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Updated: June 13, 2025
At last, after what seemed a very long time, the doctor came out of Mrs. Archdale's house and began walking quickly down the street. Coxeter crossed over and touched him on the arm. "If I may," he said, "I should like a word with you. I want to ask you I mean I trust that Mrs. Archdale is recovering from the effect of the terrible experience she went through the other night."
So he bribed the nurse to report his death, and persuaded her that it was better for the little fellow to stay with him as his sole heir than follow the fortunes of a haunted man in a wilderness, as America must have been then." "And do you really believe they never knew of this son of theirs being alive?" "Mr. Archdale's will, if nothing else, proves that.
Archdale's sister, Coxeter with a groan would have admitted that she owed her a duty, though a duty which he would fain have had her shirk or rather delegate to another. But this woman was no sister, not even a friend, simply an old acquaintance known to Nan, 'tis true, over many years.
Perforce the story went on to its melancholy and inconclusive end, and then, suddenly, Coxeter became possessed with a desire to see Nan Archdale's face. He glanced across at her. To his surprise her face was expressionless; but her left hand was no longer lying on her knee, it was supporting her chin, and she was looking straight before her.
As he was hesitating, a carriage drove up, and a footman came forward with a card, while the occupant of the carriage called out, making anxious inquiries as to Mrs. Archdale's condition, and promising to call again the same afternoon. Coxeter suddenly told himself that it behoved him to see the doctor, and ascertain from him whether Mrs. Archdale was really ill.
But Master Shurtleff was probably a little late and had been afraid of keeping the bride and groom waiting for him. Master and Mistress Archdale were there; all the company, indeed, but the four members of it most important that morning, Katie and Stephen, the bridesmaid, Mistress Royal, and the best man, a young friend of Archdale's.
If she had seen Archdale's heel crush it unheedingly as he passed out of the arbor, the beat of her pulses would never have varied. It was early in December. The months had brought serious changes to all but one of the group that the August morning had found in Mr. Archdale's garden.
Edmonson told his friend of having met one of the guests at Katie Archdale's wedding, but he did not say to him that coming out of Mr. Royal's house and walking quickly down the street, he had met the bridegroom himself, and had returned Archdale's bow with a politeness equally cold, while anger had leaped up within him. Was Archdale going to call upon his wife?
His trained eye had caught what the distance had hidden from her, the figure of a man coming rapidly toward the shore. When the General landed, the keel of the little boat he was in grated on the beach at Stephen Archdale's feet. With a salute to his commander, the latter sprang into it, and before Elizabeth had recovered her breath, was coming over the ship's side.
Pepperell was alone. "Sit down," he said. "No, let us go out into the air. Warren's dispatches have just come," he added, as the two passed out of the tent. "He expects two or three large ships in any day. I shall arrange for the general attack as soon as they come up." He smiled at Archdale's enthusiastic endorsement. "You like the smoke of battle," he said.
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