Colonel Sutherland did not find much leisure that night. He had scarcely
returned from his walk, a little indignant and vexed at the conduct of
Kennedy, but less than ever inclined to believe him, when young Musgrave
made his appearance. The Colonel was seated by the fire with his
spectacles on, and the latest newspaper to be had in these regions laid
on the table beside him--but he had not begun to read, having thoughts
enough to keep him occupied. The room, with its dark walls and low roof
and the indistinct prints hung round it, was left in comparative
darkness by the little light of the two candles on the table. The
Colonel himself had his back to the light, and, with his elbows resting
on the arms of the chair, rubbed his hands slowly together, and pondered
in his heart. He had almost forgotten the young stranger in the closer
and nearer interests which moved himself; and what with his thoughts and
his deafness, and his position with his back to the door, did not
perceive the entrance of Roger, who stood undecided and shy when the
door had closed upon him, half inclined in sudden discouragement to turn
back again, and feeling for almost the first time, with a sudden painful
start of consciousness, that he had no claim upon the friendship of this
old man, whose kind interest in him this morning had cheered his forlorn
young heart, but whom, after all, he had seen for the first time this
day. A mind which is elevated by any one of the great primitive
emotions, ceases for the moment to feel those secondary impressions of
surprise and singularity with which in ordinary times we regard any
departure from the ordinary laws of life. Had he been happy, Roger would
have wondered, perhaps would have smiled, at the interest which this
stranger expressed in him; but it had not even astonished his
pre-occupied mind until now: now, as he stood behind the Colonel in the
dim apartment, and saw him sitting thoughtful by the fire, unconscious
of the presence of any visitor, the young man's impulse was to steal
softly out again, and make no claim upon a sympathy which he had no
right to. Yet his heart yearned for the kind look, the paternal voice
which had roused him this morning out of the quick despair of youth. He
approached slowly towards the table: when he reached it the Colonel
turned round with an exclamation of surprised but cordial welcome, and
pointed him to the chair opposite his own, which had been placed in
readiness for his young guest. This little token that he was expected
cheered the young man involuntarily; it was another of those trivial
things which, as Colonel Sutherland said, make up so much of the
happiness of life.
When he saw Roger opposite to him, with his eager, ingenuous face, and a
world of undisguised youthful anxieties and disquietude shining in his
candid eyes, the old man fell into a momentary pause of silence and
embarrassment. It seemed impossible to impute any want of truthfulness
to those honest looks, or even to cast upon them the momentary stain of
a suspicion. And the same young eyes were quick to perceive even this
pause, and remarked immediately that the Colonel was embarrassed, and
did not know how to begin what he had to say. Grief in its immediate
presence does not bring patience--the pride of the young man took alarm
instantly--he half rose, with hasty words barring any apology, and a
declaration of proud humility, that he had no right to trouble Colonel
Sutherland, or to intrude upon his privacy, rising to his lips. Before
he had spoken, the Colonel perceived what he meant, and stopped him.
"Wait a little--hear what I am going to say--sit down," said the old
soldier, laying his hand upon Musgrave's arm; "I cannot have you quarrel
with me so soon--sit down, and let us talk it out."
"Nay, sir, there can be no occasion," cried Musgrave, in his
disappointment and offence, his voice faltering a little; "I have but to
thank you for your kindness this morning, and beg your pardon for
intruding on you now."
"That cannot be," said Colonel Sutherland, with a momentary smile,
"because you come by my own appointment; and, besides, I am very glad to
see you, and you are a very foolish youth to be so impatient. Sit down
quietly--have patience a little, and listen to me."
Roger obeyed, with some haste and reluctance. He was almost overcome by
wounded pride and feeling, and yet he had nothing whatever to ground his
mortification upon, but the Colonel's pause of embarrassment and
confused preliminary tone.
"You thought I hesitated, and did not speak frankly enough," said the
Colonel. "Perhaps it is true, for I had something on my mind. But now I
mean to speak very frankly. My young friend, I believe I can be of but
little service to you, but I can give you my best advice and such
encouragement as an old man owes to a young one; while, on the other
hand, you must be frank with me. After you left me this morning, I was
told you had still parents alive. Is that true?"
"Did you think I had deceived you?" cried Musgrave, quickly.
Mortification and shame and sudden resentment flushed his face. "But you
don't know me, to be sure!" he exclaimed, with a passionate tone of
pain; "and yet, though I don't know you, I care for your opinion. I
have not come to ask anything from you, Colonel Sutherland--I have
already made up my mind what to do; but, at best, you must know that I
have not deceived you. I have a mother, and yet I have not a
mother--that is the only entire bond of nature remaining to me. She made
a second marriage, and gave me up to my godfather so long ago, that I
scarcely remember the time--her husband made my only visit to her so
disagreeable, that I have never repeated it, and I believe never shall.
She has a family of whom I know nothing, and has forgotten and forsaken
me. I appeal to you, then, whether I was not right in saying that I had
no friends?"
"I felt sure it would turn out something of the kind," said the Colonel,
heartily. "What, my boy, are you affronted with me? Come, that is
foolish--sit down and forgive me. Perhaps you think a stranger like
myself has no right to ask such explanations; but I am old, and you are
young--that is, after all, the most primitive principle of authority. I
assure you, though you may not be quite pleased with me at this moment,
I am a much safer counsellor than the sergeant--the old rogue! Draw your
chair to the table, take a glass of wine, and let me hear what you are
going to be about. I heard of an old exploit of yours from my niece,
Susan Scarsdale, to-day."
"From whom?" asked Musgrave, with a little surprise.
"From my niece--you don't know her, I daresay," said the Colonel, whose
object was to put his visitor at ease; "but some one told her your name,
she says. An adventure of yours with a gipsy--do you recollect it--on
some of the roads near Lanwoth Moor?"
"Oh!--the young lady from----" Musgrave paused only in time to prevent
himself saying "the haunted house," which was a name very commonly
appropriated to Marchmain. The young man blushed a little, partly from
the mistake, partly from a very distinct recollection of the flattering
applause with which Susan clapped her hands at his achievement. He
might not have noticed her at all but for that sign of approbation; but
it is pleasant to be approved, especially in a rash and unorthodox
proceeding; and it is true that Roger had taken several occasions to
pass Marchmain after that occurrence, with a lingering inclination to
improve his acquaintance with that face; he never had any success in his
endeavour, but still, under the eyes of Susan's uncle he blushed in
spite of himself. "I recollect it very well," he said.
The Colonel saw his colour rise, and had not the slightest inclination
to pursue the subject.
"Yes, it was very natural, whether it was wise or not," said the
Colonel, with a smile, words which might refer equally well either to
the encounter with the mugger, or the curiosity about Susan, and which
his young companion unconsciously applied to the last. "I remember what
I should have done myself at your age; but you say you have made up your
mind. Will you let me ask how? for I think you might take more leisure
to do that at your age."
"The steed would starve in the meantime," said Musgrave, with a little
unnecessary vehemence. "Yes, I have made up my mind--but only as I had
done before seeing you, sir, this morning. You spoke very wisely, very
kindly. A man who had money, or friends, or skill, or anything in the
world to fall back upon ought to have listened to you. I feel grieved
that you should think, after so much kindness on your part, that I have
not considered your advice. I did consider it, Colonel, believe me, but
I have no alternative--I know nothing that I can be but a soldier. Don't
say anything to me, it will only increase my disgust at myself to be fit
for nothing else; and then, sir," said the young man, attempting to
smile, "there is no necessity for thinking of the barracks and the
sixpence a-day. I will take this other side of the question: young
fellows like me, they say in novels, never did better long ago. I'll be
a defender of my country, a servant of the Queen; a general is no
more."
"My poor boy!" said the Colonel, whom this "other side of the question"
had a pathetic effect upon, "you don't know the life of a common
soldier; and do you mean to tell me that in our days, with all our
progress and civilization, a young man with your advantages is fit for
nothing but this?"
"I might be a gamekeeper," said the youth, with a slight tremble of his
lip, "or I might be an emigrant--the last I should certainly choose if I
had anything to set out upon; but I don't care to run the risk of
blacking shoes or portering at the other side of the world, as the
newspapers say the penniless emigrants are reduced to often enough. No,
Colonel, I should not sit here, opposite you, a poor fellow, who will
never have the right to meet you on equal terms again; but I must 'list,
I have no alternative--I can only be what Providence and my education
have qualified me for. If I am nothing else, I can be honest, at least.
This is the only thing I am good for, and can reach to, therefore I have
given up grumbling about it. And _if_," said Roger, with the fire
blazing out of his eyes for a moment, one glance of youthful hope
through the darkness, "if chance or war should ever put it in a man's
power to rise, then look for me again!"
"My brave fellow!--my excellent lad!" cried the Colonel, "that is the
spirit for a soldier! A regiment of ye would subjugate the world! Give
me your hand, and keep your seat, boy! If you had 'listed already, does
that make you less a gentleman? But is there no help for it, think you?
Must you carry this soul to the ranks? By my word, I grudge it
sorely!--and that is much for an old soldier to say. Have you no
friends--I don't mean relatives--people that have known you in better
days, that would help in this pinch? In my young days the very
neighbours would have been moved to interfere, whether you would or
not. Yes, I believe you're proud; the noble spirit comes very seldom
without its attending demon. But look here, man--a heart that would be
quick to offer help should not be above receiving it. I am but a poor
man myself, or I warrant well you should not escape me, however loth
your grandeur might be. Here's the question; I speak to you boldly, as
your friend, offence or no offence. Had your godfather never a dear
friend that would stand by his heir? Tut! don't interrupt me--if you are
heir to little money, all the more reason you should be heir to the
love. Is there never a man in this country that for the kindness he
bears your late friend, or for affection to you, would hold you his hand
to mount you fair in your saddle, ere you set out on the world? Answer
me plainly and truly, young man--is there no such person in country or
town, within twenty miles of the place where you have lived all your
days?"
Musgrave had changed colour several times during this address, and
evidently hesitated much to answer. After close questioning, the Colonel
at last drew from him that one such friend did exist, but not within
twenty miles, in the person of a county baronet, a very dear friend of
his late godfather, who had, however, been absent from the district for
more than a year, and of whom, during that time, Roger had heard
nothing. He could not tell where he was to be found, and it was with
extreme reluctance that he confessed even his name, which was one
unknown to Colonel Sutherland. Having gone so far, the young man set
himself with all his might to combat the Colonel's idea of asking help
from anybody. He would not--could not--accept a service which he had no
prospect of ever being able to repay. He was determined not to enter the
world weighed down by a burden of obligation. Was it not better to enter
life a common soldier, with only himself to depend upon, he asked
vehemently, than to reach a higher level by the help of another, and
live with the shadow of assistance and patronage upon all his life?
"Would you choose to go through your life without assistance?" said
Colonel Sutherland, calmly, making a note in his pocketbook, and going
on with the conversation without looking up--"would you reject kindness
and friendship, and the hand of your neighbour? Have a care, young
man--the next step to receiving no help is giving none. Would you live
without the charities of life, you foolish boy? And what's to hinder you
entering life with a feeling of obligation? I would like to know a
nobler and a kindlier sentiment than honest manful gratitude. Can you
tell me a better? And how do you know you will never be able to repay
it? Do you debar yourself from ever helping another, when you accept
help yourself? Go away with your nonsense. I trust I am not the man to
advise any youngster against his honour. What do you say--a man is the
best judge for himself? No such thing, boy. Not when the man is twenty.
I will tell you what to do in the meantime--keep quiet for a week or
two, and leave the affair in my hands."
"But you do not know me. I may be deceiving you--telling you
lies--working on your goodnature, for my own advantage," exclaimed
Musgrave, with a voice which, between vexation and gratitude, and the
new hopes which, in spite of himself, began to gain ground upon him, was
almost inaudible.
"Eh?--I'm rather hard of hearing. I did not quite catch what you said,"
said Colonel Sutherland, bending towards him his deaf ear, with that
look of anxious, solicitous kindness and earnest attention which nobody
could resist.
The effect upon poor Roger was almost laughable in its pathos. He turned
red--he turned pale--he could hardly keep the tears out of his boyish
eyes; and, with a voice broken with emotion, shouted out his words so
loud and harsh, that the Colonel started back in alarm and surprise.
"You don't know me--I may be deceiving you!" cried the young man, with a
hurried and abrupt conclusion, singularly like a sob; and so hid his
face in his hands, unable to contain himself, disturbed out of all the
self-possession which thinly veiled the quick susceptibilities of grief.
The Colonel patted him gently on the arm with his kind hand.
"That is true," he said, with the simple wisdom of his pure heart, "very
true--you _might_ be deceiving me--but you _are_ not."