followed Phyllis to the nursery, and there was so much
shocked, that he could no longer lord it over her, but shrinking back,
shut himself up in his room, and bolted the door.
Nearly an hour passed away before the arrival of Emily, Jane, and Mr.
Saunders. Phyllis ran down, and meeting them at the door, exclaimed,
‘Oh! Emily, poor Ada! I am so sorry.’
The sisters hurried past her to the nursery, where Ada was lying on the
bed, half undressed, and her face, neck, and arm such a spectacle that
Emily turned away, ready to faint. Mr. Saunders was summoned, and
Phyllis thrust out of the room. She sat down on the step of the stairs,
resting her forehead on her knees, and trembling, listened to the sounds
of voices, and the screams which now and then reached her ears. After a
time she was startled by hearing herself called from the stairs _by
below_ a voice which she had not heard for many weeks, and springing up,
saw Mr. Devereux leaning on the banisters. The great change in his
appearance frightened her almost as much as the accident itself, and she
stood looking at him without speaking. ‘Phyllis,’ said he, in a voice
hoarse with agitation, ‘what is it? tell me at once.’
She could not speak, and her wild and frightened air might well give him
great alarm. She pointed to the nursery, and put her finger to her lips,
and he, beckoning to her to follow him, went downstairs, and turning into
the drawing-room, said, as he sank down upon the sofa, ‘Now, Phyllis,
what has happened?’
‘The gunpowder—I made it go off, and it has burnt poor Ada’s face! Mr.
Saunders is there, and she screams—’
Phyllis finding herself ready to roar, left off speaking, and laying her
head on the table, burst into an agony of crying, while Mr. Devereux was
too much exhausted to address her; at last she exclaimed: ‘I hear the
nursery door; he is going!’
She flew to the door, and listened, and then called out, ‘Emily, Jane,
here is Cousin Robert!’
Jane came down, leaving Emily to finish hearing Mr. Saunders’s
directions. She was even more shocked at her cousin’s looks than Phyllis
had been, and though she tried to speak cheerfully, her manner scarcely
agreed with her words. ‘It is all well, Robert, I am sorry you have been
so frightened. It is but a slight affair, though it looks so shocking.
There is no danger. But, oh, Robert! you ought not to be here. What
shall we do for you? you are quite knocked up.’
‘Oh! no,’ said Mr. Devereux, ‘I am only a little out of breath. A
terrible report came to me, and I set off to learn the truth. I should
like to hear what Mr. Saunders says of her.’
‘I will call him in here before he goes,’ said Jane; ‘how tired you are;
you have not been out before.’
‘Only to the gate to speak to Rotherwood yesterday, and prevent him from
coming in,’ said Mr. Devereux, ‘but I have great designs for Sunday.
They come home to-morrow, do not they?’
Jane was much relieved by hearing her cousin talk in this manner, and
answered, ‘Yes, and a dismal coming home it will be; it is too late to
let them know.’
Mr. Saunders now entered, and gave a very favourable account of the
patient, saying that even the scars would probably disappear in a few
weeks. His gig had come from Raynham, and he offered to set Mr. Devereux
down at the parsonage, a proposal which the latter was very glad to
accept. Emily and Jane had leisure, when they were gone, to inquire into
the manner of the accident. Phyllis answered that Maurice said that her
banging the door had made the powder go off. Jane then asked where
Maurice was, and Phyllis reporting that he was in his own room, she
repaired thither, and knocked twice without receiving an answer. On her
call, however, he opened the door; she saw that he had been in tears, and
hastened to tell him Mr. Saunders’s opinion. He fastened the door again
as soon as she had entered. ‘If I could have thought it!’ sighed he.
‘Fool that I was, not to lock the door!’
‘Then you were not there? Phyllis says that she did it by banging the
door. Is not that nonsense?’
‘Not at all. Did I not read to you in the _Year Book of Facts_ about the
patent signal rockets, which explode with the least vibration, even when
a carriage goes by? Now, mine was on the same principle. I was making
an experiment on the ingredients; I did not expect to succeed the first
time, and so I took no precautions. Well! Pyrotechnics are a dangerous
science! Next time I study them it shall be at the workshop at the Old
Court.’
Maurice was sincerely sorry for the consequence of his disobedience, and
would have been much to be pitied had it not been for his secret
satisfaction in the success of his art. He called his sister into the
schoolroom to explain how it happened. The room was a dismal sight,
blackened with smoke, and flooded with water, the table and part of the
floor charred, a mass of burnt paper in the midst, and a stifling smell
of fire. A pane of glass was shattered, and Maurice ran down to the lawn
to see if he could find anything there to account for it. The next
moment he returned, the powder-horn in his hand. ‘See, Jenny, how
fortunate that this was driven through the window with the force of the
explosion. The whole place might have been blown to atoms with such a
quantity as this.’
‘Then what was it that blew up?’ asked Jane.
‘What I had put out for my rocket, about two ounces. If this half-pound
had gone there is no saying what might have happened.’
‘Now, Maurice,’ said Jane, ‘I must go back to Ada, and will you run down
to the parsonage with a parcel, directed to Robert, that you will find in
the hall?’
This was a device to occupy Maurice, who, as Jane saw, was so restless
and unhappy that she did not like to leave him, much as she was wanted
elsewhere. He went, but afraid to see his cousin, only left the parcel
at the door. As he was going back he heard a shout, and looking round
saw Lord Rotherwood mounted on Cedric, his most spirited horse, galloping
up the lane. ‘Maurice!’ cried he, ‘what is all this? they say the New
Court is blown up, and you and half the girls killed, but I hope one part
is as true as the other.’
‘Nobody is hurt but Ada,’ said Maurice, ‘but her face is a good deal
burnt.’
‘Eh? then she won’t be fit for the 30th, poor child! tell me how it was,
make haste. I heard it from Mr. Burnet as I came down to dinner. We
have a dozen people at dinner. I told him not to mention it to my
mother, and rode off to hear the truth. Make haste, half the people were
come when I set off.’
The horse’s caperings so discomposed Maurice that he could scarcely
collect his wits enough to answer: ‘Some signal rocket on a new
principle—detonating powder, composed of oxymuriate—Oh! Rotherwood, take
care!’
‘Speak sense, and go on.’
‘Then Phyllis came in, banged the door, and the vibration caused the
explosion,’ said Maurice, scared into finishing promptly.
‘Eh! banging the door? You had better not tell that story at school.’
‘But, Rotherwood, the deton—Oh! that horse—you will be off!’
‘Not half so dangerous as patent rockets. Is Emily satisfied with such
stuff?’
‘Don’t you know that fulminating silver—’
‘What does Robert Devereux say?’
‘Really, Rotherwood, I could show you—’
‘Show me? No; if rockets are so perilous I shall have nothing to do with
them. Stand still, Cedric! Just tell me about Ada. Is there much harm
done?’
‘Her face is scorched a good deal, but they say it will soon be right.’
‘I am glad—we will send to inquire to-morrow, but I cannot come—ha, ha! a
new infernal machine. Good-bye, Friar Bacon.’
Away he went, and Maurice stood looking after him with complacent
disdain. ‘There they go, Cedric and Rotherwood, equally well provided
with brains! What is the use of talking science to either?’
It was late when he reached the house, and his two sisters shortly came
down to tea, with news that Adeline was asleep and Phyllis was going to
bed. The accident was again talked over.
‘Well,’ said Emily, ‘I do not understand it, but I suppose papa will.’
‘The telling papa is a bad part of the affair, with William and Eleanor
there too,’ said Jane.
‘I do not mean to speak to Phyllis about it again,’ said Emily, ‘it makes
her cry so terribly.’
‘It will come out fast enough,’ sighed Maurice. ‘Good-night.’
More than once in the course of the night did poor Phyllis wake and cry,
and the next day was the most wretched she had ever spent; she was not
allowed to stay in the nursery, and the schoolroom was uninhabitable, so
she wandered listlessly about the garden, sometimes creeping down to the
churchyard, where she looked up at the old tower, or pondered over the
graves, and sometimes forgetting her troubles in converse with the dogs,
in counting the rings in the inside of a foxglove flower, or in rescuing
tadpoles stranded on the broad leaf of a water-lily.
[Picture: Rescuing tadpoles stranded on the broad leaf of a
water-lily.—p. 247]
Her sisters and brothers were not less forlorn. Emily sighed and
lamented; Adeline was feverish and petulant; and Jane toiled in vain to
please and soothe both, and to comfort Maurice; but with all her
good-temper and good-nature she had not the spirit which alone could
enable her to be a comfort to any one. Ada whined, fretted, and was
disobedient, and from Maurice she met with nothing but rebuffs; he was
silent and sullen, and spent most of the day in the workshop, slowly
planing scraps of deal board, and watching with a careless eye the curled
shavings float to the ground.
In the course of the afternoon Alethea and Marianne came to inquire after
the patient. Jane came down to them and talked very fast, but when they
asked for a further explanation of the cause of the accident, Jane
declared that Maurice said it was impossible that any one who did not
understand chemistry should know how it happened, and Alethea went away
strongly reminded that it was no affair of hers.
Notes passed between the New Court and the vicarage, but Mr. Devereux was
feeling the effect of his yesterday’s exertion too much to repeat it, and
no persuasion of the sisters could induce Maurice to visit him.