Part 58 (1/2)
He concluded this paternal inspection by kissing her on the brow. ”I was an old fool,” he muttered.
”What do you say, dear papa?”
”Nothing, nothing. Kiss me again. Well, love, you had better find this guardian angel of yours, that I may take him by the hand and give him a father's blessing, and make him some little return by carrying him home to England along with my darling.”
”I'll call him, papa. Where can he be gone, I wonder?”
She ran out to the terrace, and called:
”Mr. Hazel! Mr. Hazel! I don't see him; but he can't be far off. Mr.
Hazel!”
Then she came back and made her father sit down; and she sat at his knee beaming with delight.
”Ah, papa,” said he, ”it was you who loved me best in England. It was you that came to look for me.”
”No,” said he, ”there are others there that love you as well in their way. Poor Wardlaw! on his sickbed for you, cut down like a flower the moment he heard you were lost in the _Proserpine._ Ah, and I have broken faith.”
”That is a story,” said Helen; ”you couldn't.”
”For a moment, I mean; I promised the dear old man--he furnished the s.h.i.+p, the men, and the money to find you. He says you are as much his daughter as mine.”
”Well, but what did you promise him?” said Helen, blus.h.i.+ng and interrupting hastily, for she could not bear the turn matters were taking.
”Oh, only to give you the second kiss from Arthur. Come, better late than never.” She knelt before him and put out her forehead instead of her lips. ”There,” said the general, ”that kiss is from Arthur Wardlaw, your intended. Why, who the deuce is this?”
A young man was standing wonder-struck at the entrance, and had heard the general's last words; they went through him like a knife. General Rolleston stared at him.
Helen uttered an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of pleasure, and said, ”This is my dear father, and he wants to thank you--”
”I don't understand this,” said the general. ”I thought you told me there was n.o.body on the island but you and your guardian angel. Did you count this poor fellow for n.o.body? Why, he did you a good turn once.”
”Oh, papa!” said Helen, reproachfully.
”Why, this is my guardian angel. This is Mr. Hazel.”
The general looked from one to another in amazement, then he said to Helen,
”This your Mr. Hazel?”
”Yes, papa.”
”Why, you don't mean to tell me you don't know this man?”
”Know him, papa! why, of course I know Mr. Hazel; know him and revere him, beyond all the world, except you.”
The general lost patience. ”Are you out of your senses?” said he; ”this man here is no Hazel. Why, this is James Seaton--our gardener--a ticket-of-leave man.”
CHAPTER LI.