There would be a worthy ambition! said Etheldred, as they turned their steps homeward. Let us propose that aim to ourselves, to build a church on Cocksmoor!
How many years do you give us to do it in? said Norman.
Few or many, I dont care. Ill never leave off thinking about it till it is done.
It need not be long, said Flora, if one could get up a subscription.
A penny subscription? said Norman. Id rather have it my own doing.
You agree then, said Ethel; do you, Mr. Ernescliffe?
I may safely do so, he answered, smiling. Miss Winter looked at Etheldred reprovingly, and she shrank into herself, drew apart, and indulged in a reverie. She had heard in books of girls writing poetry, romance, historygaining fifties and hundreds. Could not some of the myriads of fancies floating in her mind thus be made available? She would compose, publish, earn moneysome day call papa, show him her hoard, beg him to take it, and, never owning whence it came, raise the building. Spire and chancel, pinnacle and buttress, rose before her eyes, and she and Norman were standing in the porch with an orderly, religious population, blessing the unknown benefactor, who had caused the news of salvation to be heard among them.
They were almost at home, when the sight of a crowd in the main street checked them. Norman and Mr. Ernescliffe went forward to discover the cause, and spoke to some one on the outskirtsthen Mr. Ernescliffe hurried back to the ladies.
Theres been an accident, he said hastilyyou had better go down the lane and in by the garden.
He was gone in an instant, and they obeyed in silence. Whence came Ethels certainty that the accident concerned themselves? In an agony of apprehension, though without one outward sign of it, she walked home. They were in the gardenall was apparently as usual, but no one was in sight. Ethel had been first, but she held back, and let Miss Winter go forward into the house. The front door was openservants were standing about in confusion, and one of the maids, looking dreadfully frightened, gave a cry, Oh! MissMisshave you heard?
Nowhat? What has happened? Not Mrs. May exclaimed Miss Winter.
Oh, maam! it is all of them. The carriage is overturned, and
Whos hurt? Mamma! papa! Oh, tell me! cried Flora.
Theres nurse, and Ethel flew up to her. What is it? Oh, nurse!
My poor, poor children, said old nurse, passionately kissing Ethel. Harry and Mary were on the stairs behind her, clinging together.
A stranger looked into the house, followed by Adams, the stableman. They are going to bring Miss May in, some one said.
Ethel could bear it no longer. As if she could escape, she fled upstairs into her room, and, falling on her knees, hid her face on her bed.
There were heavy steps in the house, then a sound of hasty feet coming up to her. Norman dashed into the room, and threw himself on a chair. He was ghastly pale, and shuddered all over.
Oh, Norman, Norman, speak! What is it? He groaned, but could not speak; he rested his head against her, and gasped. She was terribly frightened. Ill call and she would have gone, but he held her. Nonothey cant! He was prevented from saying more, by chattering teeth and deadly faintness. She tried to support him, but could only guide him as he sank, till he lay at full length on the floor, where she put a pillow under his head, and gave him some water. Is itoh, tell me! Are they much hurt? Oh, try to say!
They say Margaret is alive, said Norman, in gasps; butAnd papahe stood upsatwalkedwas better-
Is he hurtmuch hurt?
His arm and the tremor and fainting stopped him again.
Mamma? whispered Ethel; but Norman only pressed his face into the pillow.
She was so bewildered as to be more alive to the present distress of his condition than to the vague horrors downstairs. Some minutes passed in silence, Norman lying still, excepting a nervous trembling that agitated his whole frame. Again was heard the strange tread, doors opening and shutting, and suppressed voices, and he turned his face upwards, and listened with his hand pressed to his forehead, as if to keep himself still enough to listen.
Oh! what is the matter? What is it? cried Ethel, startled and recalled to the sense of what was passing.
Oh, Norman! Then springing up, with a sudden thought, Mr. Ward! Oh! is he there?
Yes, said Norman, in a low hopeless tone, he was at the place. He said it
What?
Again Normans face was out of sight.
Mamma? Ethels understanding perceived, but her mind refused to grasp the extent of the calamity. There was no answer, save a convulsive squeezing of her hand.
Fresh sounds below recalled her to speech and action.
Where is she? What are they doing for her? What
Theres nothing to be done. Shewhen they lifted her up, she was
Dead?
Dead.
The boy lay with his face hidden, the girl sat by him on the floor, too much crushed for even the sensations belonging to grief, neither moving nor looking. After an interval Norman spoke again, The carriage turned right overher head struck on the kerb stone
Did you see? said Ethel presently.
I saw them lift her up. He spoke at intervals, as he could get breath and bear to utter the words. And papahe was stunnedbut soon he sat up, said he would go to herhe looked at herfelt her pulse, and thensank down over her!
And did you sayI cant rememberwas he hurt?
The shuddering came again, His armall twistedbroken, and his voice sank into a faint whisper; Ethel was obliged to sprinkle him again with water. But he wont die? said she, in a tone calm from its bewilderment.
Oh! no, no, no
And Margaret?
They were bringing her home. Ill go and see. Oh! whats the meaning of this? exclaimed he, scolding himself, as, sitting up, he was forced to rest his head on his shaking hand.
You are still faint, dear Norman; you had better lie still, and Ill go and see.
Faintstuffhow horridly stupid! but he was obliged to lay his head down again; and Ethel, scarcely less trembling, crept carefully towards the stairs, but a dread of what she might meet came over her, and she turned towards the nursery.
The younger ones sat there in a frightened huddle. Mary was on a low chair by the infants cot, Blanche in her lap, Tom and Harry leaning against her, and Aubrey almost asleep. Mary held up her finger as Ethel entered, and whispered, Hush! dont wake baby for anything!
The first true pang of grief shot through Ethel like a dart, stabbing and taking away her breath, Where are they? she said; how is papa? who is with him?
Mr. Ward and Alan Ernescliffe, said Harry. Nurse came up just now, and said they were setting his arm.
Where is he?
On the bed in his dressing-room, said Harry.
Has he come to himselfis he better?
They did not seem to know, and Ethel asked where to find Flora. With Margaret, she was told, and she was thinking whether she could venture to seek her, when she herself came fast up the stairs. Ethel and Harry both darted out. Dont stop me, said Florathey want some handkerchiefs.
What, is not she in her own room?
No, said Harry, in mammas; and then his face quivered all over, and he turned away. Ethel ran after her sister, and pulling out drawers without knowing what she sought, begged to hear how papa and Margaret were.
We cant judge of Margaretshe has moved, and made a little moaningthere are no limbs broken, but we are afraid for her head. Oh! if papa could but
And papa?
Mr. Ward is with him nowhis arm is terribly hurt.
But oh! Floraone momentis he sensible?
Hardly; he does not take any noticebut dont keep me.
Can I do anything? following her to the head of the stairs.
No; I dont see what you can do. Miss Winter and I are with Margaret; theres nothing to do for her.
It was a relief. Etheldred shrank from what she might have to behold, and Flora hastened down, too busy and too useful to have time to think. Harry had gone back to his refuge in the nursery, and Ethel returned to Norman. There they remained for a long time, both unwilling to speak or stir, or even to observe to each other on the noises that came in to them, as their door was left ajar, though in those sounds they were so absorbed, that they did not notice the cold of a frosty October evening, or the darkness that closed in on them.
They heard the poor babe crying, one of the children going down to call nurse, and nurse coming up; then Harry, at the door of the room where the boys slept, calling Norman in a low voice. Norman, now nearly recovered, went and brought him into his sisters room, and his tidings were, that their fathers arm had been broken in two places, and the elbow frightfully injured, having been crushed and twisted by the wheel. He was also a good deal bruised, and though Mr. Ward trusted there was no positive harm to the head, he was in an unconscious state, from which the severe pain of the operation had only roused him, so far as to evince a few signs of suffering. Margaret was still insensible.
The piteous sound of the babys wailing almost broke their hearts. Norman walked about the room in the dark, and said he should go down, he could not bear it; but he could not make up his mind to go, and after about a quarter of an hour, to their great relief, it ceased.
Next Mary opened the door, saying, Norman, heres Mr. Wilmot come to ask if he can do anythingMiss Winter sent word that you had better go to him.
How is baby? asked Harry.
Nurse has fed her, and is putting her to bed; she is quiet now, said Mary; will you go down, Norman?
Where is he?
In the drawing-room.
Norman paused to ask what he was to say.
Nothing, said Mary, nobody can do anything. Make haste. Dont you want a candle?
No, thank you, I had rather be in the dark. Come up as soon as you have seen him, said Etheldred.
Norman went slowly down, with failing knees, hardly able to conquer the shudder that came over him, as he passed those rooms. There were voices in the drawing-room, and he found a sort of council there, Alan Ernescliffe, the surgeon, and Mr. Wilmot. They turned as he came in, and Mr. Wilmot held out his hand with a look of affection and kindness that went to his heart, making room for him on the sofa, while going on with what he was saying. Then you think it would be better for me not to sit up with him.
I should decidedly say so, replied Mr. Ward. He has recognised Mr. Ernescliffe, and any change might excite him, and lead him to ask questions. The moment of his full consciousness is especially to be dreaded.
But you do not call him insensible?
No, but he seems stunnedstupified by the shock, and by pain. He spoke to Miss Flora when she brought him some tea.
And admirably she managed, said Alan Ernescliffe. I was much afraid of some answer that would rouse him, but she kept her self-possession beautifully, and seemed to compose him in a moment.
She is valuable indeedso much judgment and activity, said Mr. Ward. I dont know what we should have done without her. But we ought to have Mr. Richardhas no one sent to him?
Alan Ernescliffe and Norman looked at each other.
Is he at Oxford, or at his tutors? asked Mr. Wilmot.
At Oxford; he was to be there to-day, was he not, Norman?
What oclock is it? Is the post gonesevenno; it is all safe, said Mr. Ward.
Poor Norman! he knew he was the one who ought to write, but his icy trembling hand seemed to shake more helplessly than ever, and a piteous glance fell upon Mr. Wilmot.
The best plan would be, said Mr. Wilmot, for me to go to him at once and bring him home. If I go by the mail-train, I shall get to him sooner than a letter could.
And it will be better for him, said Mr. Ward. He will feel it dreadfully, poor boy. But we shall all do better when we have him. You can get back to-morrow evening.
Sunday, said Mr. Wilmot, I believe there is a train at four.
Oh! thank you, sir, said Norman.
Since that is settled, perhaps I had better go up to the doctor, said Alan; I dont like leaving Flora alone with him, and he was gone.
How fortunate that that youth is here, said Mr. Wilmothe seems to be quite taking Richards place.
And to feel it as much, said Mr. Ward. He has been invaluable with his sailors resources and handiness.
Well, what shall I tell poor Richard? asked Mr. Wilmot.
Tell him there is no reason his father should not do very well, if we can keep him from agitationbut theres the point. He is of so excitable a constitution, that his faculties being so far confused is the best thing, perhaps, that could be. Mr. Ernescliffe manages him very wellused to illness on that African coast, and the doctor is very fond of him. As to Miss May, one cant tell what to say about her yettheres no fracture, at leastit must be a work of time to judge.
Flora at that moment half-opened the door, and called Mr. Ward, stopping for a moment to say it was for nothing of any consequence. Mr. Wilmot and Norman were left together. Norman put his hands over his face and groanedhis master looked at him with kind anxiety, but did not feel as if it were yet time to speak of consolation.
God bless and support you, and turn this to your good, my dear boy, said he affectionately, as he pressed his hand; I hope to bring your brother to-morrow.
Thank you, sir, was all Norman could say; and as Mr. Wilmot went out by the front door, he slowly went up again, and, lingering on the landing-place, was met by Mr. Ward, who told him to his relieffor the mere thinking of it renewed the faint sensationthat he had better not go to his fathers room.
There was nothing to be done but to return to Ethel and Harry, and tell them all; with some humiliation at being helpless, where Flora was doing so much, and to leave their father to be watched by a stranger. If he had been wanted, Norman might have made the effort, but being told that he would be worse than useless, there was nothing for him but to give way.
They sat together in Ethels room till somewhere between eight and nine oclock, when good old nurse, having put her younger ones to bed, came in search of them. Dear, dear! poor darlings, said she, as she found them sitting in the dark; she felt their cold hands, and made them all come into the nursery, where Mary was already, and, fondling them, one by one, as they passively obeyed her, she set them down on their little old stools round the fire, took away the high fender, and gave them each a cup of tea. Harry and Mary ate enough to satisfy her, from a weary craving feeling, and for want of employment; Norman sat with his elbow on his knee, and a very aching head resting on his hand, glad of drink, but unable to eat; Ethel could be persuaded to do neither, till she found old nurse would let her have no peace.