BRAMBLE PARK.
CHANGING the field of our story from the blue waves to that of land, we
must ask the reader to go back with us for a period of years from that
wherein our story has opened, to the fertile country and
highly-cultivated lands in the neighborhood of Manchester, England. Sir
Robert Bramble's estate was some eight miles from the large
manufacturing town just named, and embraced within its grounds some of
the most delightfully situated spots within a day's ride in any
direction. Parks, gardens, ponds, groves, stables and fine animals; in
short, every accompaniment to a fine English estate. Sir Robert was a
man of not much force of character, had inherited his estates, and had
partly exhausted his income so far as to render a degree of economy
imperatively necessary, a fact which was not calculated to render any
more amiable a naturally irritable disposition.
The family at Bramble Park, as the estate was called, consisted of Sir
Robert and his lady, a weak-minded, but once beautiful woman, and two
sons, Robert and Charles, the eldest at this period some twelve years of
age, the youngest about nine; the usual number of servants, in doors and
out; made up the household. Sir Robert's could hardly be said to be a
very happy household, notwithstanding there seemed to be every element
and requisite to be found there for peaceful domestic happiness; and
perhaps it would have puzzled a casual observer to have ascertained
wherein laid the root of that evil, which, like a poisonous upas, seemed
to spread its branches through the household.
There was a cloud apparently shadowing each face there; there was
constantly some trouble of a domestic character. Sir Robert and Lady
Bramble seemed to be not on the best of terms with each other, and the
servants wore a hang-dog look, as though they expected at any moment to
be called to account for some piece of rascality. There was, however,
one pleasant face in that household, though even that seemed tempered by
sadness; this was the youngest brother, Charles. He was, or rather would
have been, a cheerful, happy boy, but for the malign influence of his
brother Robert, who seemed his opposite in almost everything. Robert was
jealous, irritable and revengeful; Charles was open-hearted, mild and
forgiving. Robert was cruel to both servants and animals; Charles was
kind to all, and a favorite with all; even the dumb animals avoided one
and adhered to the other, instinctively knowing a friend.
Robert was the first born and the favorite with his mother, whom he
ruled literally in all things, while Sir Robert, looking upon him as the
legal heir and representative of his name, of course considered him in a
somewhat different light from that in which he regarded Charles. At
times it seemed as though an evil spirit had taken possession of
Robert's heart, and he delighted in oppressing, domineering over and
abusing his brother, who, though he did not lack for spirit, yet could
never bring it to bear against Robert. He meekly bore his reproaches and
abuse, and even at times had suffered personal chastisement at his hands
without complaint to his parents, rather than irritate both them and
himself by referring to so disagreeable a matter. With a naturally
patient disposition, he suffered much without complaint.
Sir Robert and Lady Bramble seemed blind to the fact that the unbounded
indulgence which they yielded to their eldest child was rendering still
worse a disposition and habit which were already an affliction in
themselves. But Robert was persevering, and would always carry his
point, let it be what it might, teasing and cajoling the mother until
she granted his wishes however absurd they might be. He domineered over
every one, mother, father, servant maids and servant men; he was the
terror of all.
Charles added to his light-heartedness and cheerfulness of spirit, great
agility, and for a boy of his age, remarkable strength, in which matters
Robert was deficient, and here his jealousy found ample scope. Charles,
too, was remarkably apt with his studies, whereas Robert generally ended
his lessons by quarrelling with his tutor, and setting both father and
mother against him, by which reason the worthy who filled that post at
Bramble Park was usually changed at least once in six or eight weeks,
and thus were matters at the period to which we refer. It seemed as
though Robert was never happy unless he was doing some one harm, or
distressing some of the many pet animals about the spacious grounds; in
this latter occupation he passed much of his leisure time, and was a
great adept at the business.
A fine St. Charles spaniel, belonging to Lady Bramble, had one day,
after being teased beyond forbearance by Robert, at last in
self-defence, snapped at and lightly bit him, in revenge for which the
violent tempered boy vowed to kill him, and the very next opportunity he
had, he seized upon the little pet, and tying a string and stone about
its neck, bore the dog to the large pond in the centre of the part,
where he threw him into the deepest part. Charles at that moment came in
sight, and at once saw the act. Without pausing to take off his clothes
or any part of them, he sprang at once into the pond and dove down for
the dog; but he found the stone about its neck too heavy for him to
bring to the surface, though he struggled long and stoutly to do so
before he yielded.
Swimming to the shore, Charles took his knife from his pocket, and once
more dashed in; and this time diving down he cut the cord, and releasing
the dog from the bottom swam with him to the opposite shore from where
Robert stood, all the while threatening him. Here his younger brother
smoothed the water from the dog's coat, and instinctively rubbing its
benumbed limbs until it became quite resuscitated, and after a short
time, following close to Charles for protection, it returned to his
mother's side in her boudoir. But Robert had been there before him, and
had already manufactured a story redounding to Charles's discredit, and
provoking both his mother's and father's anger, the latter of whom at
Robert's instance, even struck the gallant-hearted boy a severe blow
with the flat of his hand as a punishment for what he denominated an
interference with his brother's sport.
Charles said nothing; he knew the prejudice which Robert's constant
misrepresentations had created against him in his parents' breasts; he
realized too, young as he was, that it was useless for him to attempt to
explain, though he felt the injustice of this treatment; and so with a
quivering lip he turned away from the scene and went in his wet clothes
to the servants' hall where he might dry them. He said nothing, but
looked much sadder than usual as he stood there before the fire. A
coarse but honest servant, Leonard Hust, who had been born on the
estate, and whose father before him had been a servant in Sir Robert's
household, came stealthily to Charles's side and busied himself in
helping him to arrange his clothes and dry them, while he smoothed the
boy's hair and wiped his face.
"Never mind, master Charles," said the honest fellow, noticing the
trembling lips of the handsome boy; "never mind, it's a gallant act in
you, and though I say it, who shouldn't, perhaps, master Robert never
would have dared to do it; he hasn't got half your courage and strength,
though he's bigger and older."
A tear was all the answer that the boy vouchsafed to his honest effort
at consolation. He too proud to make a confidant of the servant, or to
confide to him of his father's conduct, or even that of Robert. Leonard
Hust watched the boy carefully, and entered keenly into his feelings,
until at last he said:
"I wasn't the only one who saw you save her ladyship's pet, master
Charles."
"It wasn't father or mother that saw it?" asked Charles, quickly, as he
recalled the injustice he had just experienced at their hands, under
Robert's prompting.
"No, master Charles."
"Was it cousin Helen?" continued the boy.
"Yes, master Charles," answered Leonard Hust, with a knowing smile.
"O," said the boy, as a glow of pleasure lit up his features for a
moment.
It was evident that the knowledge of the said cousin Helen's having seen
his exertions to save the little favorite spaniel, gave Charles not a
little satisfaction. Now cousin Helen--as a little blue-eyed child of
eight years, the daughter of the family whose estate joined that of
Bramble Park, was called--was no cousin at all, but the children had
thus nicknamed each other, and they were most happy playmates together.
Robert, who was three years his brother's senior, was more fond of
little Helen than of anybody else; indeed, in spite of his ill temper,
he was wont to try and please her at any cost. But the child, who was as
beautiful as a little fairy, did not respond at all to his advances of
friendship, while to Charles she was all tenderness and confiding in
everything, kissing him with childish fervor and truth whenever they
parted, a familiarity she never permitted to his brother.
The truth was, Robert to his great discomfiture, was aware that
Charles's manly and courageous act of saving the dog had been witnessed
by Helen, though his brother knew it not until told by Leonard Hust.
This had aggravated Robert so much that he had hastened home, and
fabricating a story of Charles having thrown the dog into the pond, and
wet himself completely, preparing his parents for a rough reception of
his brother when he should return, and hence the treatment he received.
Leonard made his young master change his clothes, and after making him
comfortable, left him to amuse himself in the open park with his ball,
where the light-hearted Charles was soon thoughtlessly happy, and
forgetful of the unkindness of Robert and the injustice of his parents.
So light are the cares and mishaps of youth, so easily forgotten are its
hardships, either seeming or real. Happy childhood!
Whether little cousin Helen had been on the watch for Charley, or
whether she was there by accident, it matters not, suffice it to say
that the two soon met in their headlong career of fun and frolic, and
two more joyous or merry spirits never met on the soft green sward than
these. Now they tire of the play at ball and sit down together close by
the brink of the clear, deep pond, next the rich flower beds that shed
their grateful fragrance around the spot. Cousin Helen, still panting
from the exertion of the play, looked thoughtfully into the almost
transparent water, and involuntarily heaved a sigh that did not escape
her companion's notice.
"Art sick, cousin Helen?" asked Charles, quickly.
"Nay, not I," said the pleasant-voiced child, "not I, Charley."
"But you sighed as though you were very tired or in pain," he continued.
"Did I?" said the child, thoughtfully; "well, I believe I did."
"And what for, cousin Helen?" said Charles, tenderly, parting her
natural ringlets back from her beautiful and radiant face--doubly
radiant now as she looked up into his, so confidingly and so
affectionately.
"I was thinking," she said, ingenuously, "how cruel Robert was to your
mother's pet. I don't see how he could do such a thing, do you,
Charley?"
"Robert is quick-tempered," said his brother, "and perhaps regrets it
now. I guess the dog bit him, or something of that sort."
He was too generous, too manly, to complain of Robert's cruel treatment
of him, or to mention the unkindness he had experienced from his
parents. But he had not forgotten these occurrences, and his lip once
more quivered with emotion, and his clear, handsome eyes were suffused
with tears. Quick as thought his little companion divined with womanly
instinct the cause, for she was not ignorant of the state of affairs,
young as she was, that existed at Bramble Park. Drawing nearer to his
side, she threw one arm tenderly and with childish abandon over his
neck, and with the other brushed away the gathering tears, until Charles
smiled again and leaned over and kissed her sweet little lips as a
brother might have done! And then together they plucked a beautiful
bouquet, and busied themselves in arranging it and classifying the
various plants by their botanical names, for both children were well
versed in this delightful study, young as they were.
While they were thus engaged, Robert came up and angrily discovered the
two children thus happy together. Saying some rude things to Charles, he
pushed him away from his playmate's side with rude and brutal force,
throwing Charles to the ground. This was too much, even for his
forbearing spirit, and the injured and outraged boy, smarting under the
previous injury he had endured, rose quickly to his feet, and with one
blow knocked Robert heavily upon the ground. The blow had been a severe
one, and the boy was faint and unable to stand for a moment. Charles
looked at him for an instant, then helped to raise him up, and waited
until he was again sufficiently conscious to walk. Then he saw him walk
angrily toward the house, where he knew very well what would follow on
his return there. All the while his little companion had stood regarding
first one and then the other. Now Charles stepped to her side, and said:
"I am sorry, Helen; but it is very, very hard to bear."
She shook her little head as he spoke, but held up her lips for the kiss
he offered, and saw him turn away from home towards the distant town.