Read Ebook: How It All Came Round by Meade L T

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Ebook has 641 lines and 41572 words, and 13 pages

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"No, I have no children," said the woman in answer to a question of the young lady's; "thank God fur that; who'd want to have young 'uns in a hole like this?"

"You'd never ha' guessed, Dan, as I'd have so much luck," she said. "I met our young lady in the street, and I made bold to 'ax her and come and see you, and she come off at once. This is our Miss Harman, Dan dear."

"Our Miss Harman," repeated the dying man, raising his dim eyes. "She's changed a goodish bit."

"Don't call me yours," said Charlotte. "I never did anything for you."

"Ay, but you tried," said the wife. "Dan and me don't furget as we heerd you cryin' fit to break yer heart outside the study door, and him within, wid a heart as hard as a nether mill-stone, would do nought. No, you did yer werry best; Dan and me, we don't furget."

"No, I don't furget," said the man. "It wor a pity as the old man were so werry 'ard. I wor young and I did it rare and clumsy; it wor to pay a debt, a big, big debt. I 'ad put my 'and to a bit of paper widhout knowing wot it meant, and I wor made to pay for it, and the notes they seemed real 'andy. Well, well, I did it badly, I ha' larnt the right way since from some prison pals. I would not be found out so easy now."

He spoke in an indifferent, drawling kind of voice, which expressed no emotion whatever.

"You are very ill, I fear," said Charlotte, kneeling by his side.

"Ill! I'm dying, miss dear."

Charlotte had never seen death before. She noticed now the queer shade of grey in the complexion, the short and labored breath. She felt puzzled by these signs, for though she had never seen death, this grayness, this shortness of breath, were scarcely unfamiliar.

"I'm dying," continued the man. "I don't much care; weren't it fur Hetty there, I'd be rayther glad. I never 'ad a chance since the old master sent me to prison. I'd ha' lived respectable enough ef the old master 'ad bin merciful that time. But once in prison, always in prison fur a friendless chap like me. I never wanted to steal agen, but I jest 'ad to, to keep the life in me. I could get no honest work hanywhere; then at last I took cold, and it settled yere," pointing to his sunken chest, "and I'm going off, sure as sure!"

"He ain't like to live another twenty-four hours, so the doctor do say," interrupted the wife.

"No, that's jest it. Yesterday a parson called. I used ter see the jail chaplain, and I never could abide him, but this man, he did speak hup and to the point. He said as it wor a hawful thing to die unforgiven. He said it over and over, until I wor fain to ax him wot I could do to get furgiven, fur he did say it wor an hawful thing to die without having parding."

"Oh, it must be, it must be!" said Charlotte, suddenly clasping her hands very tightly together.

"Yes," said Charlotte very softly.

"Please, miss, may a poor dying feller, though he ain't no better nor a common, common thief, may he grip, 'old of yer and?"

"With all my heart."

His wife brought him a tiny and very dirty cardboard box.

Hetty did so, taking from under a tiny bit of cotton-wool a worn, old-fashioned wedding-ring.

"There, miss dear," said Wright, handing it to her, "that wor the old master's wife's ring. I knew as he set more prize to it nor heverything else he had, he used to wear it on a bit of ribbon round his neck. One day he did not put it on, he furgot it, and I, when I found he meant to be so werry, werry 'ard, I took it and hid it, and took it away wid me. It comforted me when I wor so long in prison to think as he might be fretting fur it, and never guess as the lad he were so 'ard on had it. I never would sell it, and now as I has furgiven him, he may have it back agen. You tell him arter I'm dead, tell him as I furgives him, and yere's the ring back agen."

Charlotte slipped the worn little trinket on her finger.

"I will try and give my father your message," she said. "I may not be able at once, but I will try. I am glad you have forgiven him; we all stand in sore, sore need of that, not only from our fellow-men, but much more from our God. Now good-bye, I will come again." She held out her hand.

"Ah, but miss dear, I won't be yere fur no coming again, I'll be far away. Hetty knows that, poor, poor, gal! Hetty'll miss me, but only fur that I could be real glad, fur now as I ha' furgiven the old master, I feels real heasy. I ain't nothing better nor a common thief, but fur hall that, I think as Jesus 'ull make a place for me somehow nigh of hisself."

"And, miss," said Hester, "I'm real sorry, and so will Dan be when I tell him how bad the old master is."

"My father is not well; but how do you know?" said Charlotte.

"Well, miss, I went to the house to-day, a-looking fur you and the servant she told me, she said as there worn't never a hope, as the old master were safe to die."

"Then maybe I can tell himself hup in heaven as I quite furgives him," said Dan Wright.

Charlotte glanced from one speaker to the other in a kind of terrible astonishment. Suddenly she knew on whose brow she had seen that awful grayness, from whose lips she had heard that short and hurried breath. A kind of spasm of great agony suddenly contracted her heart. Without a word, however, she rose to her feet, gave the wife money for her present needs, bade the dying husband good-bye, and stepped into the cab which still waited for her. It was really late, and all daylight had faded as she gave the direction for her own luxurious home.

THREE FACTS.

Dinner was more than half over when she reached Prince's Gate. She was glad of this. She went straight up to her own room and sent for her maid.

"Ward, I am very tired and not very well. I shall not go down again to-night, nor do I wish to see any one. Please bring up a cup of strong tea here, and a little dry toast, and then you may leave me. I shall not want you again to-night."

"You won't see Mr. Harman again to-night, miss. Am I to take him that message?"

"Yes; say that I have a headache and think I had better stay quiet. I will be down to breakfast as usual."

Ward went away, to return in a few moments with the tea and toast.

Charlotte gave a little involuntary shudder.

"Yes, I am much too tired," she said; "put everything away, I do not want even to look at them. Thank you, Ward, this tea looks nice. Now you need not come in again. Good-night."

"Good night, Miss Harman," said the maid, going softly to the door and closing it behind her.

Charlotte was very ignorant as to how the law would act with regard to such a crime as her father's. Doubtless there would be a public trial, a public disgrace. He would be dragged into the prisoner's dock; his old white head would be bowed low there, and he was a dying man.

In the first shock and horror of finding that the father she had always almost worshipped could be guilty of such a terrible crime, a great rush of anger and almost hardness had steeled her heart against him; but now tenderer feelings came back. Pity, sad-eyed and gentle, knocked at her heart, and when she let in pity, love quickly resumed its throne. Yes; whatever his crime, whatever his former life, she loved that old man. That white-headed, broken-hearted man, so close to the grave, was her father, and she his only child. When she spoke to Sandy Wilson to-day she had felt no desire to save the guilty from his rightful fate. But now her feelings were different. A great cry arose in her heart on his behalf. Could she screen him? could she screen him from his fate? In her agony she rose and flung herself on her knees. "My God, help me; my God, don't forsake me; save my father. Save him, save him, save him."

She felt a little calmer after this broken prayer, and something to do occurred to her with its instant power of tranquillizing. She would find out the doctor whom her father consulted. She would ask Uncle Jasper. She would make him tell her, and she would visit this man early in the morning, and, whatever the consequence, learn the exact truth from his lips. It would help her in her interview later on with Mr. Wilson. Beyond this little immediate course of action, there was no light whatever; but she felt so far calmed, that, about two o'clock, she lay down and sleep came to her--healthy and dreamless sleep, which was sent direct from God to put strength into the brave heart, to enable it to suffer and endure. Many weeks before Mr. Home had said to Charlotte Harman, "You must keep the Christ bright within you." Was His likeness to shine henceforth through all the rest of her life, in those frank eyes, that sweet face, that noble woman's heart, because of and through that great tribulation? We have heard tell of the white robes which they wear who go through it. Is it not worth while for so sacred a result to heat the furnace seven times?

THE DOCTOR'S VERDICT.

In her terrible anger and despair Charlotte had almost forgotten Uncle Jasper; but when she came down to breakfast the following morning and saw him there, for he had come to Prince's Gate early, and was standing with her father on the hearthrug, she suddenly remembered that he too must have been guilty; nay, worse, her father had never tried to deceive her, and Uncle Jasper had. She remembered the lame story he had told her about Mrs. Home; how fully she had believed that story, and how it had comforted her heart at the time! Now she saw clearly its many flaws, and wondered at her own blindness. Charlotte had always been considered an open creature--one so frank, so ingenuous, that her secrets, had she ever tried to have any, might be read like an open book; but last night she had learned to dissemble. She was glad when she entered the cheerful breakfast-room to find that she was able to put her hardly learned lesson in practice. Knowing what she did, she could yet go up and kiss her father, and allow her uncle to put his lips to her cheek. She certainly looked badly, but that was accounted for by the headache which she confessed still troubled her. She sat down opposite the tea-urn, and breakfast was got through in such a manner that Mr. Harman noticed nothing particular to be wrong. He always drove to the City now in his own private carriage, and after he had gone Charlotte turned to Jasper.

"Uncle Jasper," she said, "you have deceived me."

"Good heavens! how, Charlotte?" said the old uncle.

Uncle Jasper heaved a slight but still audible sigh of relief. Was this all? These fears he might even yet quiet.

"I have not deceived you, Charlotte," he said, "for I do not believe your father to be seriously ill."

He fixed his keen gray eyes on her face as he spoke. She returned his gaze without shrinking.

"Still you do think him ill?" she said.

"Well, any one to look at him must admit that he is not what he was."

"Just so, Uncle Jasper. So you have told me very many times, when you have feared my troubling him on certain matters. Now it has come to me from another source that he is very ill. My eyes have been opened, and I see the fact myself. I wish to learn the simple and exact truth. I wish to see the doctor he has consulted."

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