Part 2 (1/2)
”I have no fear for myself, for I trust in One 'mighty to save;' but I am anxious about my gentle Clara, so ill able to battle with the troubles of life. I wish that we had not let Harry go; I could have left her with confidence in his care. Would that he could be recalled!”
”His s.h.i.+p is across the bay by this time. We acted for the best, and must trust to Him who ever cares for the orphan and widow. While I live, I will be a father to your child, and a.s.sist her aunt in watching over her,” answered the general; ”but cheer up, my friend, I do not speak to one ignorant of the truth, and therefore I can say that G.o.d may still preserve your life for her sake, though you will undoubtedly be the gainer by going hence, as all are who die in the Lord. We can pray to Him to protect her.” And the gallant old soldier knelt down by the side of his friend, as by that of a beloved brother, and together they lifted up their voices to Him in whom they trusted. Though Captain Maynard could but faintly repeat the words uttered by the general, his heart spoke with the fervency of a true Christian who expects soon to be in the presence of his Saviour. He pressed the general's hand. ”And whatever happens, my dear friend, I feel confident that you will fulfil your promise,” he said.
Before the general left the house, he spoke for some time to Miss Pemberton, who was fully convinced that her brother-in-law had not many hours to live. The captain, however, the next day had greatly recovered; and while Miss Pemberton was seated in the drawing-room, Clara being with her father, Mr and Mrs Lerew were announced. Mrs Lerew advancing, took Miss Pemberton's hand, and sank into a seat, her husband following with the most obsequious of bows and blandest of smiles.
”My dear lady, I rejoice to find you within,” he said, ”as I am anxious to have some earnest conversation with you, while perhaps, if I may venture to make the request, your niece will show the garden to Mrs Lerew.”
”Clara is with her father, who is still, I regret to say, very ill,”
answered Miss Pemberton; ”but I will summon her, that she may have the pleasure of seeing Mrs Lerew.”
”Not for the world,” answered the vicar: ”the present opportunity is propitious. I was aware of Captain Maynard's serious illness; indeed, I am most desirous to speak to him on the subject of his soul's welfare.
From what his medical attendant tells me, I fear that his days are numbered; and you will pardon me when I say it, I grieve to hear that he has been sadly neglectful of his religious duties.”
”I hope you are mistaken,” answered Miss Pemberton, somewhat astonished at the remark; ”though I have not resided long with him, I have always understood that he was specially attentive to them.”
”Not to some of the most important,” said Mr Lerew: ”he has not once been to the celebration of the Holy Eucharist since I became vicar of the parish, nor has he attended matin-song or even-song, which I have performed daily; and I regret to observe that neither you nor your niece have been present.”
”My brother-in-law has not been in the habit of attending any but Sunday services, nor have I, I confess,” said Miss Pemberton; ”but I shall be very happy, if he gets better, to drive over with my niece, should you think it right.”
”Right!” exclaimed Mr Lerew in a tone of amazement; ”I consider it a great sin to neglect such means of grace, and by neglecting them you encourage others to do so likewise; whereas if people of position set a good example, it will be followed by their inferiors. But, my dear lady, I fear that I have said what may sound harsh in your ears. One of my great objects to-day is to see your brother-in-law alone, and I must ask you to enable me to do so while Mrs Lerew is paying her respects to your niece.”
Miss Pemberton, seeing no objection to this, undertook to send Clara down, and to beg Captain Maynard to receive the vicar. She went upstairs for this purpose. Of course the sick man could not decline the vicar's visit, and Clara having very unwillingly left her father, Mr Lerew was ushered into his room. The new vicar spoke softly and gently, and expressed his sorrow to hear of the captain's serious illness. He then went on to speak of the importance of being prepared for death.
”I would urge you, therefore, my dear sir, to confess your sins to me, that I may absolve you from them, as I have authority from my office.”
”Yes, sir, I have many sins to confess, and I have already with hearty repentance done so to my G.o.d,” answered the captain, sitting up in bed.
”I am very sure, too, that they are all washed away in the blood of Jesus Christ.”
The vicar gave a suppressed hem. He at once saw that he must drop the point of confession. ”Then, my dear sir,” he added, ”I should have no hesitation in administering to you the Holy Eucharist, which, knowing your dangerous state, I reserved for you on Sunday last, and have now brought in my pocket.”
”I do not exactly understand you, sir,” answered the captain, wondering what his visitor could mean.
”You would surely wish to enjoy the benefit of that Holy Sacrament,”
said the vicar, ”and I have brought the consecrated elements with me, the wafer and the wine mingled with water, which latter it is lawful in the Anglican Church to administer.”
”I understand you now, and am much obliged to you for your kind intentions,” said the captain, ”but the truth is, I should prefer taking the sacrament with my old friends, Mr Lennard and General Caulfield, with my daughter, and sister-in-law, and the members of my household.
We have always an ample supply of bread and wine for the purpose.”
”Of my predecessor I say nothing, and hope that he will be brought ere long to the knowledge and practice of the truth,” exclaimed Mr Lerew.
”General Caulfield--pardon me for saying it--is, I understand, a schismatic with whom we are bound to hold no communion. He has for several Sundays attended a dissenting conventicle, and actually takes upon himself to preach and to attempt to teach his ignorant fellow-creatures; for ignorant and benighted those must be who listen to him. It will be at the peril of your soul, I am bound to tell you, Captain Maynard, should you invite him to be present at the awful ceremony you propose to hold.”
”I will be responsible for the risk I may run,” answered Captain Maynard, the spirit of the old sailor rising within him. ”I cannot allow my dearest friend, in whose truly religious character I have unbounded confidence, to be so spoken of without protest. In my state, especially, I would quarrel with no man. You made a mistake, Mr Lerew, in thus speaking of that excellent man.”
”I deeply regret it,” said the vicar. ”I must not longer intrude on you, but I am bound to tell you, Captain Maynard, that I consider your soul in imminent danger, and I earnestly pray that another day, ere it be too late, a benign influence may induce you more willingly to receive my ministrations. Farewell.” And Mr Lerew, rising with a frowning brow, walked to the door, while the captain, sinking back on his pillow, rang his bell. Soon after Mr Lerew had returned to the drawing-room, the servant entered to say that the captain wished to see Miss Clara, and she, without even stopping to say good-bye to her guests, hurried upstairs. The vicar's manner was calm as usual. Miss Pemberton had scarcely time to ask whether he had had a satisfactory interview with her brother-in-law, when Lieutenant and Mrs Sims entered the room.
Miss Pemberton was compelled to shake hands with them, as the lieutenant advanced in his usual hearty fas.h.i.+on, but she showed that their arrival caused her no great satisfaction. Mr Lerew and his wife received them in a stiff manner, and the former held out two fingers, which Sims nearly dislocated as he grasped them in his rough palm. The lieutenant, having enquired after Captain Maynard, and being informed by Miss Pemberton that he was as well as she could hope, found himself compelled to relapse into silence, as Mr Lerew, giving a hint to his wife to attend to Mrs Sims, requested a few moments conversation with Miss Pemberton in the bay window. Leading the lady to it, he spoke in so low a voice, that even Mrs Sims, much as she might have wished to do so, could not catch a word--while the honest lieutenant, who did not trouble himself about the matter, endeavoured to make amends for the somewhat unintelligible replies which his wife gave to Mrs Lerew.
The first portion of the vicar's conversation had reference to Clara; he then continued in the same suppressed tone, ”The General, also, is not a man on whose religious opinions you should place reliance, my dear madam, and I would especially urge you to prevent him, by every means in your power, from coming here. He can only lead your poor brother-in-law from the right path, and may induce him to refrain from taking advantage of the sacred offices I am so anxious to render.”
In a few minutes Mr Lerew and Miss Pemberton returned to their seats, the former observing in a voice which he intended should be heard, ”General Caulfield may be a very worthy soldier, but I unhesitatingly say, and I wish it to be known, that I consider any person, whatever his rank, is to be greatly blamed who enters a dissenting chapel, and without authority pretends to preach to the ignorant populace.”