Part 2 (1/2)
”My dear--my dear child,” Mr. Wilton said, ”no one can help me now; I am ruined! But your mother promised not to tell you. You might as well have had another night of peace,--just as well. I told her to keep it from the children.”
”But, dear father, I am not like a child now. I am the eldest girl, and I ought to know what troubles you. Mother could not keep it from me; she was obliged to tell some one. I want to ask you to be so very kind as not to go into Fairchester again to-day, but stay quiet.”
”Nonsense,” said Mr. Wilton impatiently; ”I must go. Why should I leave the sinking s.h.i.+p like this? I am very well. It is all Stone's humbug, frightening your poor mother out of her wits. Here, give me another gla.s.s of wine, and then ring for Curtis to come round with the dog-cart.”
Mr. Wilton suddenly rose from his chair, and before Salome could prevent it he had emptied the decanter into a tumbler, and was raising it to his lips when he dropped it with a crash upon the ground, his hand fell powerless at his side, and he sank back in the chair speechless and unconscious of any outward thing.
Instantly Salome's first thought was of her mother--to save her from the sudden shock which had blanched her own lips with terror, and for a moment left her as helpless as her poor father.
Then, instead of ringing the bell frantically, or calling out aloud, as so many girls would have done, she ran with the speed of lightning to the nursery and called her faithful friend there.
”Come to papa! quick, Stevens, quick!” Then as nurse threw down her work and obeyed her she flew to the garden, where Reginald, all unconscious of the impending sorrow, was lying under the cedar tree.
”Reginald, Reginald, get up! father is much worse. Send to Fairchester for Mr. Stone, or any doctor; _pray_ make haste.”
”Father! what is the matter with him?”
”Oh, I don't know! His face is an awful gray colour, and his mouth--O Reginald, don't ask me, only go and get some help; but don't let mother be frightened.”
Reginald did as she told him without farther question; and Salome returned to the library.
The servants were gathered there now--the old butler, Greenwood; Stevens, the nurse, who had seen Mr. Wilton bring home his bride; others of the large household standing near in awe-struck silence. They made way for the little figure that appeared at the door, and let Salome pa.s.s to Stevens, who was supporting her master's head, while Greenwood was loosing his collar.
”You can do no good, my dear Miss Salome; no good.”
”What do you mean, Stevens? I have sent Reginald for Mr. Stone--” Here she stopped, for Greenwood broke out into convulsive crying.
”The dear master is struck for death, and no mortal power can help him now!”
That evening about seven o'clock, Salome, sitting by her mother's side in the hushed and darkened room where the master of Maplestone lay breathing heavily, quite unconscious of any outward thing, heard the sound of horses' feet. She rose quickly and went to the hall door.
”It is Raymond. I had better tell him,” she said.
On her way she met Ada, her pretty face washed with tears, like a rose in a heavy shower, who said,--
”Raymond has come back on one of Mr. St. John's horses, Salome. He has broken Captain's knees; just think of that!”
”Does he know?” Salome asked.
”I daresay they have told him in the stables. Is there any change in father?”
Salome shook her head. ”Will you go and sit with mother while I find Raymond? Reginald is gone with the messages to the De Brettes and Fergusons.”
”Oh, I am afraid to see father,” Ada said, shuddering. ”I dare not go. I wonder if Uncle Loftus will come; Miss Barnes says he is sure to start when he gets the telegram. Here comes Raymond.”
Raymond came in with a would-be careless air, trying to whistle. Salome went up to him.
”Raymond, do you know what has happened?”
”My father is ill, you mean. What is the matter with him? I shall be spared a row about Captain. I have been and done for Captain, and for myself pretty nearly. What do you both look so scared for?”
”Come into the drawing-room and I will tell you, Raymond. O Raymond!”