accompany him back.
"Yes, yes, my friend," answered the doctor, touched by the old soldier'searnestness, "To-morrow I'll start. I must go in a post-chaise, Icannot ride express as you do. Now go down, and my man Mumford willattend to your wants while your horse is fed. In the meantime, I willlook out the medicines, and write a letter to my good friend Dr. Jessop.Will that satisfy you? Now do go, my good man, do go."
Paul could with difficulty get down any food, but at the same time hisexperience told him that when work was to be done the body must be fed.
He thought the doctor was a long time in concocting the medicine, buthoped that it would be more efficacious in consequence.
When once mounted, with the medicine in a case slung at his back, he didnot spare his speed. His only fear was falling. A horse had been senton to Winchester to meet him. He exchanged it for his tired steed.Winchester was soon passed through and Southampton reached. Shortlyafter leaving the latter place, he encountered Harry Tryon, with a ledhorse, coming to meet him. He mounted it gladly, for his own wasalready tired, and together they galloped back through the forest.
Harry was afraid that Miss Lucy was worse. At all events, they wereanxiously looking out for the doctor or his remedies. The Colonel metthem at the hall-door steps. His face was very grave and anxious. Hewas disappointed at not seeing the doctor, but eagerly took the case ofmedicines.
"Paul, you saved my life once, and by God's providence you may be themeans of paving my daughter's. His will be done, whatever happens."
Dr. Jessop was in attendance. The remedies sent by the London doctorwere administered, but Lucy was very weak. Harry asked Dr. Jessop whathe thought.
"My boy, doctors at all times must not express their thoughts," heanswered, evasively. "Miss Everard is young, and youth is a great thingin a patient's favour. Remember that, and make a good use of yourswhile you enjoy it."
The guests with sad hearts took their departure. The long-expected ballwas not to be. Messages were sent round to the residents in theneighbourhood, informing them that the ball was put off, but in theevening several who had not heard of what had occurred arrived at thedoor. The Colonel went down to speak to them himself. It was withdifficulty he could command his voice, for he saw, with the eye ofaffection, that his beloved daughter was struck by the hand of death.Among others, a party of foreign officers arrived from a neighbouringtown. Captain Everard begged his uncle that he might be allowed to goand speak to them. Refreshments had been placed for those who mightcome from a distance, and they were accordingly invited in. They weregentlemanly men, and Captain Everard received them as a man of theworld. Having mentioned the serious illness of Miss Everard, he at onceturned the conversation to other subjects. Among the guests, he saw onewhose face was familiar; he looked at him again and again, and wastrying to consider where he had seen him. The officer at length becameaware that Captain Everard's eyes were fixed on him.
"Surely we have met before," said the latter. "Was it not at Toulon?"A deep melancholy came over the foreigner's countenance.
"It may be, for I was there once," he answered; "would that I had diedthere, too; but my life was saved by a brave English officer, who, atthe risk of his own, carried me away amid showers of musketry poureddown upon us by my countrymen, and amidst exploding ships, and masses ofburning ruin which showered down upon our heads. Tell me, sir, are youthat officer? for as you know well, my mind was unhinged by the dreadfulevents of that night, and though I have a dim recollection of hisfeatures, if you are he, you will recollect that I had scarcelyrecovered when he was compelled to send me to the hospital."
"Yes, indeed," cried Captain Everard, "I had the satisfaction of savingthe life of a French officer in the way you describe. Captain Rochard,I understood, was his name, and although he remained several weeks in mycabin, all that time he was scarcely conscious of what was taking placearound him."
"Yes, yes, I am the very man," exclaimed the foreign officer, risingfrom his seat, and taking Captain Everard's hand in his own. "Let menow express my gratitude to you, which I was at that time unable to do.I have since then lived a chequered and adventurous life, and though Idare not contemplate the past, I feel that there is still pleasure andsatisfaction to be found in the present. While a spark of hope remainsin the bosom of a man, he cannot desire death."
The other officers seemed much interested at the meeting between theirfriend and the English captain. Captain Rochard, they said, had joinedthem, and one or two had known him formerly when he was in the Frenchmarine, and they were convinced that he would do credit to their corps.
Harry Tryon had come to the house twice before in the day to inquire forLucy; he now returned with the Baron de Ruvigny, who really lookeddejected and almost heartbroken at the illness of the young lady. Harryhad exchanged a few words with Mabel; they were parting words, so wemust not too curiously inquire into what was said. He had been,however, anxious to remain a few days longer, but Lady Tryon insisted onsetting off the next day for London. He once more rejoined the Baron atthe hall-door. He found him standing with the foreign officers, whom hehad invited to spend the rest of the evening at Lynderton. Harry was ofcourse asked to join the party. Captain Everard was parting from themat the hall-door, and as the light fell on Captain Rochard's featuresHarry was sure that he was an old acquaintance. Captain Rochard droppeda little behind his companions as they walked down the avenue, and Harrytook this opportunity of addressing him.
"We have met before, Captain Falwasser," said Harry; "I am sure that Iam not mistaken, and you were very kind to me on one occasion when I wasa boy."
"Ah!" answered the Captain, with a start, "that was my name; I will notdeny it; that is to say, it was my name for a time, and it may be myname again; but at present I must beg you will know me as CaptainRochard, the friend of your relative--is he not?--Captain Everard."
"I will be careful to obey your wishes, Captain Rochard," said Harry;"but Captain Everard is not a relative."
Harry felt himself blushing as he said this, for he certainly hoped thathe might be so some day. Harry felt very curious to know who thisCaptain Rochard could possibly be. He had known him, apparently, as thecommander of a smuggler; now he found him in the character of a militaryofficer. "Perhaps, after all, he may be neither one nor the other,"thought Harry; "there is a peculiarly commanding and dignified air abouthim."
The evening was spent very pleasantly, for although the young Baron wassad at heart, he endeavoured to overcome his feelings, for the sake ofentertaining his guests, and music and pleasant conversation made thehours pass rapidly away. The officers of the foreign legion had neitherthe inclination nor the means of imitating the example of Britishmilitary officers, who at that time, and on such an occasion, would havespent the evening in a carouse. A few glasses of lemonade was probablythe extent of the entertainment afforded by the host, or expected by theguests.
The next morning Harry found himself on the box of Lady Tryon's coach,rumbling away towards London. Her lady's-maid was inside. The footmansat on the box with Harry. Even the beautiful forest scenery throughwhich they passed failed to raise Harry's spirits. He was constantlylooking back in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the chimneys ofStanmore; not that he could really have seen them, by-the-bye, but hisheart flew, at all events, in the direction of his eye. He thought,too, of dear sweet Lucy lying on her sick-bed, too likely, he feared, toprove her death-bed.
The road was none of the best in those days, and Harry and the footmanhad often to get off and help the carriage along. This was a relief,however. They each had a brace of pistols, and a blunderbuss was strungat the back of the box. Harry, however, had a strong suspicion thatSimon, the footman, would be very unwilling to use it, even in defenceof the matured charms of Miss Betsy Frizzle, her ladyship's muchsuffering and much enduring handmaiden. Sometimes the journey occupiedthree days, but her ladyship was in a hurry, and her carriage beingunusually light, and the roads in tolerably good order, th
ey were onlyto sleep one night on the road.
Harry had been so constantly away from home for the last few days, thathe had had no conversation with his grandmother. As they were seated attea in their inn, the old lady again spoke of his marriage with Mabel.
"I told you, Harry, that the Colonel's daughter would die. I knew itlong ago. I saw it in her eye, and her voice told me that she was notto live many years in this world. Thus, mark me, Miss Mabel will becomethe mistress of Stanmore. Now, Harry, I intend to leave you all I havegot, so that you may cut a figure in the world. You are like yourfather in face and figure, and I love you on that account. He was morea man of the world than you are, or will ever become, I suspect. Let metell you it is an important thing to know the world well. I do, andhave