The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and he delighteth in
his way.
Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down, for the Lord
upholdeth him with his hand.
I have been young, and now am old, yet have I not seen the
righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging their bread.
As we came to this verse in the psalms I chanced to look up from my book
towards the black-coated pensioners, and amongst them--amongst them--sat
Thomas Newcome.
There was no mistaking him. He wore the black gown of the pensioners of
the Hospital of Grey Friars. The steps of this good man had been ordered
hither by heaven's decree to this alms-house!
The organ played us out of chapel, and I waited until the pensioners
took their turn to quit it. The wan face of my dear old friend flushed
up when he saw me, and his hand shook in mine, "I have found a home,
Arthur," said he. "My good friend Lord H., who is a Cistercian like
ourselves, and has just been appointed a governor, gave me his first
nomination. Don't be agitated, Arthur, my boy; I am very happy. I have
good quarters, good food, good light and fire, and good friends. Why,
sir, I am as happy as the day is long."
We walked through the courts of the building towards his room, which in
truth I found neat and comfortable, with a brisk fire on the hearth, a
little tea-table laid out, and over the mantelpiece a drawing of his
grandson by Clive.
"You may come and see me here, sir, whenever you like--but you must not
stay now. You must go back to your dinner."
Of course I came to him on the very next day, and I had the happiness of
bringing Clive and his little boy to Thomas Newcome that evening. Clive
thought his father was in Scotland with Lord H.
It was at Xmas that Miss Ethel found an old unposted letter of her
grandmother's, Mrs. Newcome, asking her lawyer to add a codicil to her
will leaving a legacy of £6000 to Clive. The letter, of course, had no
legal value, but Ethel was a rich woman, and insisted that the money
should be sent, as from the family.
The old Colonel seemed hardly to comprehend it, and when Clive told him
the story of the legacy, and said they could now pay Mrs. Mackenzie,
"Quite right, quite right; of course we shall pay her, Clivy, when we
can!" was all he said.
So it was, that when happier days seemed to be dawning for the good man,
that reprieve came too late. Grief and years, and humiliation and care,
had been too strong for him, and Thomas Newcome was stricken down. Our
Colonel was no more our friend of old days. After some days the fever
which had attacked him left him, but left him so weak and enfeebled that
he could only go from his bed to the chair by his fireside.
Two more days and I had to take two advertisements to the _Times_ on the
part of poor Clive. Among the announcements of births was printed, "On
the 28th in Howland street, Mrs. Clive Newcome of a son, still born."
And a little lower, in the third division of the same column, appeared
the words, "On the 29th, in Howland street, aged 26, Rosaline, wife of
Clive Newcome, Esq." So this poor little flower had bloomed for its
little day, and pined and withered.
The days went on, and our hopes for the Colonel's recovery, raised
sometimes, began to flicker and fail. One evening the Colonel left his
chair for his bed in pretty good spirits, but passed a disturbed night,
and the next morning was too weak to rise. Then he remained in his bed
and his friends visited him there.
Weeks passed away. Our old friend's mind was gone at intervals, but
would rally feebly; and with his consciousness returned his love, his
simplicity, his sweetness. The circumstances of Clive's legacy he never
understood, but Ethel was almost always with him.
One afternoon in early spring, Thomas Newcome began to wander more and
more. He talked louder; he gave the word of command, spoke Hindustanee
as if to his men. Ethel and Clive were with him, and presently his voice
sank into faint murmurs.
At the usual evening hour the chapel bell began to toll, and Thomas
Newcome's hands feebly beat time. And just as the last bell struck a
peculiar sweet smile shone over his face, and he lifted up his head a
little, and quickly said "Adsum!" and fell back. It was the word we used
at school, when names were called; and lo, he, whose heart was as that
of a little child, had answered his name, and stood in the presence of
The Master.
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