CHAPTER XIII
His Last Message
I hold it true whate'er befall, I feel it when I sorrow most: ''Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.'--_Tennyson._
This letter reached Agatha soon after the sad news had come to Clare ofCaptain Knox's death. At first his relatives hoped there might be somemistake, but when further details came to hand, they corroborated thefirst tidings received, and some weeks after his baggage was sent home,and as much information was given to his sorrowing relatives as couldbe gleaned from the one or two survivors of the fated party.
His mother wrote kindly to Clare, and gave her as much information asshe had herself received, but that was not much. The little party hadbeen surprised one day when out surveying, and were shot down one afterthe other by an unfriendly tribe who surrounded them. Two escaped totell the tale, but when a punitive force was sent out at once, therewere no signs of the fray. The enemy had carried off the bodies oftheir victims, and escaped beyond the reach of justice.
For days Clare was almost beside herself with grief, and in despairAgatha sent over for Miss Villars.
'She is so fond of you, that you may be able to comfort her as wecannot,' said Agatha, when Miss Villars promptly arrived on the scene.Miss Villars shook her head sadly.
'No human comfort is of much use in a case like this,' she said; butshe went upstairs, and remained two hours with Clare, and when she leftClare begged her to come to her again.
'You do me good. You make me think there is a God, after all. I havebeen doubting everything. I feel it is a judgment on all my discontentand bad temper. I often used to tire of him, and wish he weredifferent; and now I feel it would be heaven itself to see him standingbefore me as he used to do!'
To her sisters Clare preserved a stolid, impassive demeanour. Shewould not leave the house for three weeks after the tidings had come,and then unfortunately meeting Miss Miller, she was subjected toquestionable sympathy.
'Very glad to see you out, my dear. Why haven't you been to churchlately? It's a very bad sign to keep away from the means of grace whenin trouble. Have you heard the particulars of Captain Knox's death? Ihope you are quite certain about it, you seem to have gone intomourning very quickly. In cases like this there are often mistakesmade. Was the body identified? Well--well, I am very sorry for you;but you would have felt it more if you had been his wife!'
Clare turned and fled from her, and stayed away from church for a monthlonger, then only going at Agatha's most earnest request.
When Gwen's letter was received, and Clare heard the contents, she saidlistlessly,--
'Walter can have my money if he likes; it will make no difference tome. You can write to Mr. Watkins, and get him to see to it, Agatha.'
'And mine, too,' put in Elfie brightly. 'Gwen has a good head forbusiness, and if she is going to venture hers, I am sure we can ours.'
But cautious Agatha shook her head, and spread the papers out beforeher with a grave and anxious face. Then she disappeared for a shorttime. She knelt at her bedside and asked for guidance about such animportant step. And when she rose from her knees she thought sadlythat Gwen had planned and purposed without prayer, and wondered if shewere too intent upon her own schemes to be wise in her judgment anddecisions.
'I am going up to town to talk it over with Mr. Watkins,' sheannounced, a short time afterwards. 'I do not wish to be ill-natured,and selfish, and prevent Walter from getting on, but I have a horror ofthese gold-mining companies; and if it should come to a crash, weshould literally have nothing left. Of course, you must do as youplease, only don't act hastily. Let me hear what Mr. Watkins says.'
So to town she went, and came back very tired, but quite decided in herown mind. Mr. Watkins had not scoffed at the company. He had heard agood deal about it, and had clients who were taking shares in it. Hethought it might prove a very good speculation, and there were soundbusiness men backing it up. 'But,' said Agatha, 'he said mostemphatically that it was a speculation, and that no one could bepositively certain of its success; and, after a great deal ofconsideration, I have made up my mind to have nothing to do with it.'
'Did Mr. Watkins advise your not having anything to do with it?' askedElfie.
'No; he was quite neutral. He would not commit himself either way.'
The result was that Clare and Elfie transferred their capital to Mr.Montmorency's company, trusting entirely to the assurances of theprospectuses that their dividends would be paid within the firsttwelvemonth.
And Agatha had the unpleasant task of writing her refusal to Walter,who had written by the same mail as Gwen, painting his future inglowing colours, and loud in praise of Mr. Montmorency.
'Clare,' said Elfie one afternoon, coming into the study, where Clarewas reading in a dreary manner, 'come and see Deb and Patty with me,will you? Agatha wants some honey, and we haven't seen anything ofthem for ages!'
Clare put down her poetry-book with a sigh, but said she would go, andthey were soon sauntering over the meadows to Beehive Cottage, as itwas called by the villagers.
They found both sisters at home, and Deb was busy remaking two merinoskirts for herself and Patty.
''Tis not very often I do dressmakin' at home, but we're gettin' rathershabby, and so I'm turnin' our Sunday bests. Sit down, young ladies,and Patty will get you a glass o' milk.'
'And how is your sister gettin' on over the sea?' asked Patty, when shehad brought the milk and taken a seat opposite her visitors. 'Deb andme often wonders of her, and how she be likin' it.'
'Oh, she is all right--very busy, making us send our money out toinvest in a gold-mine.'
'To buy a gold-mine!' ejaculated Deb.
'No; to put our money in it.'
'Ay; why the need for buryin' it down so deep? The earth iseverywhere; it be a safe bank, 'tis true, but safer close to one, thanin furrin parts, it seems to me.'
Patty spoke emphatically in her breathless manner; and Elfie laughedoutright.
'No, she doesn't want us to bury it. We have taken shares in a companythat is working the gold-mine.'
Deb and Patty shook their heads doubtfully over this statement.
'The company pickin' up gold is generally a low, bad set,' said Deb.'I heard tell at Squire Johnson's of a young gentleman who was nighmurdered by a rascally set of men, and all because of gold in hispocket. Gold ofttimes brings a curse, my dears; 'tis best to spend asyou goes. And if so be as you put a little by for your burial, well,the earth won't tell tales, and a flower will mark the spot. Did Iever tell you o' my great-gran'mother's money pot?'
'No,' said Clare, with interest, for any old tale delighted her; 'tellit to us now.'
'Great-gran'mother were livin' alone, and gran'mother, she were marriedfour mile off, and used to come in on market days, and see the oldlady. Great-gran'mother, she were rather snappy and short, and one dayshe says to gran'mother, "Sally, my girl, when you come to want, pullup a yaller marigold by the roots"; and gran'mother, she laughs, andsays she, "What old wife talk be that, mother? Do marigolds bringluck?" Great-gran'mother, she died soon after, and gran'mother weresore disappointed not to find a few shillin's tied up in a stockin'.The cottage were sold, but gran'father bought it hisself, and movedinto it with his family; and years passed, and then gran'father, hedied of a fever, and gran'mother brought up eleven boys and girls wi'credit. But times got bad, and she were left wi' a cripple daughter,and the t'others scattered away from her, and work failed her, and theywere close on comin' to the House. Gran'mother, she had selled most onher furniture, and there were at last but a crust o' bread in theplace, and she were makin' tea-kettle broth--for she were Devonshire,and they folk is great at that--when all on a sudden, as she werea-sayin', "Now, Alice, this be our last meal in this dear place," thewords of great-gran'mother come surgin' and rushin' through her brain."Sally, my girl, when you come to want, pull up a yaller marigold bythe roots!" and with a hop and a skip, though she were turnedse
venty-five, she goes straight down the garden, and tugs at a fineyaller marigold. It took a power o' strength to pull it up; and thereto the bottom o' the roots was a pot. She pulled of it up, and it werefull o' silver and gold, and kept her and her daughter in ease for everafter.'
'Till they went to the grave,' put in Patty solemnly.
'And do you bury your savings?' asked Elfie, laughing.
Deb looked at Patty, and Patty looked at Deb with grave consideration.Then Deb spoke:
'There is things we can't just confide to every one, young ladies.Will you be havin' a taste of Patty's hot cake before you leave? It'sjust time for it to be comin' out of the oven!'
Patty bustled forward to procure it. Nothing pleased the old womenmore than to show hospitality to any visitors who came to see them.
While the cake was being got ready, Clare went out to look at thebeehives with Deb.
They chatted over them for a few minutes, and then Deb put her handgently on Clare's arm.
'We've heard o' your sad loss, my dear, and our old hearts have achedfor you. 'Tis a heavy cross to have the hope of bein' a happy wifesnatched away, and a lone and loveless spinster's lot insteadstretchin' out in front o' you. 'Tis a long and weary road for youngfeet to travel!'
Poor Clare burst into tears. She could not bear, as yet, to bereminded of her trouble.
'Don't talk of it, Deb,' she said between her sobs; 'it only makes itworse.'
'Ay, ay,' said the old woman, wiping a sympathetic tear away from herown eye with the corner of her apron; 'ye'll be feelin' it sore for atime. But the good Lord will comfort you, if no one else will.'
'It is so dreadful to have to live, whether you like it or not,' saidClare, in that little burst of confidence she sometimes showed tostrangers, though never to her sisters.
'But seems as if it would not be easier to die if one left the workthat has been set us to others to finish,' said Deb gravely.
'I have no work at all,' Clare responded quickly, almost passionately.'I could have been a good wife--I hope I could--but there's nothingleft me now; no one wants me, and there's nothing to do, and I'm sickof everybody and everything!'
'I'm no preacher,' said Deb meditatively, 'and I don't live a saintlylife, so it's no good my settin' myself above my fellows, but Patty andme has our Bibles out once every weekday, and most of all Sundays we'rereadin' it, so I'll make so bold as to pass you a verse that I did apowerful lot of thinkin' over last Sunday. 'Tis this, and maybe, withyour quick, eddicated brain, you'll take it in quicker nor Idid--"Strengthened with all might, according to His glorious power,unto all patience and longsuffering, with joyfulness." Maybe that'syour work just at present, my dear. Shall we go in now?'
Clare's eyes shone through her tears. Slowly and dimly she was seeinglight through her darkness. Miss Villars had done much to help her.But nothing seemed to have shown her the grandeur of suffering as thisone verse, uttered in slow, halting accents by an uncultured woman.She never forgot it. The verse--God's message to her--was then andthere engraved upon her heart; and though she had not yet found her'rightful resting-place,' though she was still alternately halting andgroping her way towards the Light, yet the possibilities of a noblelife, a life in the midst of crushing sorrow, such as represented byDeb's text, had a wonderful attraction for her. She was very silentall the way home that afternoon, and shut herself into the study forsome hours' more reading; but this time her poems were laid aside, andthe Bible had taken their place. It was only a day or two after thatshe had a great joy.
She received a little parcel from Mrs. Knox, containing a smallTestament, a gift of her own to her lover, and inside a letteraddressed to her in his handwriting. It had been written just beforethat fatal day when he had sallied forth so unthinkingly to his death.
'MY DARLING,--
'Just a line to-night, for I may not have much time to write againbefore the mail. We are off into the bush tomorrow on one of ourbusiness expeditions. How I have longed lately for our work to bedone, and the steamer to be bringing me back to you! I have beenhaving grave talks lately with one of our fellows who is a religiouschap. It has brought vividly before me your sweet gravity in thequaint old study that last night we spent together just before I left,when you told me that you thought we both might have more comfort if wehad more religion. Do you remember? What will you say when I tell youthat I have found out that you are right? I cannot express myself,darling, as I should wish, but I can tell you that your littleTestament is my best friend. I have discovered that religion issomething more than a head belief. And here, in the stillness of mytent, I confess----'
This was all. He had evidently broken off hurriedly, and the letterhad found its way to Clare to give her its unfinished message of hope.She bowed her head over it in the silence of her room, and then down onher knees she dropped in a burst of thankfulness for the mercy andtenderness shown her in letting her receive such a message. Allrebellion and mistrust faded away, and in true humility and penitenceClare was enabled to take the final step towards the realization ofthat peace she had longed for all her life--that peace that only comesto a soul that has truly sought and found its Saviour.