A Daughter of Bohemia, Chapter XXXII [pp. 326-329]

326
A 1)A UGffTFR OF B OffE~iA. [MARCH 14,
pefied with the cold; it begins to be like a
dream, not a real misery happening to myself; I forget even to think about my mother.
Here is Captain Brand, at last. In an instant he has lifted me up, and is carrying me
like a baby in his strong arms. Oh, what a
shelter they feel to me!
He says) "Don't cling to me." I cannot see any thing, and I feel him loose his
hold, and I fall, but I am not hurt. I am
safe in the boat, and Mr. Stacey is holding
me.
"Where is he?" I say. I cannot see
Captain Brand; and then he leaps down into
the boat, and in an instant we have got away
from the side of the ship, for the men are
rowing desperately; some of them are lying
in the bottom of the boat; my mother is between me and Mr. Howard, and I see all this
in a strange, unrealizing way, and then I
speak to my mother.
I am close beside her, but Captain Brand
has wrapped a cloak round her, which hides
her face.
"Mother!" She does not answer, and I
feel for her hand. I want her to know that
we are close together, though we are cast
adrift on that vast, cruel-looking sea.
Her hand feels icy cold.
"Mother, mother, speak to me!" My
own voice startled me, there is so sharp a
ring of anguish in it. I tear away the cloak
f~om her face. Ah, there is no mistaking
the pinched outline, the awful grayness,
stamped there. But I must master Death
myself; she shall not leave me!
"Doctor! Dr. Maxse!"
I looked round wildly. No one answers;
and then I see that Dr. Maxse is nut among us.
Captain Brand has gone to the helm. Mr.
Howard and Mr. Stacey came at my cry, and
tried their utmost to revive my mother; but
very soon Mr. Stacey gives up his efforts, and
goes to Captain Brand, and takes his place at
the helm. I seem to feel that Captain Brand
will revive her. He bends over her, and then
he lays his hand on her heart.
Oh, the anguish I learn from his face!
He draws the cloak quickly round her, and
lays her gently down in the boat. I clasp
his hand in both mine, and try to speak, but
I cannot-I read the truth in his face.
Never till I die will this awful picture
leave my memory; even now I can hardly
write about it; but storm-clouds, still heavy,
hung on the horizon, and a broad glare of
sunlight glittering over the measureless space
of heaving sea, glittering on the sinking ship
now far away, and on ourselves, Mr. Howard
and the girl I have spoken of crouching in
utter misery; the sailors, with their brown,
sad, downcast faces, rowing with all their
might, some few lying exhausted at the hottom of the great boat; and Captain Brand
looking at me with a great sorrow on his face.
This is all I can remember distinctly. Every
thing grows confused, and I lose consciousness.
I seemed to rouse from sleep; I opened
my eyes, to find that I was being lifted up,
and carried, it seemed to me, a long way upstairs. and then I was laid down gently on a
bed, and I fell asleep again.
A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA.*
A iYOVEL
Bv CHRISTIAN REID.
CHAPTER XXMI
"Most learned judge! —A sentence come, prepare."
NoTWITHsTANDING Mr. Colville's anxiety
for haste, it was not until the n~xt morning
that a constable arrived at Strafford with a
warrant of arrest for Captain Tyndale. His appearance fell like a thunder-bolt on the assembled party. To chronicle all the disjointed
exclamations, and all the Babel of discussion
which ensued, would be to try the patience
of the most long-suffering reader, and would,
moreover, serve no purpose in advancing the
history of events. Max himself, after the
first shock, was perhaps (with the exception
of Mi-. Colville, and one or two of his most
intimate subjects), the person least taken by
surprise. Not that he had definitely expected
such a result as this, but he had beeiPso
thoroughly conscious all the day before of the
false position in which his reticence was
placing him, that instinct may be said to have
warned him of its consequences. Public sentiment, generally, was one of disapproving
surprise. It was an underhanded piece of
business, men said, who, whatever their other
faults, believed in, and, as a rule, stood up for,
fair play. Only two or three of Mr. Colville's
immediate friends were found to support the
measure. "Wait until you hear the evidence
against him! "they said, nodding sagely.
As for Mr. Middleton, he was overcome
with indignation when he heard the news.
He blamed himself severely that he had not
warned Max of the story which Giles had
brought to him. "I ought to have done that
at once!" he thought, as he went in search
of the young man.
H~found him in his own room, dressing,
having lain down to snatch a little sleep in
the latter part of the night, and having been
ruthlessly waked on the appearance of the
constable and the warrant. If he bad lost
his composure in the first shock, be had]by
this time regained it, for he turned to Mr.
Middleton with a coolness which excited that
gentleman's surprise and admiration-though
an under-current of emotion seemed vibrating
through his voice when he spoke.
"I suppose you have heard what has happened," he said. "What do you think of
it?"
"I think that I am more sorry than I can
say that I did not warn you yesterday that
your cousin's servant came to me with a story
which I suppose he has since carried to more
credulous or malicious ears, and of which this
is the result," Mr. Middleton answered. "I
take it for granted that you know what I
mean. Something about a difficulty between
Arthur and yourself."
"Giles!" said Max, starting. A flash of
light seemed to come to him. "So it was
Giles, was it? I did not think of that. And
you say he came to you with the story?"
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"He came to me yesterday afternoon,`iDd,
when he found that I paid no attention to it,
he went-so I judge from what I hear downstairs-to Colville. You know Colville. You
won't be surprised to learn that Ae is at the
bottom of the whole affair."
"No, I am not surprised," said Max; but
he stood for a minute apparently lost in
thought. "I mean I am not surprised that
Mr. Colville, who seems to dislike me, should
be ready to believe any report to my discredit," he added, after a while; "but how he
or any one else could think Ihw-"
"Colville dislikes every one who does not
belong to him body and soul," said Mr. Middieton, dryly; "but you need not go far to
find a reason why he dislikes you particularly,
or why he is ready enough to credit even thisyou are the heir-at-law of the Tyndale estate."
"Good God!" said Max, with uncontrollable agitation, "but that makes it all the
more terrible. How can any man believe
that I-the heir-at-law, as you say-could
have laid violent hands on Arthur; that I
could have left him dead and come back to
sleep under his roof; that I could- Great
Heaven! is it for ilte~ they suspect me of
murde~ng him?" demanded he, turning upon
Mr. Middleton, with passion and horror mingled in his face.
"It is very likely they have not stopped
to think about it at all," answered the other.
"A sort of frenzy seizes people at such times,
you know; a fever of suspicion and doubt.
Colville is a sort of moral bull-dog, moreover,
and there is no more use in appealing to his
sense of reason than there would be in appealing to a deaf man's ears, or a blind man's
sigl~t. The magistrate who issued this warrant-P~rcell, of Wexford-is a blockhead
also, and very much under his thumb. You can
scarcely appreciate the nature of the charge
better than I do," he went on quickly; "but,
surely it will not cost you much trouble to
prove the groundless folly-I may say the infamous outrage-of it!"
"I cannot tell," said Max. "It ought to
be easy; but with such men as you deseribe,
who knows? One or two points may tell
against me." He drew on his coat as he
spoke, then paused a moment; his bronzed
face grew paler than it had been before, his
eyes were cast down, his hand went as usual
to the long ends of his mustache. "Who
knows?" he repeated. "There are one or
two things which it is impossible to explain
-the cause of the dispute between Arthur
and myself, for instance."
"Was it a serious dispute?" asked Mr.
Middleton, anxiously. "You will excuse the
question, but I should like to know."
He was interrupted by a tap at the door.
"Ecady, sir?" asked the constable's voice
on the outside.
"Yes, I am ready," answered Max.-" I
hope I shall be able to clear myself," he said,
turning to Mr. Middleton; "but, if not —"
"I am going along to stand by you in any
emergency, interrupted that genileman. "I
ordered the dog-cart when I came up, and
we'll drive over, settle that insolent English
rascal, and bring Purcell to his senses, before
breakfast."
"You are very kind," said Max, grate