Part 5 (2/2)
Emily had not much to do in comforting the general for his dear son's loss; it clearly was a gain to him, and he felt far freer than when wisdom's eye was on him. Charles had been too keen for father, mother, and brother; too good, too amiable: he saw their ill, condemned it by his life, and showed their dark too black against his brightness. The unnatural deficiency of mother's love had not been overrated: Julian had all her heart; and she felt only obliged to the decamping Charles for leaving Emily so free and clear to his delightful brother. She never thought him dead: death was a repulsive notion at all times to her: no doubt he would turn up again some day. And Julian joked with her about that musty proverb ”a bad penny.”
As to our dear heroine, she never felt so happy in all her life before as now, even when her Charles had been beside her; for within a day of his departure he had written her a note full of affection, hope, and gladness; a.s.suring her of his health, and wealth, and safe arrival on board the Indiaman. The n.o.ble-hearted youth never said one single word about his brother's crime: but he did warn his Emmy to keep close beside the general. This note she got through Mrs. Sainsbury; that invalid lady at Oxton, who never troubled herself to ask or hear one word beyond her own little world--a certain physic-corner cupboard.
And thou--poor miserable man--thou fratricide in mind--and to thy best belief in act, how drags on now the burden of thy life? For a day or two, spirits and segars muddled his brain, and so kept thoughts away: but within a while they came on him too piercingly, and Julian writhed beneath those scorpion stings of hot and keen remorse: and when the coast-guards dragged the Mullet, how that caitiff trembled! and when nothing could be found, how he wondered fearingly! The only thing the wretched man could do, was to loiter, day after day, and all day long, upon the same high path which skirts the tortuous stream. Fascinated there by hideous recollections, he could not leave the spot for hours: and his soft-headed, romantic mother, noticing these deep abstractions, blessed him--for her Julian was now in love with Emily.
CHAPTER XIII.
NEWS OF CHARLES.
AY--in love with Emily! Fiercely now did Julian pour his thoughts that way; if only hoping to forget murder in another strong excitement.
Julian listened to his mother's counsels; and that silly, cheated woman playfully would lean upon his arm, like a huge, coy confidante, and fill his greedy ears (that heard her gladly for very holiday's sake from fearful apprehensions), with lover's hopes, lover's themes, his Emily's perfection. Delighted mother--how proud and pleased was she! quite in her own element, fanning dear Julian's most sentimental flame, and scheming for him interviews with Emily.
It required all her skill--for the girl clung closely to her guardian: he, unconscious Argus, never tired of her company; and she, remembering dear Charles's hint, and dreading to be left alone with Julian, would persist to sit day after day at her books, music, or needle-work in the study, charming General Tracy by her pretty Hindoo songs. With him she walked out, and with him she came in; she would read to him for hours, whether he snored or listened; and, really, both mother and son were several long weeks before their scheming could come to any thing. A _tete-a-tete_ between Julian and Emily appeared as impossible to manage, as collision between Jupiter and Vesta.
However, after some six weeks of this sort of mining and counter-mining (for Emily divined their wishes), all on a sudden one morning the general received a letter that demanded his immediate presence for a day or two in town; something about prize-money at Puttymuddyfudgepoor.
Emily was too high-spirited, too delicate in mind, to tell her guardian of fears which never might be realized; and so, with some forebodings, but a cheerful trust, too, in a Providence above her, she saw the general off without a word, though not without a tear; he too, that stern, close man, was moved: it was strange to see them love each other so.
The moment he was gone, she discreetly kept her chamber for the day, on plea of sickness; she had cried very heartily to see him leave her--he had never yet left her once since she could recollect--and thus she really had a head-ache, and a bad one.
Julian Tracy gave such a start, that he knocked off a cheffonier of rare china and gla.s.s standing at his elbow; and the smash of mandarins and porcelain G.o.ds would have been enough, at any other time, to have driven his mother crazy.
”Charles alive?” shouted he.
”Yes, Julian--why not? You saw him off, you know: cannot you remember?”
Now to that guilty wretch's mind the fearful notion instantaneously occurred, that Emily Warren was in some strange, wild way bantering him; she knew his dreadful secret--”he _had_ seen him off.” He trembled like an aspen as she looked on him.
”Oh yes, he remembered, certainly; but--but where was her letter?”
”Never mind that, Julian; you surely would not read another person's letters, Monsieur le Chevalier Bayard?”
Emily was as gay at heart that morning as a sky-lark, and her innocent pleasantry proved her strongest s.h.i.+eld. Julian dared not ask to see the letter--scarcely dared to hope she had one, and yet did not know what to think. As to any love scene now, it was quite out of the question, notwithstanding all his mother's hints and management; a new exciting thought entirely filled him: was he a Cain, a fratricide, or not? was Charles alive after all? And, for once in his life, Julian had some repentant feelings; for thrilling hope was nigh to cheer his gloom.
It really seemed as if Emily, sweet innocent, could read his inmost thoughts. ”At any rate,” observed she, playfully, ”Bayard may take the postman's privilege, and see the outside.”
With that, she produced the s.h.i.+p-letter that had put her in such spirits, legibly dated some twenty-two days ago. Yes, Charles's hand, sure enough! Julian could swear to it among a thousand. And he fainted dead away.
What an astonis.h.i.+ng event! how Mrs. Tracy praised her n.o.ble-spirited boy! How the bells rang! and hot water, and cold water, and salts, and rubbings, and _eau de Cologne_, and all manner of delicate attentions, long sustained, at length contributed to Julian's restoration. Moreover, even Emily was agreeably surprised; she had never seen him in so amiable a light before; this was all feeling, all affection for his brother--her dear--dear Charles. And when Mrs. Tracy heard what Emily said of Julian's feeling heart, she became positively triumphant; not half so much at Charles's safety, and all that, as at Julian's burst of feeling.
She was quite right, after all; he was worthy to be her favourite, and she felt both flattered and obliged to him for fainting dead away.
”Yes--yes, my dear Miss Warren, depend upon it Julian has fine feelings, and a good heart.” And Emily began to condemn both Charles and herself for lack of charity, and to think so too.
CHAPTER XIV.
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