The Captain, closely attended by Gillie, moved slowly through the room, looking anxiously for Fred Leven. For some time they failed to find him. At last a loud curse, uttered in the midst of a knot of on-lookers, attracted their attention. It was followed by a general laugh, as a young man, whose dishevelled hair and flushed face showed that he had been drinking hard, burst from among them and staggered towards the door.
Never mind, Fred, shouted a voice that seemed familiar to the Captain, youll win it back from me next time.
Ere the youth had passed, the Captain stepped forward and laid his hand on his arm.
Fred uttered a savage growl, and drew back his clenched hand as if to strike, but Captain Woppers size and calm look of decision induced him to hold his hand.
What dyou mean by interrupting me? he demanded, sternly.
My lad, said the Captain, in a low, solemn voice, your mother is dying, come with me. Youve no time to lose.
The youths face turned ashy pale, and he passed his hand hastily across his brow.
Whats wrong? exclaimed Lewis Stoutley, who had recognised the Captain, and come forward at the moment.
Did he lose his money to you? asked the Captain, abruptly.
Well, yes, he did, retorted Lewis, with a look of offended dignity.
Come along, then, my lad. I want you too. Its a case of life an death. Ask no questions, but come along.
The Captain said this with such an air of authority, that Lewis felt constrained to obey. Fred Leven seemed to follow like one in a dream. They all got into a cab, and were driven back to Grubbs Court.
As they ascended the stair, the Captain whispered to Lewis, Keep in the background, my lad. Do nothing but look and listen.
Another moment and they were in the passage, where Lawrence stopped them.
Youre almost too late, sir, he said to Fred, sternly. If you had fed and clothed your mother better in time past, she might have got over this. Fortunately for her, poor soul, some people, who dont gamble away their own and their parents means, have given her the help that you have refused. Go in, sir, and try to speak words of comfort to her now.
He went in, and fell on his knees beside the bed.
Mother! he said.
Fain would he have said more, but no word could he utter. His tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth. Mrs Leven opened her eyes on hearing the single word, and her cheek flushed slightly as she seized one of his hands, kissed it and held it to her breast. Then she looked earnestly, and oh! so anxiously, into his face, and said in a low tone:
Fred, dear, are you so
She stopped abruptly.
Yes, yes, cried her son, passionately; yes, mother, Im sober now! Oh mother, dearest, darling mother, I am guilty, guilty; I have sinned. Oh forgive, forgive me! Listen, listen! I am in earnest now, my mother. Think of me as I used to be long ago. Dont shut your eyes. Look at me, mother, look at Fred.
The poor woman looked at him with tears of gladness in her eyes.
God bless you, Fred! she murmured. It is long, long, since you spoke like that. But I knew you would. I have always expected that you would. Praise the Lord!
Fred tried to speak, and again found that he could not, but the fountain of his soul was opened. He laid his face on his mothers hand and sobbed bitterly.
Those who witnessed this scene stood as if spellbound. As far as sound or motion went these two might have been in the room alone. Presently the sound of sobbing ceased, and Fred, raising his head, began gently to stroke the hand he held in his. Sometime in his wild career, he knew not when or where, he had heard it said that this slight action had often a wonderful power to soothe the sick. He continued it for some time. Then the doctor advanced and gazed into the invalids countenance.
She sleeps, he said, in a low tone.
May I stay beside her? whispered Fred.
Lawrence nodded assent, and then motioning to the others to withdraw, followed them into Mrs Robys room, where he told them that her sleeping was a good sign, and that they must do their best to prevent her being disturbed.
It wont be necessary for any one to watch. Her son will prove her best attendant just now; but it may be as well that some one should sit up in this room, and look in now and then to see that the candle doesnt burn out, and that all is right. I will go now, and will make this my first visit in the morning.
Captain Wopper, said Lewis Stoutley, in a subdued voice, when Lawrence had left, I won this ten-pound note to-night from Fred. II robbed him of it. Will you give it to him in the morning?
Yes, my lad, I will, said the Captain.
And will you let me sit up and watch here tonight?
No, my lad, I wont. I mean to do that myself.
But do let me stay an hour or so with you, in case anything is wanted, pleaded Lewis.
Well, you may.
They sat down together by the fireside, Mrs Roby having lain down on her bed with her clothes on, but they spoke never a word; and as they sat there, the young mans busy brain arrayed before him many and many a scene of death, and sickness, and suffering, and sorrow, and madness, and despair, which, he knew well from hearsay (and he now believed it), had been the terrible result of gambling and drink.
When the hour was past, the Captain rose and said, Now, Lewis, youll go, and Ill take a look at the next room.
He put off his shoes and went on tiptoe. Lewis followed, and took a peep before parting.
Fred had drawn three chairs to the bedside and lain down on them, with his shoulders resting on the edge of the bed, so that he could continue to stroke his mothers hand without disturbing her. He had continued doing so until his head had slowly drooped upon the pillow; and there they now lay, the dissipated son and the humble Christian mother, sleeping quietly together.
Chapter Seven.
The Great White Mountain
We are in Switzerland now; in the land of the mountain and the floodthe land also of perennial ice and snow. The solemn presence of the Great White Mountain is beginning to be felt. Its pure summit was first seen from Geneva; its shadow is now beginning to steal over us.
We are on the road to Chamouni, not yet over the frontier, in a carriage and four. Mrs Stoutley, being a lady of unbounded wealth, always travels post in a carriage and four when she can manage to do so, having an unconquerable antipathy to railroads and steamers. She could not well travel in any other fashion here, railways not having yet penetrated the mountain regions in this direction, and a mode of ascending roaring mountain torrents in steamboats not having yet been discovered. She might, however, travel with two horses, but she prefers four. Captain Wopper, who sits opposite Emma Gray, wonders in a quiet speculative way whether the Mines will produce a dividend sufficient to pay the expenses of this journey. He is quite disinterested in the thought, it being understood that the Captain pays his own expenses.
But we wander from our text, which isthe Great White Mountain. We are driving now under its shadow with Mrs Stoutleys party, which, in addition to the Captain and Miss Gray, already mentioned, includes young Dr George Lawrence and Lewis, who are on horseback; also Mrs Stoutleys maid (Mrs Stoutley never travels without a maid), Susan Quick, who sits beside the Captain; and Gillie White, alias the Spider and the Imp, who sits beside the driver, making earnest but futile efforts to draw him into a conversation in English, of which language the driver knows next to nothing.
But to return: Mrs Stoutley and party are now in the very heart of scenery the most magnificent; they have penetrated to a great fountain-head of European waters; they are surrounded by the cliffs, the gorges, the moraines, and are not far from the snow-slopes and ice-fields, the couloirs, the seracs, the crevasses, and the ice-precipices and pinnacles of a great glacial world; but not one of the party betrays the smallest amount of interest, or expresses the faintest emotion of surprise, owing to the melancholy fact that all is shrouded in an impenetrable veil of mist through which a thick fine rain percolates as if the mountain monarch himself were bewailing their misfortunes.
Isnt it provoking? murmured Mrs Stoutley drawing her shawl closer.
Very, replied Emma.
Disgusting! exclaimed Lewis, who rode at the side of the carriage next his cousin.
It might be worse, said Lawrence, with a grim smile.
Impossible, retorted Lewis.
Come, Captain, have you no remark to make by way of inspiring a little hope? asked Mrs Stoutley.
Why, never havin cruised in this region before, answered the Captain, my remarks cant be of much value. Howsever, there is one idea that may be said to afford consolation, namely, that this sort o thing cant last. Ive sailed pretty nigh in all parts of the globe, an Ive invariably found that bad weather has its limitsthat after rain we may look for sunshine, and after storm, calm.
How cheering! said Lewis, as the rain trickled from the point of his prominent nose.
At that moment Gillie White, happening to cast his eyes upward, beheld a vision which drew from him an exclamation of wild surprise.
They all looked quickly in the same direction, and there, through a rent in the watery veil, they beheld a little spot of blue sky, rising into which was a mountain-top so pure, so faint so high and inexpressibly far off, yet so brilliant in a glow of sunshine, that it seemed as if heaven had been opened, and one of the hills of Paradise revealed. It was the first near view that the travellers had obtained of these mountains of everlasting ice. With the exception of the exclamations Wonderful! Most glorious! they found no words for a time to express their feelings, and seemed glad to escape the necessity of doing so by listening to the remarks of their driver, as he went into an elaborate explanation of the name and locality of the particular part of Mont Blanc that had been thus disclosed.
The rent in the mist closed almost as quickly as it had opened, utterly concealing the beautiful vision; but the impression it had made, being a first and a very deep one, could never more be removed. The travellers lived now in the faith of what they had seen. Scepticism was no longer possible, and in this improved frame of mind they dashed into the village of Chamounione of the haunts of those whose war-cry is Excelsior!and drove to the best hotel.
Their arrival in the village was an unexpected point of interest to many would-be mountaineers, who lounged about the place with macintoshes and umbrellas, growling at the weather. Any event out of the common forms a subject of interest to men who wait and have nothing to do. As the party passed them, growlers gazed and speculated as to who the new-comers might be. Some thought Miss Gray pretty; some thought otherwiseto agree on any point on such a day being, of course, impossible. Others guessed that the young fellows must be uncommonly fond of riding to get on the outside of a horse in such weather; some remarked that the elderly female seemed used up, or blasée, and all agreedyes, they did agree on this pointthat the thing in blue tights and buttons beside the driver was the most impudent-looking monkey the world had ever produced!
The natives of the place also had their opinions, and expressed them to each other; especially the bronzed, stalwart sedate-looking men who hung about in knots near the centre of the village, and seemed to estimate the probability of the stout young Englishmen on horseback being likely to require their services oftenfor these, said the driver, were the celebrated guides of Chamouni; men of bone and muscle, and endurance and courage; the leaders of those daring spirits who considerand justly sothe ascent to the summit of Mont Blanc, or Monte Rosa, or the Matterhorn, a feat; the men who perform this feat it may be, two or three times a weekas often as you choose to call them to it, in factand think nothing of it; the men whose profession it is to risk their lives every summer from day to day for a few francs; who have become so inured to danger that they have grown quite familiar with it, insomuch that some of the reckless blades among them treat it now and then with contempt, and pay the penalty of such conduct with their lives.
Sinking into a couch in her private sitting-room, Mrs Stoutley resigned herself to Susans care, and, while she was having her boots taken off, said with a sigh:
Well, here we are at last. What do you think of Chamouni, Susan?
Rather a wet place, maam; aint it?
With a languid smile, Mrs Stoutley admitted that it was, but added, by way of encouragement that it was not always so. To which Susan replied that she was glad to hear it, so she was, as nothink depressed her spirits so much as wet and clouds, and gloom.
Susan was a pretty girl of sixteen, tall, as well as very sedate and womanly, for her age. Having been born in one of the midland counties, of poor, though remarkably honest, parents, who had received no education themselves, and therefore held it to be quite unnecessary to bestow anything so useless on their daughter, she was, until very recently, as ignorant of all beyond the circle of her fathers homestead as the daughter of the man in the moonsupposing no compulsory education-act to be in operation in the orb of night. Having passed through them, she now knew of the existence of France and Switzerland, but she was quite in the dark as to the position of these two countries with respect to the rest of the world, and would probably have regarded them as one and the same if their boundary-line had not been somewhat deeply impressed upon her by the ungallant manner in which the Customs officials examined the contents of her modest little portmanteau in search, as Gillie gave her to understand, of tobacco.
Mrs Stoutley had particularly small feet, a circumstance which might have induced her, more than other ladies, to wear easy boots; but owing to some unaccountable perversity of mental constitution, she deemed this a good reason for having her boots made unusually tight. The removal of these, therefore, afforded great relief, and the administration of a cup of tea produced a cheering reaction of spirits, under the influence of which she partially forgot herself, and resolved to devote a few minutes to the instruction of her interestingly ignorant maid.
Yes, she said, arranging herself comfortably, and sipping her tea, while Susan busied herself putting away her ladys things, and otherwise tidying the room, it does not always rain here; there is a little sunshine sometimes. By the way, where is Miss Gray?
In the bedroom, maam, unpacking the trunks.
Ah, well, as I was saying, they have a little sunshine sometimes, for you know, Susan, people must live, and grass or grain cannot grow without sunshine, so it has been arranged that there should be enough here for these purposes, but no more than enough, because Switzerland has to maintain its character as one of the great refrigerators of Europe.