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He had been hacked and hewed with knives. Captain Langrishe had been more fortunate; the life was still in him when the last intelligence had been sent down. There was very little hope of his recovery. Nelly neither cried out nor fainted. When she had finished the reading she laid down the paper quietly. Her father watched her in mingled terror and relief.
He had mentioned the tree to Langrishe at lunch, apologising for asking his assistance at so homely an occasion. His eye twinkled as he said it; and rather to Nelly's bewilderment the young man blushed like a girl. Apparently he had heard of the Christmas Tree before, for he made no comment. After lunch the lovers were a little while alone.
Father, why did you keep from me the fact that Captain Langrishe was fighting the Wazees? Why did you?" The General's colour deserted his cheeks once again. "Poor Langrishe! What was the good of letting you know, Nell? You used to be interested in the poor fellow." "You shouldn't have kept it from me. I didn't read the newspapers, or I should have known. Do you know why I didn't read them?
She had a heavy heart for him as she bade him good-night, although she called something after him with a cheerful pretence about their rendezvous next morning. "It is nine-thirty at Fenchurch Street, isn't it?" she asked. "Do you think you will ever manage it, Bel?" Captain Langrishe smiled at her haggardly. "Oh, yes, easily by staying up all night," she answered.
He had thought he was doing a great deal when he, an old man and so high in his profession, had made advances to the young fellow for his girl's sake. To be sure, he had been certain that Langrishe was in love with Nell, else the thing had not been possible. Now that his love was beyond doubt the old idea recurred to him.
Nelly could see it all, from the moment the big boat came into Southampton Docks till the arrival in London. Captain Langrishe was going down to his sister's cottage in Sussex. The mother and sister, who already claimed Nelly as their own, had been eager for her to be there on their arrival, or to come later. But Nelly was adamant. "He must come to me," she said.
Yes, it was her ribbon, which had fallen from her hair that morning more than a year ago when Captain Langrishe had ridden by with the regiment and the wind had carried off her ribbon. She received it with a trembling eagerness. "Yes, it is mine," she said. "I knew he had it. He showed it to me before he went away." "How furious Godfrey will be when he misses it!" Mrs. Rooke said.
She was a different Nelly from her of a couple of months earlier, her delicacy gone, her old pretty bloom come back, her eyes bright as of old. "Mrs. Langrishe wants me to return to her!" she confided to Mary, "but we are going to Sherwood Square. You know, he is on his way home. In a week or two he will be on the sea. He must come to me, not find me there waiting for him.
It was now one chance in a thousand that the General would not be too late. If that chance came, if he saw Langrishe he would take it as a sign that God approved his first intention. If the Sutlej had sailed well, that, too, was the leading and the light. As they ran into Tilbury Station a train was standing at the departure platform. The General beckoned to a porter.
She had passed beyond it and out into the warm firelit room before she realised that there was another occupant. Someone stood up from the couch by the fireplace as she came towards it. Fate had been on her side for once. The person was Captain Langrishe. "My sister will not be very long, Miss Drummond," he began, in a tone he tried in vain to make indifferent.
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