A STROKE OF GOOD FORTUNE
Having finally disposed of John Wilkes's scruples as to leaving the
house during the daytime, Cyril thenceforth went out with him every
day. If the tide was in flood they rowed far up the river, and came
down on the ebb. If it was running out they went down as far as it
would take them. Whenever the wind was favourable they hoisted the
sail; at other times, they rowed. The fresh air, and the exercise,
soon did their work. Cyril at first could only take one scull, and
that only for a short time, but at the end of a fortnight was able to
manage both for a time, or to row with one for hours. The feeling of
lassitude which had oppressed him passed away speedily, the colour
came back to his cheeks, his muscles strengthened, and he began to
put on flesh.
They were now in November, and needed warm garments when on the
water, and John insisted on completely muffling him up whenever they
hoisted the sail; but the colder weather braced him up, and he was
often inclined to shout with pleasure as the wind drove the boat
along before it.
It was cheering to know that others were benefiting by the change. In
the week ending October 3rd the deaths officially given were 4,328,
though at least another thousand must be added to this, for great
numbers of deaths from the Plague were put down to other causes, and
very many, especially those of infants, were never counted at all. It
was said that as many people were infected as ever, but that the
virulence of the disease was abated, and that, whereas in August
scarce one of those attacked recovered, in October but one out of
every three died of the malady.
In the second week of October, the number of deaths by the Plague was
but 2,665, and only 1,250 in the third week, though great numbers
were still attacked. People, however, grew careless, and ran
unnecessary risks, and, in consequence, in the first week of November
the number of deaths rose by 400. After this it decreased rapidly,
and the people who had fled began to come back again--the more so
because it had now spread to other large cities, and it seemed that
there was less danger in London, where it had spent its force, than
in places where it had but lately broken out. The shops began to open
again, and the streets to reassume their former appearance.
Cyril had written several times to Captain Dowsett, telling him how
matters were going on, and in November, hearing that they were
thinking of returning, he wrote begging them not to do so.
"Many of those who have returned have fallen sick, and died," he
said. "It seems to me but a useless risk of life, after taking so
much pains to avoid infection, to hurry back before the danger has
altogether passed. In your case, Captain Dave, there is the less
reason for it, since there is no likelihood of the shipping trade
being renewed for the present. All the ports of Europe are closed to
our ships, and it is like to be a long time before they lose fear of
us. Even the coasting trade is lost for the present. Therefore, my
advice is very strongly against your returning for some weeks. All is
going on well here. I am getting quite strong again, and, by the
orders of the doctor, go out with John daily for a long row, and have
gained much benefit from it. John sends his respects. He says that
everything is ship-shape above and below, and the craft holding well
on her way. He also prays you not to think of returning at present,
and says that it would be as bad seamanship, as for a captain who has
made a good offing in a gale, and has plenty of sea-room, to run down
close to a rocky shore under the lee, before the storm has altogether
blown itself out."
Captain Dave took the advice, and only returned with his wife and
Nellie a week before Christmas.
"I am glad indeed to be back," he said, after the first greetings
were over. "'Twas well enough for the women, who used to help in the
dairy, and to feed the fowls, and gather the eggs, and make the
butter, but for me there was nothing to do, and it seemed as if the
days would never come to an end."
"It was not so bad as that, father," Nellie said. "First of all, you
had your pipe to smoke. Then, once a week you used to go over with
the market-cart to Gloucester and to look at the shipping there, and
talk with the masters and sailors. Then, on a Sunday, of course,
there was church. So there were only five days each week to get
through; and you know you took a good deal of interest in the horses
and cows and pigs."
"I tried to take an interest in them, Nellie; but it was very hard
work."
"Well, father, that is just what you were saying you wanted, and I am
sure you spent hours every day walking about with the children, or
telling them stories."
"Well, perhaps, when I think of it, it was not so very bad after
all," Captain Dave admitted. "At any rate, I am heartily glad I am
back here again. We will open the shop to-morrow morning, John."
"That we will, master. We sha'n't do much trade at present. Still, a
few coasters have come in, and I hope that every day things will get
better. Besides, all the vessels that have been lying in the Pool
since June will want painting up and getting into trim again before
they sail out of the river, so things may not be so slack after all.
You will find everything in order in the store. I have had little to
do but to polish up brass work and keep the metal from rusting. When
do the apprentices come back again?"
"I shall write for them as soon as I find that there is something for
them to do. You are not thinking of running away as soon as we come
back I hope, Cyril? You said, when you last wrote, that you were fit
for sea again."
"I am not thinking of going for some little time, if you will keep
me, Captain Dave. There is no news of the Fleet fitting out at
present, and they will not want us on board till they are just ready
to start. They say that Albemarle is to command this time instead of
the Duke, at which I am right glad, for he has fought the Dutch at
sea many times, and although not bred up to the trade, he has shown
that he can fight as steadily on sea as on land. All say the Duke
showed courage and kept a firm countenance at Lowestoft, but there
was certainly great slackness in the pursuit, though this, 'tis said,
was not so much his fault as that of those who were over-careful of
his safety. Still, as he is the heir to the throne, it is but right
that he should be kept out of the fighting."
"It is like to be stern work next time, Cyril, if what I hear be
true. Owing partly to all men's minds being occupied by the Plague,
and partly to the great sums wasted by the King in his pleasures,
nothing whatever has been done for the Fleet. Of course, the squadron
at sea has taken great numbers of prizes; but the rest of the Fleet
is laid up, and no new ships are being built, while they say that the
Dutch are busy in all their ship-yards, and will send out a much
stronger fleet this spring than that which fought us at Lowestoft. I
suppose you have not heard of any of your grand friends?"
"No. I should have written to Sydney Oliphant, but I knew not whether
he was at sea or at home, and, moreover, I read that most folks in
the country are afraid of letters from London, thinking that they
might carry contagion. Many noblemen have now returned to the West
End, and when I hear that the Earl has also come back with his family
it will, of course, be my duty to wait upon him, and on Prince Rupert
also. But I hope the Prince will not be back yet, for he will be
wanting me to go to Court again, and for this, in truth, I have no
inclination, and, moreover, it cannot be done without much expense
for clothes, and I have no intention to go into expenses on follies
or gew-gaws, or to trench upon the store of money that I had from
you, Captain Dave."
They had just finished breakfast on the day before Christmas, when
one of the apprentices came up from the shop and said that one Master
Goldsworthy, a lawyer in the Temple, desired to speak to Sir Cyril
Shenstone. Cyril was about to go down when Captain Dave said,--
"Show the gentleman up, Susan. We will leave you here to him, Cyril."
"By no means," Cyril said. "I do not know him, and he can assuredly
have no private business with me that you may not hear."
Mrs. Dowsett and her daughter, however, left the room. The lawyer, a
grave-looking gentleman of some fifty years of age, glanced at Cyril
and the Captain as he entered the room, and then advanced towards the
former.
"My name is unknown to you, Sir Cyril," he said, "but it has been
said that a bearer of good news needs no introduction, and I come in
that capacity. I bring you, sir, a Christmas-box," and he took from a
bag he carried a bundle of some size, and a letter. "Before you open
it, sir, I will explain the character of its contents, which would
take you some time to decipher and understand, while I can explain
them in a very few words. I may tell you that I am the legal adviser
of Mr. Ebenezer Harvey, of Upmead Court, Norfolk. You are, I presume,
familiar with the name?"
Cyril started. Upmead Court was the name of his father's place, but
with the name of its present owner he was not familiar. Doubtless, he
might sometimes have heard it from his father, but the latter, when
he spoke of the present possessor of the Court, generally did so as
"that Roundhead dog," or "that canting Puritan."
"The Court I know, sir," he said gravely, "as having once been my
father's, but I do not recall the name of its present owner, though
it may be that in my childhood my father mentioned it in my hearing."
"Nevertheless, sir, you know the gentleman himself, having met him,
as he tells me, frequently at the house of Mr. Wallace, who was
minister of the chapel at which he worshipped, and who came up to
London to minister to those sorely afflicted and needing comfort. Not
only did you meet with Mr. Harvey and his wife, but you rendered to
them very material service."
"I was certainly unaware," Cyril said, "that Mr. Harvey was the
possessor of what had been my father's estate, but, had I known it,
it would have made no difference in my feeling towards him. I found
him a kind and godly gentleman whom, more than others there, was good
enough to converse frequently with me, and to whom I was pleased to
be of service."
"The service was of a most important nature," the lawyer said, "being
nothing less than the saving of his life, and probably that of his
wife. He sent for me the next morning, and then drew out his will. By
that will he left to you the estates which he had purchased from your
father."
Cyril gave a start of surprise, and would have spoken, but Master
Goldsworthy held up his hand, and said,--
"Please let me continue my story to the end. This act was not the
consequence of the service that you had rendered him. He had
previously consulted me on the subject, and stated his intentions to
me. He had met you at Mr. Wallace's, and at once recognised your
name, and learnt from Mr. Wallace that you were the son of Sir Aubrey
Shenstone. He studied your character, had an interview with Dr.
Hodges, and learnt how fearlessly you were devoting yourself to the
work of aiding those stricken with the Plague. With his own son he
had reason for being profoundly dissatisfied. The young man had
thrown off his authority, had become a notorious reprobate, and had,
he believed, sunk down to become a companion of thieves and
highwaymen. He had come up to London solely to make a last effort to
save him from his evil courses and to give him a chance of
reformation by sending him out to New England.
"Mr. Harvey is possessed of considerable property in addition to the
estates purchased of your father, for, previous to that purchase he
had been the owner of large tanneries at Norwich, which he has ever
since maintained, not so much for the sake of the income he derived
from them as because they afforded a livelihood to a large number of
workmen. He had, therefore, ample means to leave to his son, should
the latter accept his offer and reform his life, without the estates
of Upmead. When he saw you, he told me his conscience was moved. He
had, of course, a legal right to the estates, but he had purchased
them for a sum not exceeding a fifth of their value, and he
considered that in the twenty years he had held them he had drawn
from them sums amply sufficient to repay him for the price he had
given for them, and had received a large interest on the money in
addition. He questioned, therefore, strongly whether he had any right
longer to retain them.
"When he consulted me on the subject, he alluded to the fact that, by
the laws of the Bible, persons who bought lands were bound to return
the land to its former possessors, at the end of seven times seven
years. He had already, then, made up his mind to leave that portion
of his property to you, when you rendered him that great service, and
at the same time it became, alas! but too evident to him that his son
was hopelessly bad, and that any money whatever left to him would
assuredly be spent in evil courses, and would do evil rather than
good. Therefore, when I came in the morning to him he said,--
"'My will must be made immediately. Not one penny is to go to my son.
I may be carried off to-morrow by the Plague, or my son may renew his
attempt with success. So I must will it away from him at once. For
the moment, therefore, make a short will bequeathing the estate of
Upmead to Sir Cyril Shenstone, all my other possessions to my wife
for her lifetime, and at her death also to Sir Cyril Shenstone.
"'I may alter this later on,' he said, 'but for the present I desire
chiefly to place them beyond my son's reach. Please draw up the
document at once, for no one can say what half an hour may bring
forth to either of us. Get the document in form by this evening, when
some friends will be here to witness it. Pray bring your two clerks
also!'
"A few days later he called upon me again.
"'I have been making further inquiries about Sir Cyril Shenstone,' he
said, 'and have learnt much concerning him from a man who is in the
employment of the trader with whom he lives. What I have learnt more
than confirms me in my impression of him. He came over from France,
three years ago, a boy of scarce fourteen. He was clever at figures,
and supported his reprobate father for the last two years of his life
by keeping the books of small traders in the City. So much was he
esteemed that, at his father's death, Captain Dowsett offered him a
home in his house. He rewarded the kindness by making the discovery
that the trader was being foully robbed, and brought about the arrest
of the thieves, which incidentally led to the breaking-up of one of
the worst gangs of robbers in London. Later on he found that his
employer's daughter was in communication with a hanger-on of the
Court, who told her that he was a nobleman. The young fellow set a
watch upon her, came upon her at the moment she was about to elope
with this villain, ran him through the shoulder, and took her back to
her home, and so far respected her secret that her parents would
never have known of it had she not, some time afterwards, confessed
it to them. That villain, Mr. Goldsworthy,' he said, 'was my son!
Just after that Sir Cyril obtained the good will of the Earl of
Wisbech, whose three daughters he saved from being burnt to death at
a fire in the Savoy. Thus, you see, this youth is in every way worthy
of good fortune, and can be trusted to administer the estate of his
fathers worthily and well. I wish you to draw out, at once, a deed
conveying to him these estates, and rehearsing that, having obtained
them at a small price, and having enjoyed them for a time long enough
to return to me the money I paid for them with ample interest
thereon, I now return them to him, confident that they will be in
good hands, and that their revenues will be worthily spent.'
"In this parcel is the deed in question, duly signed and witnessed,
together with the parchments, deeds, and titles of which he became
possessed at his purchase of the estate. I may say, Sir Cyril, that I
have never carried out a legal transfer with greater pleasure to
myself, considering, as I do, that the transaction is alike just and
honourable on his part and most creditable to yourself. He begged me
to hand the deeds to you myself. They were completed two months
since, but he himself suggested that I should bring them to you on
Christmas Eve, when it is the custom for many to give to their
friends tokens of their regard and good will. I congratulate you
heartily, sir, and rejoice that, for once, merit has met with a due
reward."
"I do not know, sir," Cyril replied, "how I can express my feelings
of deep pleasure and gratitude at the wonderful tidings you have
brought me. I had set it before me as the great object of my life,
that, some day, should I live to be an old man, I might be enabled to
repurchase the estate of my father's. I knew how improbable it was
that I should ever be able to do so, and I can scarce credit that
what seemed presumptuous even as a hope should have thus been so
strangely and unexpectedly realised. I certainly do not feel that it
is in any way due to what you are good enough to call my merits, for
in all these matters that you have spoken of there has been nothing
out of the way, or, so far as I can see, in any way praiseworthy, in
what I have done. It would seem, indeed, that in all these matters,
and in the saving of my life from the Plague, things have arranged
themselves so as to fall out for my benefit."
"That is what Mr. Harvey feels very strongly, Sir Cyril. He has told
me, over and over again, that it seemed to him that the finger of God
was specially manifest in thus bringing you together, and in placing
you in a position to save his life. And now I will take my leave. I
may say that in all legal matters connected with the estate I have
acted for Mr. Harvey, and should be naturally glad if you will
continue to entrust such matters to me. I have some special
facilities in the matter, as Mr. Popham, a lawyer of Norwich, is
married to my daughter, and we therefore act together in all business
connected with the estate, he performing what may be called the local
business, while I am advised by him as to matters requiring attention
here in London."
"I shall be glad indeed if you and Mr. Popham will continue to act in
the same capacity for me," Cyril said warmly. "I am, as you see, very
young, and know nothing of the management of an estate, and shall be
grateful if you will, in all matters, act for me until I am of an age
to assume the duties of the owner of Upmead."
"I thank you, Sir Cyril, and we shall, I trust, afford you
satisfaction. The deed, you will observe, is dated the 29th of
September, the day on which it was signed, though there have been
other matters to settle. The tenants have already been notified that
from that date they are to regard you as their landlord. Now that you
authorise us to act for you, my son-in-law will at once proceed to
collect the rents for this quarter. I may say that, roughly, they
amount to seventeen hundred pounds a year, and as it may be a
convenience to you to draw at once, if it so please you I will place,
on Monday next, the sum of four hundred pounds to your credit with
Messrs. Murchison and Graham, who are my bankers, or with any other
firm you may prefer."
"With the bankers you name, by all means," Cyril said; "and I thank
you heartily for so doing, for as I shall shortly rejoin the Fleet, a
portion, at least, of the money will be very useful to me."
Mr. Goldsworthy took his hat.
"There is one thing further I have forgotten. Mr. Harvey requested me
to say that he wished for no thanks in this matter. He regards it as
an act of rightful restitution, and, although you will doubtless
write to him, he would be pleased if you will abstain altogether from
treating it as a gift."
"I will try to obey his wishes," Cyril said, "but it does not seem to
me that it will be possible for me to abstain from any expression of
gratitude for his noble act."
Cyril accompanied the lawyer to the door, and then returned upstairs.
"Now I can speak," Captain Dowsett said. "I have had hard work to
keep a stopper on my tongue all this time, for I have been well-nigh
bursting to congratulate you. I wish you joy, my lad," and he wrung
Cyril's hand heartily, "and a pleasant voyage through life. I am as
glad, ay, and a deal more glad than if such a fortune had come in my
way, for it would have been of little use to me, seeing I have all
that the heart of man could desire."
He ran to the door and shouted loudly for his wife and daughter.
"I have news for you both," he said, as they came in. "What do you
think? Cyril, like the King, has come to his own again, and he is now
Sir Cyril Shenstone, the owner of the estate of Upmead."
Both broke into exclamations of surprise and pleasure.
"How has the wonder come about?" Nellie asked, after the first
congratulations were over. "What good fairy has brought this round?"
"The good fairy was the Mr. Harvey whose name Cyril once mentioned
casually, and whose life, as it now appears, he saved, though he has
said nothing to us about it. That gentleman was, most strangely, the
man who bought the estate from his father. He, it seems, is a wealthy
man, and his conscience has for some time been pricked with the
thought that he had benefited too largely from the necessities of Sir
Aubrey, and that, having received back from the rents all the money
he paid, and goodly interest thereon, he ought to restore the estate
to its former owner. Possibly he might never have acted on this
thought, but he considered the circumstance that he had so strangely
met Cyril here at the time of the Plague, and still more strangely
that Cyril had saved his life, was a matter of more than chance, and
was a direct and manifest interposition of Providence; and he has
therefore made restitution, and that parcel on the table contains a
deed of gift to Cyril of all his father's estates."
"He has done quite rightly," Mrs. Dowsett said warmly, "though,
indeed, it is not everyone who would see matters in that light. If
men always acted in that spirit it would be a better world."
"Ay, ay, wife. There are not many men who, having got the best of a
bargain, voluntarily resign the profits they have made. It is
pleasant to come across one who so acts, more especially when one's
best friend is the gainer. Ah! Nellie, what a pity some good fairy
did not tell you of what was coming! What a chance you have lost,
girl! See what might have happened if you had set your cap at Cyril!"
"Indeed, it is terrible to think of," Nellie laughed. "It was hard on
me that he was not five or six years older. Then I might have done
it, even if my good fairy had not whispered in my ear about this
fortune. Never mind. I shall console myself by looking forward to
dance at his wedding--that is, if he will send me an invitation."
"Like as not you will be getting past your dancing days by the time
that comes off, Nellie. I hope that, years before then, I shall have
danced at your wedding--that is to say," he said, imitating her, "if
you will send me an invitation."
"What are you going to do next, Cyril?" Captain Dave asked, when the
laugh had subsided.
"I don't know, I am sure," Cyril replied. "I have not really woke up
to it all yet. It will be some time before I realise that I am not a
penniless young baronet, and that I can spend a pound without looking
at it a dozen times. I shall have to get accustomed to the thought
before I can make any plans. I suppose that one of the first things
to do will be to go down to Oxford to see Prince Rupert--who, I
suppose, is with the Court, though this I can doubtless learn at the
offices of the Admiralty--and to tell him that I am ready to rejoin
his ship as soon as he puts to sea again. Then I shall find out where
Sydney Oliphant is, and how his family have fared in the Plague. I
would fain find out what has become of the Partons, to whom, and
especially to Lady Parton, I owe much. I suppose, too, I shall have
to go down to Norfolk, but that I shall put off as long as I can, for
it will be strange and very unpleasant at first to go down as master
to a place I have never seen. I shall have to get you to come down
with me, Captain Dave, to keep me in countenance."
"Not I, my lad. You will want a better introducer. I expect that the
lawyer who was here will give you a letter to his son-in-law, who
will, of course, place himself at your service, establishing you in
your house and taking you round to your tenants."
"Oh, yes," Nellie said, clapping her hands. "And there will be fine
doings, and bonfires, and arches, and all sorts of festivities. I do
begin to feel how much I have missed the want of that good fairy."
"It will be all very disagreeable," Cyril said seriously; whereat the
others laughed.
Cyril then went downstairs with Captain Dave, and told John Wilkes of
the good fortune that had befallen him, at which he was as much
delighted as the others had been.
Ten days later Cyril rode to Oxford, and found that Prince Rupert was
at present there. The Prince received him with much warmth.
"I have wondered many times what had become of you, Sir Cyril," he
said. "From the hour when I saw you leave us in the _Fan Fan_ I have
lost sight of you altogether. I have not been in London since, for
the Plague had set in badly before the ships were laid up, and as I
had naught particular to do there I kept away from it. Albemarle has
stayed through it, and he and Mr. Pepys were able to do all there was
to do, but I have thought of you often and wondered how you fared,
and hoped to see you here, seeing that there was, as it seemed to me,
nothing to keep you in London after your wounds had healed. I have
spoken often to the King of the brave deed by which you saved us all,
and he declared that, had it not been that you were already a
baronet, he would knight you as soon as you appeared, as many of the
captains and others have already received that honour; and he agreed
with me that none deserved it better than yourself. Now, what has
become of you all this time?"
Cyril related how he had stayed in London, had had the Plague, and
had recovered from it.
"I must see about getting you a commission at once in the Navy," the
Prince said, "though I fear you will have to wait until we fit out
again. There will be no difficulty then, for of course there were
many officers killed in the action."
Cyril expressed his thanks, adding,--
"There is no further occasion for me to take a commission, Prince,
for, strangely enough, the owner of my father's property has just
made it over to me. He is a good man, and, considering that he has
already reaped large benefits by his purchase, and has been repaid
his money with good interest, his conscience will no longer suffer
him to retain it."
"Then he is a Prince of Roundheads," the Prince said, "and I most
heartily congratulate you; and I believe that the King will be as
pleased as I am. He said but the other day, when I was speaking to
him of you, that it grieved him sorely that he was powerless to do
anything for so many that had suffered in his cause, and that, after
the bravery you had shown, he was determined to do something, and
would insist with his ministers that some office should be found for
you,--though it is not an easy matter, when each of them has special
friends of his own among whom to divide any good things that fall
vacant. He holds a Court this evening, and I will take you with me."
The King was most gracious when the Prince again presented Cyril to
him and told him of the good fortune that had befallen him.
"By my faith, Sir Cyril, you were born under a lucky star. First of
all you saved my Lord of Wisbech's daughters; then, as Prince Rupert
tells me, you saved him and all on board his ship from being burned;
and now a miracle has well-nigh happened in your favour. I see, too,
that you have the use of your arm, which the Prince doubted would
ever altogether recover."
"More still, Your Majesty," the Prince said. "He had the Plague in
August and recovered from it."
"I shall have to keep you about me, Sir Cyril," the King said, "as a
sort of amulet to guard me against ill luck."
"I am going to take him to sea first," Prince Rupert broke in, seeing
that Cyril was about to disclaim the idea of coming to Court. "I may
want him to save my ship again, and I suppose he will be going down
to visit his estate till I want him. You have never seen it, have
you, Sir Cyril?"
"No, sir; at least not to have any remembrance of it. I naturally
long to see Upmead, of which I have heard much from my father. I
should have gone down at once, but I thought it my duty to come
hither and report myself to you as being ready to sail again as soon
as you put to sea."
"Duty first and pleasure afterwards," the King said. "I am afraid
that is a little beyond me--eh, Rupert?"
"Very much so, I should say, Cousin Charles," the Prince replied,
with a smile. "However, I have no doubt Sir Cyril will not grudge us
a few days before he leaves. There are several of the gentlemen who
were his comrades on the _Henrietta_ here, and they will be glad to
renew their acquaintance with him, knowing, as they all do, that they
owe their lives to him."
As Cyril was walking down the High Street, he saw a student coming
along whose face seemed familiar to him. He looked hard at him.
"Surely you must be Harry Parton?" he said.
"That is my name, sir; though I cannot recall where I have met you.
Yet there seems something familiar in your face, and still more in
your voice."
"I am Cyril Shenstone."
"Why, what has become of you, Cyril?" Harry said, shaking him warmly
by the hand. "I searched for you a year ago when I was in London, but
could obtain no tidings whatever of you, save that you had lost your
father. We are alike there, for my father died a few months after
yours did."
"I am sorry indeed, Harry. I had not heard of it before. I was not,
indeed, in the way of doing so, as I was working in the City and knew
nothing of what was passing elsewhere."
"This is my college, Cyril. Come up to my room; there we can talk
comfortably, and we have much to tell each other. How is it that you
have never been near us?" he went on, when they were seated in front
of a blazing fire in his room. "I know that there was some quarrel
between our fathers, but when we heard of Sir Aubrey's death, both my
father and mother thought that you would come to see us or would have
written--for indeed it was not until after my father's death that we
paid a visit to London. It was then my mother asked me to search for
you; and after great difficulty I found the quarter in which you had
lived, and then from the parish register learned where your father
had died. Going there, I learned that you had left the lodging
directly after his death, but more than that the people could not
tell me."
"I should have come to see your mother and Sir John, Harry. I know
how deeply I am indebted to them, and as long as I live shall never
cease to be grateful for Lady Parton's kindness to me. But I had
received so much kindness that I shrank from seeming to wish to
presume upon it further. I had, of course, to work for my living, and
I wanted, before I recalled myself to them, to be able to say that I
had not come as a beggar for further favours, but that I was making
my way independently. Sooner or later I should have come, for your
father once promised me that if I followed out what you remember was
my plan, of entering foreign service, he would give me letters of
introduction that would be useful to me. Had I that favour still to
ask I could do it without shame. But more than that I would not have
asked, even had I wanted bread, which, thank God! was never the
case."
"I can understand your feeling, Cyril, but my mother assuredly would
always have been pleased to see you. You know you were a favourite of
hers."
"Had you been near town, Harry, I should certainly have come to see
her and you as soon as I had fairly established myself, but I heard
from my father that you had all gone away into the country soon after
the unfortunate quarrel he had with Sir John, and therefore delayed
taking any step for the time, and indeed did not know in what part of
the country your father's estates lay. I know that he recovered them
as soon as he returned."
"They had never been forfeited," Harry said. "My father retired from
the struggle after Naseby, and as he had influential friends among
the Puritans, there was no forfeiture of his estates, and we were
therefore able, as you know, to live in comfort at Dunkirk, his
steward sending over such monies as were required. And now about
yourself. Your brains must have served you rarely somehow, for you
are dressed in the latest fashion, and indeed I took you for a Court
gallant when you accosted me."
"I have been truly fortunate, Harry, and indeed everything has turned
out as if specially designed for my good, and, in a most strange and
unlooked-for manner, I have just come into my father's estates
again."
"I am glad indeed to hear it, Cyril. Tell me how it has all come
about."
Cyril told the story of his life since he had come to London.
"You have, indeed, had strange adventures, Cyril, and, though you say
little about it, you must have done something special to have gained
Prince Rupert's patronage and introduction to Court; but I shall worm
all that out of you some day, or get it from other lips. What a
contrast your life has been to mine! Here have you been earning your
living bravely, fighting in the great battle against the Dutch, going
through that terrible Plague, and winning your way back to fortune,
while I have been living the life of a school-boy. Our estates lie in
Shropshire, and as soon as we went down there my father placed me at
a school at Shrewsbury. There I remained till his death, and then, as
was his special wish, entered here. I have still a year of my course
to complete. I only came up into residence last week. When the summer
comes I hope that you will come down to Ardleigh and stay with us; it
will give my mother great pleasure to see you again, for I never see
her but she speaks of you, and wonders what has become of you, and if
you are still alive."
"Assuredly I will come, and that with the greatest pleasure," Cyril
said, "providing only that I am not then at sea, which is, I fear,
likely, as I rejoin the ship as soon as Prince Rupert takes the sea
against the Dutch. However, directly we return I will write to you."
"If you do so, let it be to Ardleigh, near Shrewsbury, Shropshire.
Should I be here when your letter arrives, my mother will forward it
to me."