The neighbourhood all mourned Mr. Charlecote as a personal loss, and could hardly help regarding any successor as their enemy. Miss Charlecote had been just enough known in her girlish days not to make her popular in a commonplace neighbourhood; the ladies had criticised her hair and her genius, and the gentlemen had been puzzled by her searching questions into their county antiquities, and obliged to own themselves unaware of a Roman milestone propping their bailiffs pigstye, or of the spur of a champion of one of the Roses being hung over their family pew. But when Mr. Henderson and the Raymonds reported pleasantly of her, and when once or twice she had been seen cantering down the lanes, or shopping in Elverslope, and had exchanged a bow with a familiar face, the gentlemen took to declaring that the heiress was an uncommonly fine woman after all, and the ladies became possessed with the perception that it was high time to call upon Miss Charlecotewhat could she be doing with those two children?
So there were calls, which Honor duly returned, and then came invitations, but to Miss Wellss great annoyance, Honor decided against these. It was not self-denial, but she thought it suitable. She did not love the round of county gaieties, and in her position she did not think them a duty. Retirement seemed to befit the widowhood, which she felt so entirely that when Miss Wells once drove her into disclaiming all possibility of marrying, she called it marrying again. When Miss Wells urged the inexpedience of absolute seclusion, she said she would continue to make morning calls, and she hoped in time to have friends of her own to stay with her; she might ask the Raymonds, or some of the quiet, clerical families (the real élite, be it observed) to spend a day or drink tea, but the dinner and ball life was too utterly incongruous for an elderly heiress. When it came to the elderly heiress poor Miss Wells was always shut up in utter despairshe who thought her bright-locked darling only grew handsomer each day of her pride of womanhood.
The brass which Honora had chosen for her cousins memorial was slow in being executed, and summer days had come in before it was sent to Hiltonbury. She walked down, a good deal agitated, to ascertain whether it were being rightly managed, but, to her great annoyance, found that the church having been left open, so many idle people were standing about that she could not bear to mingle with them. Had it been only the Holt vassalage, either their feeling would have been one with her own, or they would have made way for her, but there were some pert nursery maids gaping about with the children from Beauchamp, whence the heads of the family had been absent all the winter and spring, leaving various nurses and governesses in charge. Honora could not encounter their eyes, and went to the vicarage to send Mr. Henderson, and finding him absent, walked over sundry fields in a vain search for Brooks. Rain came on so violently as to wet her considerably, and to her exceeding mortification, she was obliged to relinquish her superintendence, either in person or by deputy.
However, when she awoke early and saw the sun laughing through the shining drops, she decided on going down ere the curious world was astir, to see what had been done. It was not far from six, when she let herself out at the porch, and very like a morning with Humfrey, with the tremulous glistening of every spray, and the steamy fragrance rising wherever the sun touched the grass, that seemed almost to grow visibly. The woods were ringing with the song of birds, circle beyond circle, and there was something in the exuberant merriment of those blackbirds and thrushes that would not let her be sad, though they had been Humfreys special glory. The thought of such pleasures did not seem out of keeping. The lane was overhung with bushes; the banks, a whole wealth of ferns, climbing plants, tall grasses, and nettles, had not yet felt the sun and were dank and dreary, so she hurried on, and arriving at the clerks door, knocked and opened. He was gone to his work, and sounds above showed the wife to be engaged on the toilette of the younger branches. She called out that she had come for the keys of the church, and seeing them on the dresser, abstracted them, bidding the good woman give herself no trouble.
She paused under the porch, and ere fitting the heavy key to the lock, felt that strange pressure and emotion of the heart that even if it be sorrow is also an exquisite sensation. If it were mournful that the one last office she could render to Humfrey was over, it was precious to her to be the only one who had a right to pay it, the one whom he had loved best upon earth, round whom she liked to believe that he still might be often hoveringwhom he might welcome by and by. Here was the place for communion with him, the spot which had, indeed, been to him none other than the gate of Heaven.
Yet, will it be believed? Not one look did Honora cast at Humfrey Charlecotes monument that morning.
With both hands she turned the reluctant bolts of the lock, and pushed open the nail-studded door. She slowly advanced along the uneven floor of the aisle, and had just reached the chancel arch, when something suddenly stirred, making her start violently. It was still, and after a pause she again advanced, but her heart gave a sudden throb, and a strange chill of awe rushed over her as she beheld a little white face over the altar rail, the chin resting on a pair of folded hands, the dark eyes fixed in a strange, dreamy, spiritual expression of awe.
The shock was but for a moment, the next the blood rallied to her heart, and she told herself that Humfrey would say, that either the state of her spirits had produced an illusion, or else that some child had been left here by accident. She advanced, but as she did so the two hands were stretched out and locked together as in an agony, and the childish, feeble voice cried out, Oh! if youre an angel, please dont frighten me; Ill be very good.
Honora was in a pale, soft, gray dress, that caught the light in a rosy glow from the east window, and her golden hair was hanging in radiant masses beneath her straw bonnet, but she could not appreciate the angelic impression she made on the child, who had been tried so long by such a captivity. My poor child, she said, I am no angel; I am only Miss Charlecote. Im afraid you have been shut up here; and, coming nearer, she perceived that it was a boy of about seven years old, well dressed, though his garments were disordered. He stood up as she came near, but he was trembling all over, and as she drew him into her bosom, and put her arms round him, she found him quivering with icy cold.
Poor little fellow, she said, rocking him, as she sat on the step and folded her shawl round him, have you been here all night? How cold you are; I must take you home, my dear. What is your name?
Im Robert Mervyn Fulmort, said the little boy, clinging to her. We came in to see Mr. Charlecotes monument put up, and I suppose they forgot me. I waked up, and everybody was gone, and the door was locked. Oh! please, he gasped, take me out. I dont want to cry.
She thought it best to take him at once into the cheerful sunlight, but it did not yet yield the warmth that he needed; and all her soothing words could not check the nervous tremor, though he held her so tight that it seemed as if he would never let her go.
You shall come home with me, my dear little boy; you shall have some breakfast, and then I will take you safe home to Beauchamp.
Oh, if you please! said the boy, gratefully.
Exercise was thawing his numbed limbs, and his eyes brightened.
Poor little fellow, she said, rocking him, as she sat on the step and folded her shawl round him, have you been here all night? How cold you are; I must take you home, my dear. What is your name?
Im Robert Mervyn Fulmort, said the little boy, clinging to her. We came in to see Mr. Charlecotes monument put up, and I suppose they forgot me. I waked up, and everybody was gone, and the door was locked. Oh! please, he gasped, take me out. I dont want to cry.
She thought it best to take him at once into the cheerful sunlight, but it did not yet yield the warmth that he needed; and all her soothing words could not check the nervous tremor, though he held her so tight that it seemed as if he would never let her go.
You shall come home with me, my dear little boy; you shall have some breakfast, and then I will take you safe home to Beauchamp.
Oh, if you please! said the boy, gratefully.
Exercise was thawing his numbed limbs, and his eyes brightened.
Whom were you with? she asked. Who could have forgotten you?
I came with Lieschen and nurse and the babies. The others went out with Mademoiselle.
And you went to sleep?
Yes; I liked to see the mason go chip, chip, and I wanted to see them fit the thing in. I got into that great pew, to see better; and I made myself a nest, but at last they were all gone.
And what did you do, then? Were you afraid?
I didnt know what to do. I ran all about to see if I could look out at a window, but I couldnt.
Did you try to call?
Wouldnt it have been naughty? said the boy; and then with an impulse of honest truthfulness, I did try once; but do you know, there was another voice came back again, and I thought that die Geistern wachten sich auf.
The what?
Die Geistern das Lieschen sagt in die Gewolben wohnen, said little Robert, evidently quite unconscious whether he spoke German or English.
So you could not call for the echo. Well, did you not think of the bells?
Yes; but, oh! the door was shut; and then, Ill tell youbut dont tell MervynI did cry.
Indeed, I dont wonder. It must have been very lonely.
I didnt like it, said Robert, shivering; and getting to his German again, he described das Gewitter beating on the panes, with wind and whirling leaves, and the unearthly noises of the creaking vane. The terror of the lonely, supperless child was dreadful to think of; and she begged to know what he could have done as it grew dark.
I got to Mr. Charlecote, said Robertan answer that thrilled her all over. I said Id be always very good, if he would take care of me, and not let them frighten me. And so I did go to sleep.
Im sure Mr. Charlecote would, my dear little man, began Honora, then checked by remembering what he would have said. But didnt you think of One more sure to take care of you than Mr. Charlecote?
Lieschen talks of der Lieber Gott, said the little boy. We said our prayers in the nursery, but Mervyn says only babies do.
Mervyn is terribly wrong, then, said Honora, shuddering. Oh! Robert, Mr. Charlecote never got up nor went to bed without asking the good God to take care of him, and make him good.
Was that why he was so good? asked Robert.
Indeed it was, said she, fervently; nobody can be good without it. I hope my little friend will never miss his prayers again, for they are the only way to be manly and afraid of nothing but doing wrong, as he was.
I wont miss them, said Robert, eagerly; then, with a sudden, puzzled lookDid he send you?
Who?
Mr. Charlecote.
Whyhow should . . . ? What made you think so?
Iwhy, once in the night I woke up; and oh! it was so dark, and there were such noises, such rattlings and roarings; and then it came all whitewhite lightall the window-bars and all so plain upon the wall; and then camebending, bending overa great gray darknessoh! so horrible!and went away, and came back.
The shadow of the trees, swaying in the moonlight.
Was it? I thought it was the Nebel Wittwen neckten mir, and then the Erlkonung-tochter. Wissen sieand oh! I did scream once; and then, somehow, it grew quietly darker; and I thought Mr. Charlecote had me folded up so warm on his horses back, and that we rode ever so far; and they stretched out their long white arms, and could not get me; but somehow he set me down on a cold stone, and said, Wait here, Robin, and Ill send her to lead you. And then came a creaking, and there were you.
Well, little Robin, he did not quite send me; but it was to see his tablet that I came down this morning; so he brought me after all. He was my very dear Cousin Humfrey, and I like you for having been his little friend. Will you be mine, too, and let me help you, if I can? and if your papa and mamma give leave, come and see me, and play with the little girl and boy who live with me?
Oh, yes! cried Robert; I like you.
The alliance was sealed with a hearty kiss.
But, said Robert, you must ask Mademoiselle; papa and mamma are away!
And how was it no one ever missed you?
Robert was far less surprised at this than she was; for, like all children, to be left behind appeared to him a contingency rather probable than otherwise.
He was a fine-looking boy, with dark gray, thoughtful eyes, and a pleasant countenance; but his nerves had been so much shaken that he started, and seemed ready to catch hold of her at every sound.
Whats that? he cried, as a trampling came along the alley as they entered the garden.
Only my two little cousins, said Honora, smiling. I hope you will be good friends, though perhaps Owen is too young a playfellow. Here, Lucy, Owenhere is a little friend for youRobert Fulmort.
The children came eagerly up, and Lucilla, taking her hand, raised her face to kiss the stranger; but Robert did not approve of the proceeding, and held up his head. Lucilla rose on tiptoe; Robin did the same. As he had the advantage of a whole years height, he fully succeeded in keeping out of her reach; and very comical was the effect. She gave it up at last, and contented herself with asking, And where do you come from?
Out of the church, was Robins reply.
Then you are very good and holy, indeed, said Owen, looking at him earnestly, with clasped hands.
No! said Robert, gruffly.
Poor little man! he was left behind, and shut up in the church all night, without any supper, said Honora.
Shut up in the church like Goody Two-shoes! cried Lucilla dancing about. Oh, what fun!
Did the angels come and sing to you? asked Owen.
Dont ask such stupid questions, cried his sister. Oh, I know what Id have done! Didnt you get up into the pulpit?
No!
And I do so want to know if the lady and gentleman on the monument have their ruffs the same on the inside, towards the wall, as outside; and, oh! I do so want to get all the dust out of the folds of the ladys ruff: I wish theyd lock me into the church, and Id soon get out when I was tired.
Lucilla and Owen decidedly thought Robin had not profited by his opportunities, but he figured better in an examination on his brothers and sisters. There were seven, of whom he was the fourthAugusta, Juliana, and Mervyn being his elders; Phœbe, Maria, and Bertha, his juniors. The three seniors were under the rule of Mademoiselle, the little ones under that of nurse and Lieschen, and Robert stood on neutral ground, doing lessons with Mademoiselle, whom, he said, in unpicked language which astounded little Owen, he morally hated, and at the same time free of the nursery, where, it appeared, that Phœbe was the jolliest little fellow in the world, and Lieschen was the only good-natured body going, and knew no end of Mährchen. The boy spoke a very odd mixture of Lieschens German and of English, pervaded by stable slang, and was altogether a curious study of the effects of absentee parents; nevertheless Honora and Lucilla both took a considerable fancy to him, the latter patronizing him to such a degree that she hardly allowed him to eat the much-needed breakfast, which recalled colour to his cheek and substance to his voice.