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Updated: May 1, 2025
They contained the tidings that Frederick Massingbird had died of fever, and that Sibylla was anxious to come home again. "Who is Captain Cannonby?" asked Lionel of Jan. "Have you forgotten the name?" returned Jan. "That friend of Fred Massingbird's who sold out, and was knocking about London; Fred went up once or twice to see him.
"This must be just one of those cases, Captain Cannonby, when good Catholics, in the old days, made a vow to the Virgin of so many valuable offerings, should the dread be removed and turn out to have been no legitimate dread at all." "Ay. I should like to be in at the upshot." "I hope you will be. You must not run away from us immediately. Where's your luggage?" Captain Cannonby laughed.
Lionel opened the door, called to Tynn, and desired him to bring wine. "What time did Captain Cannonby get here?" he whispered, as he took it from the butler. "Who, sir?" asked Tynn. "Captain Cannonby." Tynn paused, like one who does not understand. "There's no gentleman here of that name, sir. A Mr. Rushworth called to-day, and my mistress asked him to stay dinner. He is in the drawing-room now.
Captain Cannonby, the only one of the guests who remained, grew charmed with John, and stated his private opinion in the ear of Lionel Verner that he was worth a hundred such as Frederick. "How can I help turning them out?" answered he. "I didn't make the will it was old Daddy Verner." "You need not act upon the will," said Jan.
Then he was in ignorance of it! But, to keep him in ignorance was impossible. Lionel must ask confirmation or non-confirmation of the death. With low voice and rapid speech he mentioned the fears and the facts. Captain Cannonby gathered them in, withdrew his arm from Lionel's, and stood staring at him. "Fred Massingbird alive, and come back to England!" he uttered, in bewildered wonder.
He was walking away with his usual rapid strides, on his way to some patient, when Lionel caught hold of him. "Jan, this is Captain Cannonby. The friend who was with Frederick Massingbird when he died. He assures me that he is dead. Dead and buried. My brother, Captain Cannonby." "There cannot be a doubt of it," said Captain Cannonby, alluding to the death. "I saw him die; I helped to bury him."
It's sure not, in fact, by the letters. You can read them, Lionel. There's one from her and one from Captain Cannonby." "It's not likely they'd drag Sibylla up to the diggings," interposed Jan. "And yet almost as unlikely that her husband would leave her alone in such a place as Melbourne appears to be," dissented Lionel. "She was not left alone," said Mrs. Verner.
Truly, Lionel marvelled. There flashed into his mind the grieving face of another, whom he had not long ago parted from; grieving for their woes. Better for his mind's peace that these contrasts had not been forced so continually upon him. Could she, in some unaccountable manner, have heard the consoling news that Cannonby brought?
"You are saying it to annoy me. I'll never appeal to you again. Sir Rufus, they did play expressly for me." "It may be bad taste, but I'd rather see the waterworks at St. Cloud than at Versailles," observed a Mr. Gordon, some acquaintance that they had picked up in town, and to whom it had been Sibylla's pleasure to give an invitation. "Cannonby wrote me word last week from Paris "
To the best of Lionel's recollection, Sibylla had said Captain Cannonby buried her husband; but it was a point into which Lionel had never minutely inquired. Allow that Jan's suggestion was correct that he did not die where had he been since? What had prevented him from joining or seeking his wife? What prevented him doing it now?
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