Twenty winters had not come and passed away without leaving traces of
their frosty rime upon the heads of Captain Norton and his wife; but as
they stood in the Hall dining-room, hand clasping hand, and gazing into
each others face, it was evident that, whatever might have been the
past, there was peace, content, and happiness there.
"Yes," said Mrs Norton, now grown into a pleasant matronly dame, "he
has come back. The whole village rings with the news. So unexpected,
too."
"Poor fellow!" said Captain Norton, after a few minutes' quiet thought.
"Heaven grant that he may be more happy! I am sorry, though, Ada--very
sorry; for his coming seems to open old wounds. But come--come,
darling!" he exclaimed, as he drew her towards his breast. "Don't wear
that troubled face. Surely, after all these years--"
"Pray forgive me!" said Mrs Norton, nestling closer to him; and she
smiled happily in reply to his caresses. "As you say, Philip, Heaven
help him, and clear up the dark mystery of his life! I do not see why
we should trouble ourselves about his coming back."
"Well--no," said Captain Norton, uneasily; "but one cannot help
recalling how events shaped themselves after his last return. But
there, let us dismiss it all, for I cannot trust myself even now to
dwell upon all these old matters. I would make up my mind to leave, and
at once, in spite of the inconvenience, only that it would be like a
tacit acknowledgment that I was afraid to meet him; and you know how
charitable people can be."
"Oh no; we could not think of leaving," said Mrs Norton, hastily; "but
I think--nay, I feel sure that with him the past will be buried
entirely; for, Philip," she added, solemnly, "may Heaven forgive me if I
am uncharitable, but I believe that the man who could so cruelly malign
my husband must have had his own ends to serve. I could not refrain
from saying this, as the subject was brought up; but whatever evil--
whatever wrong-doing was connected with poor Marion's disappearance,
must some day or other be brought out into the light of day. Twenty
years--twenty long years--has the matter slumbered, and it may slumber
twenty more; and, in spite now of my utter indifference to public
opinion, I cannot help longing for the mystery to be cleared up in our
day. But, whether or no, promise me this, dearest, that it shall not be
allowed to trouble you--that you will not brood over it; and that, come
what may, you will avoid all encounter with that bad, proud man, whose
coming seems like a cloud sent over dear old Merland. I almost feel
thankful that poor Mr and Mrs Elstree are now far away from trouble
and care. There was that dread suspicion, though, in both their hearts;
I feel sure, however, they struggled to the last to keep it back. But
there: let us dismiss it all; and you promise me, do you not?"
Captain Norton's calm, quiet smile was enough to reassure his wife; and
as he took his seat at a side-table, covered with correspondence, she
stood behind him, leaning her hands upon his shoulder.
"We are going on at a famous rate, Ada," he said, after a busy pause, in
short, sharp, decisive tones, that smacked of the man of
business--"returns increasing every month. Some of the prophetic old
wiseacres would give their ears now for shares in our rusty old iron
company. By the way, though, Brace has not written for any money
lately. Is it not time we heard from him?"
"Yes," said Mrs Norton, with anxiety in her tones; "and--"
"Now, don't be an old fidget," said the Captain, laughingly, as once
more he drew her towards him. "That poor old head of yours is as full
of shipwrecks and disasters at sea as one of the wreck-charts or Lloyd's
ledgers. What a pity it is that we did not have half-a-dozen boys for
you to share that weak old heart of yours amongst, so that you need not
have had to worry yourself to death about one!"
"But surely we ought to have had a letter a month since."
"Certainly, my love, if the poor boy had had a post-office close at hand
into which he could pop it. Don't be so unreasonable. You don't know
how even an adverse wind will keep a vessel away from port for weeks
together. You must study statistics, so as to ease that heart of yours,
by learning how seldom a mishap befalls a ship. We shall be hearing
from him before long, and--There, bless my soul, I must keep a clerk;
I've forgotten to answer Harrison and Son's letter."
"What was that about?" said Mrs Norton, as, pleased to see how happy
her husband was in his business pursuits--upon which, in spite of
adversity at the outset, fortune had of late smiled in full sunshine--
she tried to enter into each matter, knowing full well how his busy life
had been the cure for a mind diseased.
"What was it about?" said Captain Norton, dreamily. "Oh, about the
marsh--the warping, you know. I am to have two thousand acres."
"But I don't know," said Mrs Norton, smiling; "you promised to
explain."
"To be sure; so I did!" he exclaimed, eagerly reaching down a rolled-up
plan, and spreading it upon the table. "Now look here, Ada; this will
be an expensive affair, and we shall reap no benefit from it ourselves,
for it is a matter of years and years; but that young dog will have an
estate which will make him hold up his head as high as he likes. Now,
see here--this is my side. I've bought these two thousand acres of
worthless marshland--worthless save for peat-digging and wild-duck
shooting. This is the piece, Ada, love," he said, solemnly, as he laid
a finger upon the plan. "I chose this so that I might preserve the
pine-wood untouched."
He stopped to gaze up in his wife's face, and as she recalled the past,
she bent over him until her cheek touched his forehead.
"Well, love," he said, raising himself and speaking cheerfully, "we--
that is to say, the other purchasers and myself--dig a large drain, or
canal, through our marsh pieces right to the Trent, and fit our drain
with sluice-gates, so that at every high tide we flood our low tract of
marsh with the thick, muddy waters loaded with the alluvial soil of
Yorkshire and our own county, brought down by many a river and stream,
which, after the fashion of the hill floods, by slow and almost
imperceptible degrees, is deposited upon our peat and rushes, in a
heavy, unctuous, wondrously rich mud, or warp, till, in the course of
time, we have it two, three, and in places even four feet deep. Then
comes the change: we cease flooding, and give all our attention to
thoroughly draining our warp land, which now becomes, in place of marsh,
fit only to grow water-plants, a rich and fertile soil. Nature has
converted it for us; and twenty years hence, instead of marsh, Master
Brace will have a couple of thousand acres of the best soil in England.
That is all I can do for him, and after all I don't think that it will
be such a very mean heritage. Now, love, what do you say to that?"
Mrs Norton's answer was a cry of joy: for at that moment, free of step,
bright and happy, in came Brace Norton, to be strained again and again
to his mother's breast.
There was a grim smile of pride and pleasure upon Captain Norton's
scarred face, as, after hastily rolling up his plans, he caught at his
son's disengaged hand.
"My dear Brace, how well and hearty you look!" he exclaimed, as he
scanned the broad chest and muscular limbs of his son.
"I Well? Ay! father, never better," was the reply. "And I don't know
that I ever saw you look better."
"Oh! I'm well enough," said Captain Norton. "But, my dear boy, what a
pity it is that you did not join our service! With that build of yours,
you would have drilled as upright as a dart."
"And broken my heart over the pipe-clay, eh, father?" laughed the young
man. "I'm right enough--make a tolerable sailor, perhaps, but I should
have been a poor soldier. But, I say," said Brace, after half-an-hour's
questioning and answering, "I have had quite an adventure coming over:
came across a fine, fierce, grey old fellow, with--oh! mamma, the most
lovely girl you ever saw in your life!"
"Pooh!" laughed the Captain, "the sailor's Poll. What asses you boys do
make of yourselves!"
"All right, father; only let me bray in peace."
"Fell in love at first sight, and would have eloped, only the fierce,
grey old fellow was watchful as a dragon, eh, Brace?" said Captain
Norton, smiling.
"Belay, there, will you!" cried Brace. "How can I go on with my story?
Not quite so fast as that. But there, sir, we can spare you for the
present. I'm talking to some one here who can sympathise. Really, you
know," he continued, passing his arm round his mother's waist, as she
gazed at him fondly, and drawing her to the window, "she was about the
sweetest girl I ever set eyes on. Quite an adventure: chaises passing;
theirs overset; sweet girl's temple cut; insensible; offering aid;
received very haughtily by the old gentleman--quite a Spanish grandee!"
Ada Norton started, as those words seemed to carry her back
five-and-twenty years, and the smile upon her lips slowly faded away.
"Well," continued Brace, lightly, "I spoiled my cap by fetching water in
it from a pool, like a true knight-errant would have done with his
casque, and bound up the bleeding temple with my handkerchief. Then,
after a great deal of snubbing from the old gentleman, I was rewarded by
a sweet smile of thanks from the lady as I prevailed upon the Don to
take my chaise and come on. Got them in at last, after a great deal of
ceremonious fencing, and they drove off, but only to stop directly. Old
gentleman leaps out, drags sweet girl after him, and goes raging off;
and all, I suppose, because he had seen my name upon my leather
writing-case; while, for explanation, I have the young lady's
handkerchief, bearing the sweet name of Isa Gernon. But, good heavens,
my dear mother, how pale you look! Father, what is the matter?"
Captain Norton had risen from his seat and advanced to his wife, who,
pale as death, stood gazing at him with a terrified expression upon her
countenance.
"My dear father, what does all this mean?" exclaimed Brace, with real
anxiety in his tones. "What mystery is there here? Of course I
concluded that the elderly gentleman was Sir Murray Gernon; and I have
some misty recollections of an old family quarrel, and Lady Gernon
running away. There, I have arrived at my cable's end. What is it all?
I trust nothing wrong."
"Speak to him, Ada!" cried Captain Norton, hoarsely. "There must be no
more of this!"
And without another word he hurried from the room; while, perfectly
astounded, Brace turned to his mother for some explanation of what was
to him a profound mystery.
Book 2, Chapter V.