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CHAPTER XXVI.
THEEND.
MRS. DEBORAH'S letters contained a detailed account of the catastrophe.
"Wilson, who has been here since the fire, says that her lady was like a distracted woman when she missed her step-daughter and discovered that she was nowhere concealed in the house. No one could imagine how she had escaped, as there was no door left unfastened to Amabel's room. Even when they discovered the door of communication with the haunted room, they had no thought of her escaping in that way, as both it and that leading to the secret stairs were fastened on the other side and could hardly be broken open.
"The servants did not scruple to declare that their young lady had been spirited away, and they so threatened the French waiting-woman that she was glad to take refuge in her mistress' apartment. There had been a terrible scene between Lord Bulmer and Lady Leighton when it was at last made certain that Amabel was neither at Highbeck nor at the Little House. He accused Lady Leighton of playing him false and conniving at the young lady's escape, and she wept and declared her innocence and begged him to have pity on her; but he at last, flung away from her, leaving her grovelling on the ground, mounted his horse, and followed by his servants, rode away to Newcastle."
This was Wilson's account. How she gained her knowledge I don't know, but she was not likely to lack any which could be got by eavesdropping or peeping through key-holes.
"My lady was very ill for two or three days, and Wilson waited on her, the other woman not daring to come in the way of her fellow servants. At last Lady Leighton received a letter which seemed to calm her spirits a little, and she told Wilson in the evening to go to bed and leave her, as she felt like having a quiet night. At about two o'clock, Wilson was awakened by the smoke and heat, and hurrying down found her lady's room wrapped in flames. She searched it at the risk of her life, and at the expense of some terrible burns, but could find nothing of her mistress. The servants and such men as were left about the place worked like heroes, and Mr. Lethbridge specially distinguished himself by his coolness and daring, but a high wind was blowing and the flames defied all their efforts. The servants all escaped except the French
woman, who, like her mistress, could not be found. No bodies had been discovered, but the east wing had fallen in, and they might be buried under the ruins."
"I cannot help thinking there may be another solution of the matter," Mrs. Deborah wrote in a private note to me; "but I have never hinted at such a thing to my brother in the letters I have sent him, nor have I mentioned it to Wilson, who, poor creature, is about distracted with grief for her mistress, for whom she risked her life. She rushed into the building again and again, and Mr. Lethbridge hardly rescued her just before the walls fell in. The silver, the family paper-chest, and some few other things, were saved by Richard and the other men. A part of the west wing is all that is left of Highbeck."
There was no more talk of returning to Edinburgh. Sir Julius at once took horse for Northumberland, accompanied, at Amabel's own desire, by Mr. Cheriton. She was now out of all danger, and gaining every day. Sir Julius thought of nothing but that his wife had indeed perished, and no one was so cruel as to suggest any thing else to him, especially as, the ruins being explored, the charred remains of a skeleton were indeed found beneath them. Mr. Cheriton, who was not quite so certain, made inquiries of his own, but could learn nothing beyond the fact that Lord Bulmer had gone abroad, intending, it was said, to remain some years, and taking no one with him but a young French servant whom he had hired in London.
Sir Julius put his family into the deepest mourning, and buried this poor remains with every solemnity. Then, putting all his business into Mr. Thirlwall's hands, he also went over to Holland, thinking, I imagine, that he was best out of the way till the matter of his little journey north was forgotten.
Amabel recovered rapidly, and by the time the snowdrops were in blossom, she was able to return with her husband to Newcastle. They were very earnest to have me take up my abode with them, and I consented to make them a visit; though I had no mind it should be a very long one. I think young married people are best left to themselves to shake down together. But I could not refuse to help her settle in her new home.
We found every thing in the best of order—thanks to the old housekeeper and Mrs. Thorpe and the house was over-running with the gifts brought in by Mr. Cheriton's parishioners.
Mrs. Thorpe was the same, and yet not the same. There was an odd sort of consciousness and shyness about her, especially when she told me that she had thoughts of giving up her shop.
"You see I can live well enough without it," said she, "and I am tired of being at every one's beck and call."
"And have you met Father Brousseau lately?" asked Amabel. "You wrote us last winter that he had been to see you two or three times."
Mrs. Thorpe blushed like a young girl.
"Oh, yes. Have you not heard? He has a parish in London, among the French weavers, where he is doing a great deal of good."
"I am right glad to hear it," said Amabel. "He is an excellent man."
"Then, perhaps, you will not be sorry to hear that he—that I—in short, we are going to be married!" said Mrs. Thorpe, smiling, in the midst of her confusion, at our astonishment. "You see, he is such a babe in the woods in respect of English ways, and needs some one to care for him, and I thought I could do as much good in that way as any other. And I always did like the good gentleman ever since I took care of him when he was so seasick coming over on my brother's vessel."
I saw Amabel nicely settled in her new house, and then went back to Mrs. Deborah. I tried not to be selfish, but I must confess I felt rather forlorn. However, I knew there was no use in repining, and no sense in it either, seeing that my fate had been ordered by One wiser than myself, who knew just what was best for me.
So I set to work with all my might nursing Mrs. Deborah, who was growing very feeble and helpless from rheumatism, and attending to the poor folks and teaching in the school, whereby I got into some trouble with Mr. Lethbridge from teaching the children one of Mr. Charles Wesley's hymns. He forgave me afterward, however, and grew somewhat inconveniently friendly. However, he got over it, and married a very nice young lady
I helped Mary Lee prepare her wedding set out, and saw her married to Alick, who made her an excellent husband. I spun a great deal of fine thread, and made baby-linen for Amabel, whose first child was named for me. I was quite rich for the time and place. Sir Julius had directed Mr. Thirlwall to pay me the rents of the Black Lees, which was in the hands of an excellent tenant, and I asked no questions about the past profits which had gene into Sir Julius' pockets. Besides, I had a hundred a year from Mr. Carey.
I finished Mrs. Chloe's knitted quilt, and made one of silk patchwork for Amabel, which was much admired. I will not say that I was not somewhat sad and lonely at times, but generally I was content enough. Amabel was happy as a woman could well be in this world, with an excellent husband and lovely, healthy children, and I saw her two or three times a year
I knew that I was a great comfort to Mrs. Deborah in her lonely old age, and that I was useful in the village.
I staid several years with Mrs. Deborah, and laid her honored head in the grave beside Mrs. Chloe's.
Then, being over five and twenty, and my presence being needful in Exeter to settle certain business matters, I made the long journey thither, and staid with Mr. and Mrs. Carey several months, after which I came to my present home. It is a very neat and pretty old house, not large, but convenient and sunny, in a little valley or coombe opening to the sea.
After I had lived here a year, I put in practise a plan which had been brewing in my head for some time. I took into my family five or six orphan maidens, children of sailors, and with the help of an excellent worthy woman, I made a home for them; teaching them to read and write, to knit, spin, and sew, and giving them other learning suitable for their condition, preparing them either for service or for ruling families of their own. I never have more than six at one time, and though they have all sorts of dispositions among them, and are naughty and troublesome at times like all children, I have been very happy with them.
I have only one of my original flock left, and she is sister, child, and servant all in one. I fear that I shall soon lose her, for Simon Sablot, a fine young man of French protestant descent, and a ship's carpenter in good business, is looking after her, and I do not think she is at all averse to him.
Mr. Cheriton in course of time succeeded to the Carew estate and title, and came to live upon his lands. This was a great joy to me, as it brought Amabel once more within my reach. She often comes to see me, and I have one or other of her daughters with me for weeks at a time. She has been a happy woman, though she has had her troubles, particularly in the loss of several of her children.
When peace was proclaimed, Walter and Amabel went abroad and visited our old home in France. They found the convent quite deserted, save by an old priest who did duty in the church, and the court-yard and cemetery so overgrown that they could hardly find the place where dear Mother Superior was buried. The community were living and flourishing in the new house at Fleurs, having received several accessions to their numbers. Mother Prudentia was still superior, and received Amabel with great affection, though she mourned greatly over her desertion of the true church. The dear lady sent me some beautiful lace, and a book of His Grace the Archbishop of Cambrai's writings, which are good reading for any one, whether Catholic or Protestant. There is, it seems, little or no persecution for the sake of religion in France at present, though the Jesuits still hold up their heads, and have whatever education there is for the common people wholly in their own hands. But there is great distress among the people, especially among the peasantry, and many ominous mutterings of discontent. If the poor beast of burden does once get loose, I pity his former keepers.
My Lord Carew is an excellent landlord, and has greatly improved the condition both of his estate and the people living upon it. He and Mr. Wesley are as great friends as ever. Mr Wesley always visits me when he comes into these parts, and approves my management of the children in general, though he thinks I allow them too much play, * and shakes his head over the baby-house and storybooks in the girls' sitting-room. However, he admits nowadays that fiction may have its uses, and has himself edited an edition of Mr. Brooke's "Fool of Quality" under the name of "The life of Henry, Earl of Moreland," and he has also written some notes upon Shakespeare, † as he tells me. He is still hale and hearty, and preaches with all the fire and vigor of his early days, when I heard him in the church-yard of St. Anne's.
* It is well-known that Mr Wesley forbade play entirely in his own school at Kingswood a strange mistake to be made by such a sensible, practical man. No wonder the school was not a success
† Which were unhappily destroyed.
It is most wonderful to see the changes he has worked in these parts, among the tinners, fishermen, and other wild people. He has greatly lessened by his influence, the horrible practise of wrecking, that is, decoying vessels on shore by means of false lights that they may be wrecked and plundered. There are wrecks enough as it is on this dangerous shore. I hope we shall hear of none to-morrow, but it promises a wild night, and there are two or three ships in the offing.
* * * * *
Word has been brought to me that several bodies have come ashore, and that the fishermen have saved alive two persons who were floating on a spar. One, they tell me, says he is from Newcastle, and has been a prisoner among the Moors for many years. I must go down and see if I can do anything for them. I am so silly, that such a story sets my heart to beating as though Harry had not been dead this many a year. If it should be he! Well, if it were, I am growing an old woman, and very likely he would not know me, or he may be married. How silly I am. As if there were one chance in ten thousand.
But it was Harry, and we knew each other before a word was spoken. He was shipwrecked in the Indian Ocean as we heard, but was saved by a Moorish vessel after he had floated on some pieces of the vessel for two or three days, and was a slave to the Moors for many a long year. Being thus forced to serve on board a pirate vessel, he had the luck to be taken by an English Indiaman, and carried to Bombay, from whence he had come home at last.
He said he might have returned before, but hearing from some Newcastle man that I was married, he lost all heart or wish to see his native place again. So he staid in India, where he got good employment under the company and made a fair fortune.
At last, he conceived a desire to see England again. Coming to London, he met Wilson, who is comfortably established there in a hair-dressing business, and having formerly had some slight acquaintance with her, he made himself known to her, and heard the truth about me.
He was coming to seek me out, when his ship, which was bound for Bristol, was wrecked and threw him as it were at my very door.
Harry is very earnest with me to marry him at once, saying that we have been separated long enough, and if we have not many years to live there is so much the more reason why we should spend them together. I have told him that I must consult my Lord and Amabel, and he makes no objection, because, as he says, he knows well enough what they will say
Harry told me, that while in London, he lodged with Mrs. Wilson, who is quite a changed woman and as devout and serious as she used to be the contrary. He found her caring for a poor demented sullen creature who never spoke, but spent her whole time in twisting and untwisting a ribbon in her wasted hands. Mrs. Wilson was as tender of her as though she were her own child, serving her with the best of everything, and treating her with the greatest respect, though the poor thing hardly seemed to take a sense of anything.
It was only just before he came away, that Wilson told him this wretched spectre was once the proud and beautiful Lady Throckmorton. She had found her former mistress sustained by the charity of some poor fallen creatures in a wretched garret (for it seems Wilson spends much time and money in visiting and helping the poor) and had brought her home to spend her last days in peace. The poor thing has a heart disease, and was like to die at any time.
Never was a woman who had more advantages, or one who more wantonly threw them all away. She chose the world for her portion. She would have her good things in this life. But the world slipped from her grasp, and its fruits turned to dust and ashes on her lips.
She did not sin in ignorance. She heard times enough, the voice which said: "This is the way, walk ye in it." But she chose her own way and it led her down to utter destruction. Poor thing, poor thing!
I shall go to see Amabel to-morrow, but I know very well what she will say.
THE END.
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