"And where had my father been at the time?" said Brace Norton, after
sitting with knitted brows listening to his mother's narrative of the
past.
"France--abroad--to avoid arrest; for his affairs in connection with the
mine were then in a sad state. It was his absence which made matters
wear so suspicious an aspect."
"Suspicious? Yes," said Brace, angrily, "suspicious enough to base
minds! How long was he away?"
"Five, nearly six, months," said Mrs Norton.
"But you never believed this charge, mother? You never thought my
father guilty?"
"Guilty? No!" exclaimed Mrs Norton, proudly. "Your father, Brace, is
the soul of honour, and above suspicion; but matters shaped themselves
most cruelly against him."
"That Gurdon must have had the cross," said Brace, after a thoughtful
pause; "and you say that he obtained his deserts--transported?"
Mrs Norton nodded her head.
"But Lady Gernon's disappearance--what could have become of her? Was it
possible that she was deluded away out of revenge--perhaps with the
cross for a bait--by some one or other of Gurdon's associates, so that
she fell into some trap?"
"My son--my dear boy, pray do not talk of it any more," said Mrs
Norton, sadly. "It is a rock upon which our happiness was nearly
wrecked; but avoid it now. It was right that you should know all after
the strange meeting of to-day; but you see now the reason for your
father's--for my agitation, and for the strong emotion displayed by Sir
Murray Gernon. It is quite impossible, as you must see, that the old
intimacy should be renewed. Your fathers--my peace of mind depends upon
our keeping at a distance--upon the past, Brace, being deeply buried.
You see that I am speaking freely--that I am keeping nothing back, in
order that you may be upon your guard, and do nothing to endanger the
happiness of what, my child, has been these many years a happy home."
"But," exclaimed Brace, impetuously, "if the mystery could be cleared
up! I do not like that, even with Sir Murray Gernon, there should be a
doubt of my father's honour."
"Brace, my dear boy," said Mrs Norton, laying her hand upon the young
man's arm, "let the past rest; it is a subject that has brought white
hairs into more than one head. It has been thought upon till left in
despair. I pray to be forgiven if I am unjust, but I do not think that
Sir Murray Gernon entertains a single suspicion against your father,
whatever he may once have felt. Time must have removed old impressions;
but for his own black conduct--There, I dare not say what I think, even
to you, Brace!"
There was a contraction of the young man's features, as an inkling of
the meaning of his mother's hastily-spoken words flashed across his
mind. Then, rising, he began to pace the room with impatient strides,
for there was a sense of disappointment at his heart which he could not
overcome; and in spite of his efforts, there seemed to be continually
before him the sweet, timid face and the reclining figure that he had
for a few minutes supported; while, as he pondered upon his mothers
words, again piecing together her long narrative, it seemed to him that
he was every minute being removed further and further from one who had
made what in another case he would have called an impression upon a
susceptible nature. It was as though each moment a deep, black gulf was
opening wider and wider between them--a gulf that it would be impossible
for him ever to pass. Then, as Mrs Norton watched him anxiously, he
stood gazing from the window, telling himself that it was absurd to
treat matters in such a light; that he had seen Isa Gernon but for a few
minutes; that he had barely spoken to her; that she might be engaged to
another; that she might be in disposition unamiable, and in tastes
utterly opposed to his; that, in short, he was making an utter ass of
himself. But, all the same, there were those two large, sad eyes ever
before him, gazing reproachfully in his face from beyond that great
gulf--ever widening more and more, more and more, till, impatiently
stamping upon the floor, he made an angry effort to cast the "folly"
from him, and went and knelt down by his mother's side.
"I am sorry, Brace," she said, as her hand played, with all a proud
mother's tenderness, amongst his fair, crisply-curling hair--"I am
grieved that my words should have made so troublous an impression."
"It is not that--it is not that! There, what am I saying?" he
exclaimed, with assumed cheerfulness. "I've come home in high spirits,
brimful of happiness, and ready to enjoy myself; so, dear mother, don't
let us trouble about the past--let it be buried."
"Yes, better so--far better so!" exclaimed Mrs Norton. "For our sakes,
Brace, never refer to it before your father in any wise; for those
incidents were so many shoals in the way of his happiness; but, Brace, I
set myself to try and make his life happy, and sometimes I cannot help
thinking that I have succeeded."
"Indeed, no happier home than this could ever have existed, I'm sure,"
cried Brace, smiling in his mother's pleasant face. "But," he added, as
he kissed her, laughing, "it does seem hard that when you have cured a
husband of a roving disposition, you should have a son turn out far
worse."
Mrs Norton smiled, but a grave, sad expression swept the next moment
over her face.
"Save for his business transactions, Brace, that was your father's last
long absence from me--for I suffered deeply then. I think that on his
return from France, when he had had some arrangements made by which he
gained time to pay off every demand, he saw how I had felt his absence,
and made a resolve to leave me no more, and he has kept to that
determination."
"The mines nearly ruined him, then, in the first place?" said Brace.
"Very nearly; but he had such faith in them that for five years we lived
almost in poverty that we might pay off debts; when, as his last
creditor was satisfied, your father's faith met with its reward, and
ever since the mines have gone on increasing their returns year by year.
But let us go to him now. You will be careful, though, Brace; you see
now how necessary it is that not even a reference should be made to the
bygone?"
"Yes--yes, mother--yes!" said Brace, with a troubled sigh; and they rose
to leave the room, when, with the traces of his former emotion quite
passed away, Captain Norton entered, looking inquiringly at mother and
son, and then entering into conversation upon indifferent topics, as if
nothing had happened.
Book 2, Chapter VI.