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Updated: June 18, 2025
Brock's room, which Beth occupied, snatching a moment to make inquiries and receive comfort; and as soon as she entered she subsided suddenly on to a chair out of breath. "How you do it a dozen times a day, Miss Maclure, I can't think," she gasped. "Those stairs have taught me what servants suffer," Beth said, as if that, at all events, were a thing for which to be thankful.
So far Fortune had declared herself at last on the rector's side. Ozias Midwinter, after intrusively rising to the surface, had conveniently dropped out of sight again. What was to happen next? Advancing once more, by three weeks only, from past to present, Mr. Brock's memory took up the next event on the seventh of April. To all appearance, the chain was now broken at last.
On the next morning the help came, and Mr. Brock's worst fears were confirmed. The village surgeon had fatally misunderstood the case from the first, and the time was past now at which his errors of treatment might have been set right. The shock of the previous morning had completed the mischief. Mrs. Armadale's days were numbered.
I shouldn't think of ending it all with Katherine so long as we are both guests of her father. I'd wait until the end of next week." Brock had listened in utter amazement to the opening portion of this ingenuous proposal. As the flexile youth progressed, amazement gave place to indignation and then to disgust. Brock's brow grew dark; the impulse to pull his countryman's nose was hard to overcome.
The great victory by the British Admiral Rodney, when he whipped a superior French fleet to a standstill, was yet to come. Bastions and earthworks grew during the night like mushrooms. While Brock chafed under restraint, he knew how to improve the opportunity. Fishing, shooting sea-fowl, and exploring the interior on horseback, were Brock's chief pastimes. He became a fearless horseman.
This was so distant from Saylor's that they thought of moving headquarters to Asher Brock's at the head of the creek valley; but as a couple of days would complete the work they concluded to remain where they were, riding forth in the morning and back in the evening. Mary fixed a lunch, which was placed in a grain sack and tied behind Cornwall's saddle.
Near noon they stopped to rest and eat under some elms in the upper creek valley, when Cornwall discovered that the lunch was gone, the sack having been pulled off while he was riding through the dense underbrush. Their appetites were whetted by the smell of frying ham, wind-wafted down the creek from Asher Brock's. They rode to the house and asked to share the meal.
To the north the floor of the forest was interlaced with trails, which, with the intention of deceiving Hull's spies as to the strength of Brock's forces, had been crossed and recrossed, and countermarched and doubled over, by the soldiers and Tecumseh's half-naked braves. The air was filled with the fragrance of orchard and forest.
Brock's letter has, apparently, not lost its influence yet. Midwinter is working again to-day, and is as anxious as ever for the holiday-time that he is to pass with his friend. "Two o'clock. Armadale here as usual; eager to know when Midwinter will be at his service. No definite answer to be given to the question yet, seeing that it all depends on Midwinter's capacity to continue at his desk.
She drew another and a deeper breath, and, forecasting her destiny, with shoulders squared and fixed resolve, made ready to create an empire of industrial greatness which, under Providence, was to rank second to none. The influence of Brock's life, achievements and death upon the Canadian people was more far-reaching than boy, or even man, would suppose.
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