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"There is one thing you must do for me, senor," he said quietly, "before we leave this most unhappy case of murder and theft for ever." "What is that?" asked Sir Frank, turning with Inez in his arms. "To-night at eight o'clock, Captain Hervey the sailor Gustav Vasa, if you prefer the name steams down the river in his new boat The Firefly.
Don't let them follow him!" One sharp, short order from Hervey stopped the foremost as they ran for the entrance. In fact, not one of them was peculiarly keen to follow such a trail as this in the darkness. Breathless silence fell over the patio, and then they heard the departing beat of the hoofs of Red's horse.
Ormond clasped her hands, in an ecstasy of joy, as she glanced her eye over the letter, for it contained an offer of his hand. "This is like yourself; like what I always knew you to be, dear Mr. Hervey!" she exclaimed. But her exclamation was lost upon him. When she looked up, to repeat her praises, she perceived he was gone.
"I had not seen Belinda Portman then." "And I wish to Heaven you never had seen her! But oh, surely, Mr. Hervey, you will not desert my Virginia! Must her health, her happiness, her reputation, all be the sacrifice?" "Reputation! Mrs. Ormond." "Reputation, Mr. Hervey: you do not know in what a light she is considered here; nor did I till lately.
At the same moment there came a derisive whistle from The Firefly, and they saw the great tramp steamer slowly moving down stream, increasing her speed with almost every revolution of the screw. Braddock had been captured, but Hervey had escaped. At the inquest on the Professor and on the body of Mrs.
"Take care," cried Lady Anne, "or you will lead your friend into the river, Charles." The boy paused, and soon afterwards asked his father several questions about swimming and drowning, and bringing people to life after they had been drowned. "Don't you remember, papa," said he, "that Mr. Hervey, who was almost drowned in the Serpentine river in London?"
In a letter of sympathy written by her years afterwards to the Graham Balfours, on hearing of the death of one of their children, she says: "My Hervey would have been a man of forty now had he lived, and yet I am grieving and longing for my little child as though he had just gone. Time doesn't always heal wounds as we are told it does."
Hervey! forgive me! forgive me!" Mrs. Ormond drew back the curtain, and saw Virginia lying fast asleep; her beautiful face convulsed with agony. "He's dead! Mr. Hervey!" cried she, in a voice of exquisite distress: then starting up, and stretching out her arms, she uttered a piercing cry, and awoke. "My love, you have been dreaming frightfully," said Mrs. Ormond.
"Well, well; maybe it's for the best," said her mother, in a consolatory manner. "Seemingly his coming would only 'a caused bickerings with Hervey, and, good-sakes, we get enough of that now. I'm not one for underhand dealings, but I'm thinking it would be for the best not to say anything to your brother about his coming at all. If he asks, just say he can't come to stop.
Well then once more I say, do you, my dear, tell me what you know of their avowed and general motives; and I will tell you more than you will tell me of their failings! Your aunt Hervey, you say,* has told you: Why must I ask you to let me know them, when you condescend to ask my advice on the occasion? * See Letter VIII.
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