第 56 页

stopped, to look more attentively at some passage in his book.

Animated with a ray of hope, the child shot on before her grandfather,

and, going close to the stranger without rousing him by the sound of

her footsteps, began, in a few faint words, to implore his help.

He turned his head. The child clapped her hands together, uttered a

wild shriek, and fell senseless at his feet.

CHAPTER 46

It was the poor schoolmaster. No other than the poor schoolmaster.

Scarcely less moved and surprised by the sight of the child than she

had been on recognising him, he stood, for a moment, silent and

confounded by this unexpected apparition, without even the presence of

mind to raise her from the ground.

But, quickly recovering his self-possession, he threw down his stick

and book, and dropping on one knee beside her, endeavoured, by such

simple means as occurred to him, to restore her to herself; while her

grandfather, standing idly by, wrung his hands, and implored her with

many endearing expressions to speak to him, were it only a word.

'She is quite exhausted,' said the schoolmaster, glancing upward into

his face. 'You have taxed her powers too far, friend.'

'She is perishing of want,' rejoined the old man. 'I never thought how

weak and ill she was, till now.'

Casting a look upon him, half-reproachful and half-compassionate, the

schoolmaster took the child in his arms, and, bidding the old man

gather up her little basket and follow him directly, bore her away at

his utmost speed.

There was a small inn within sight, to which, it would seem, he had

been directing his steps when so unexpectedly overtaken. Towards this

place he hurried with his unconscious burden, and rushing into the

kitchen, and calling upon the company there assembled to make way for

God's sake, deposited it on a chair before the fire.

The company, who rose in confusion on the schoolmaster's entrance, did

as people usually do under such circumstances. Everybody called for

his or her favourite remedy, which nobody brought; each cried for more

air, at the same time carefully excluding what air there was, by

closing round the object of sympathy; and all wondered why somebody

else didn't do what it never appeared to occur to them might be done by

themselves.

The landlady, however, who possessed more readiness and activity than

any of them, and who had withal a quicker perception of the merits of

the case, soon came running in, with a little hot brandy and water,

followed by her servant-girl, carrying vinegar, hartshorn,

smelling-salts, and such other restoratives; which, being duly

administered, recovered the child so far as to enable her to thank them

in a faint voice, and to extend her hand to the poor schoolmaster, who

stood, with an anxious face, hard by. Without suffering her to speak

another word, or so much as to stir a finger any more, the women

straightway carried her off to bed; and, having covered her up warm,

bathed her cold feet, and wrapped them in flannel, they despatched a

messenger for the doctor.

The doctor, who was a red-nosed gentleman with a great bunch of seals

dangling below a waistcoat of ribbed black satin, arrived with all

speed, and taking his seat by the bedside of poor Nell, drew out his

watch, and felt her pulse. Then he looked at her tongue, then he felt

her pulse again, and while he did so, he eyed the half-emptied

wine-glass as if in profound abstraction.

'I should give her,' said the doctor at length, 'a tea-spoonful, every

now and then, of hot brandy and water.'

'Why, that's exactly what we've done, sir!' said the delighted landlady.

'I should also,' observed the doctor, who had passed the foot-bath on

the stairs, 'I should also,' said the doctor, in the voice of an

oracle, 'put her feet in hot water, and wrap them up in flannel. I

should likewise,' said the doctor with increased solemnity, 'give her

something light for supper--the wing of a roasted fowl now--'

'Why, goodness gracious me, sir, it's cooking at the kitchen fire this

instant!' cried the landlady. And so indeed it was, for the

schoolmaster had ordered it to be put down, and it was getting on so

well that the doctor might have smelt it if he had tried; perhaps he

did.

'You may then,' said the doctor, rising gravely, 'give her a glass of

hot mulled port wine, if she likes wine--'

'And a toast, Sir?' suggested the landlady.

'Ay,' said the doctor, in the tone of a man who makes a dignified

concession. 'And a toast--of bread. But be very particular to make it

of bread, if you please, ma'am.'

With which parting injunction, slowly and portentously delivered, the

doctor departed, leaving the whole house in admiration of that wisdom

which tallied so closely with their own. Everybody said he was a very

shrewd doctor indeed, and knew perfectly what people's constitutions

were; which there appears some reason to suppose he did.

While her supper was preparing, the child fell into a refreshing sleep,

from which they were obliged to rouse her when it was ready. As she

evinced extraordinary uneasiness on learning that her grandfather was

below stairs, and as she was greatly troubled at the thought of their

being apart, he took his supper with her. Finding her still very

restless on this head, they made him up a bed in an inner room, to

which he presently retired. The key of this chamber happened by good

fortune to be on that side of the door which was in Nell's room; she

turned it on him when the landlady had withdrawn, and crept to bed

again with a thankful heart.

The schoolmaster sat for a long time smoking his pipe by the kitchen

fire, which was now deserted, thinking, with a very happy face, on the

fortunate chance which had brought him so opportunely to the child's

assistance, and parrying, as well as in his simple way he could, the

inquisitive cross-examination of the landlady, who had a great

curiosity to be made acquainted with every particular of Nell's life

and history. The poor schoolmaster was so open-hearted, and so little

versed in the most ordinary cunning or deceit, that she could not have

failed to succeed in the first five minutes, but that he happened to be

unacquainted with what she wished to know; and so he told her. The

landlady, by no means satisfied with this assurance, which she

considered an ingenious evasion of the question, rejoined that he had

his reasons of course. Heaven forbid that she should wish to pry into

the affairs of her customers, which indeed were no business of hers,

who had so many of her own. She had merely asked a civil question, and

to be sure she knew it would meet with a civil answer. She was quite

satisfied--quite. She had rather perhaps that he would have said at

once that he didn't choose to be communicative, because that would have

been plain and intelligible. However, she had no right to be offended

of course. He was the best judge, and had a perfect right to say what

he pleased; nobody could dispute that for a moment. Oh dear, no!

'I assure you, my good lady,' said the mild schoolmaster, 'that I have

told you the plain truth. As I hope to be saved, I have told you the

truth.'

'Why then, I do believe you are in earnest,' rejoined the landlady,

with ready good-humour, 'and I'm very sorry I have teazed you. But

curiosity you know is the curse of our sex, and that's the fact.'

The landlord scratched his head, as if he thought the curse sometimes

involved the other sex likewise; but he was prevented from making any

remark to that effect, if he had it in contemplation to do so, by the

schoolmaster's rejoinder.

'You should question me for half-a-dozen hours at a sitting, and

welcome, and I would answer you patiently for the kindness of heart you

have shown to-night, if I could,' he said. 'As it is, please to take

care of her in the morning, and let me know early how she is; and to

understand that I am paymaster for the three.'

So, parting with them on most friendly terms (not the less cordial

perhaps for this last direction), the schoolmaster went to his bed, and

the host and hostess to theirs.

The report in the morning was, that the child was better, but was

extremely weak, and would at least require a day's rest, and careful

nursing, before she could proceed upon her journey. The schoolmaster

received this communication with perfect cheerfulness, observing that

he had a day to spare--two days for that matter--and could very well

afford to wait. As the patient was to sit up in the evening, he

appointed to visit her in her room at a certain hour, and rambling out

with his book, did not return until the hour arrived.

Nell could not help weeping when they were left alone; whereat, and at

sight of her pale face and wasted figure, the simple schoolmaster shed

a few tears himself, at the same time showing in very energetic

language how foolish it was to do so, and how very easily it could be

avoided, if one tried.

'It makes me unhappy even in the midst of all this kindness' said the

child, 'to think that we should be a burden upon you. How can I ever

thank you? If I had not met you so far from home, I must have died,

and he would have been left alone.'

'We'll not talk about dying,' said the schoolmaster; 'and as to

burdens, I have made my fortune since you slept at my cottage.'

'Indeed!' cried the child joyfully.

'Oh yes,' returned her friend. 'I have been appointed clerk and

schoolmaster to a village a long way from here--and a long way from the

old one as you may suppose--at five-and-thirty pounds a year.

Five-and-thirty pounds!'

'I am very glad,' said the child, 'so very, very glad.'

'I am on my way there now,' resumed the schoolmaster. 'They allowed me

the stage-coach-hire--outside stage-coach-hire all the way. Bless you,

they grudge me nothing. But as the time at which I am expected there,

left me ample leisure, I determined to walk instead. How glad I am, to

think I did so!'

'How glad should we be!'

'Yes, yes,' said the schoolmaster, moving restlessly in his chair,

'certainly, that's very true. But you--where are you going, where are

you coming from, what have you been doing since you left me, what had

you been doing before? Now, tell me--do tell me. I know very little

of the world, and perhaps you are better fitted to advise me in its

affairs than I am qualified to give advice to you; but I am very

sincere, and I have a reason (you have not forgotten it) for loving

you. I have felt since that time as if my love for him who died, had

been transferred to you who stood beside his bed. If this,' he added,

looking upwards, 'is the beautiful creation that springs from ashes,

let its peace prosper with me, as I deal tenderly and compassionately

by this young child!'

The plain, frank kindness of the honest schoolmaster, the affectionate

earnestness of his speech and manner, the truth which was stamped upon

his every word and look, gave the child a confidence in him, which the

utmost arts of treachery and dissimulation could never have awakened in

her breast. She told him all--that they had no friend or

relative--that she had fled with the old man, to save him from a

madhouse and all the miseries he dreaded--that she was flying now, to

save him from himself--and that she sought an asylum in some remote

and primitive place, where the temptation before which he fell would

never enter, and her late sorrows and distresses could have no place.

The schoolmaster heard her with astonishment. 'This child!'--he

thought--'Has this child heroically persevered under all doubts and

dangers, struggled with poverty and suffering, upheld and sustained by

strong affection and the consciousness of rectitude alone! And yet the

world is full of such heroism. Have I yet to learn that the hardest

and best-borne trials are those which are never chronicled in any

earthly record, and are suffered every day! And should I be surprised

to hear the story of this child!'

What more he thought or said, matters not. It was concluded that Nell

and her grandfather should accompany him to the village whither he was

bound, and that he should endeavour to find them some humble occupation

by which they could subsist. 'We shall be sure to succeed,' said the

schoolmaster, heartily. 'The cause is too good a one to fail.'

They arranged to proceed upon their journey next evening, as a

stage-waggon, which travelled for some distance on the same road as

they must take, would stop at the inn to change horses, and the driver

for a small gratuity would give Nell a place inside. A bargain was

soon struck when the waggon came; and in due time it rolled away; with

the child comfortably bestowed among the softer packages, her

grandfather and the schoolmaster walking on beside the driver, and the

landlady and all the good folks of the inn screaming out their good

wishes and farewells.

What a soothing, luxurious, drowsy way of travelling, to lie inside

that slowly-moving mountain, listening to the tinkling of the horses'

bells, the occasional smacking of the carter's whip, the smooth rolling

of the great broad wheels, the rattle of the harness, the cheery

good-nights of passing travellers jogging past on little short-stepped

horses--all made pleasantly indistinct by the thick awning, which

seemed made for lazy listening under, till one fell asleep! The very

going to sleep, still with an indistinct idea, as the head jogged to

and fro upon the pillow, of moving onward with no trouble or fatigue,

and hearing all these sounds like dreamy music, lulling to the

senses--and the slow waking up, and finding one's self staring out

through the breezy curtain half-opened in the front, far up into the