Of High Descent Part 49

If ever man suffered agony, that man was Harry Vine as he listened to the poor simple-hearted woman's thanks. His punishment had commenced, and every time the door opened he gave a guilty start, and turned white as ash.

"Don't take it like that, Harry," said Louise tenderly. "There is always hope, dear."

She looked lovingly in his eyes, and pressed his hand, as their father went on talking in a low voice, and giving utterance to his thoughts.

"The scoundrels, as far as I can make out, Harry, my boy, seem to have got in by the back. The door was unfastened, and they must have known a good deal about the place--by watching I suppose, for they knew where to find the keys, and how to open the safe."

Harry's breath came in a spasmodic way, as he sat there chained, as it were, to his place.

"Five hundred pounds. A very heavy sum. I must not blame him, poor fellow, but I should have thought it a mistake to have so large a sum in the house."

At last the doctor descended looking very grave.

"Ah, Knatchbull," said Vine in an excited whisper as he rose and caught the doctor's hand; "how is he?"

The doctor shook his head.

"Has he recovered his senses?"

"_No_."

"Nor said a word about who his a.s.sailants were?"

"No, sir, nor is he likely to for some time to come."

Harry Vine sat with his eyes closed, not daring to look; and, as the doctor's words came, a terrible weight of dread seemed to be lifted from his brain.

"I may go up now, may I not?"

"No, sir, certainly not," said the doctor.

"But we are such old friends; we were boys together, Knatchbull."

"If you were twin-brothers, sir, I should say the same. Why, do you know, sir, I've forbidden Mrs Van Heldre to go into the room. She could not control her feelings, and absolute silence is indispensable."

"Then he is alone?"

"No, no; his daughter is with him. By George! Mr Vine, if I had been a married man instead of a surly old soured bachelor, I should be so proud and jealous of such a girl as Miss Van Heldre that I should have been ready to poison the first young fellow who dared to think about her."

"We are all very proud of Madelaine," said Vine slowly. "I love her as if she were my own child."

"Humph! your sister is not," said the doctor dryly.

"No, my sister is not," said the old man slowly.

"Then, now, Mr Vine, if you please, I am going to ask you people to go."

"Go?" said Vine, in angry remonstrance.

"Yes; you can do nothing. No change is likely to take place perhaps for days, and with Miss Van Heldre for nurse and Crampton to act as my help if necessary, there will be plenty of a.s.sistance here. What I want most is quiet."

"Harry, take Louise home," said the old man quickly.

"And you will go with them, sir."

"No," said Vine quietly. "If I lay in my room stricken down, John Van Heldre would not leave me, Knatchbull, and I am not going to leave him.

Good-night, my children. Go at once."

"But Madelaine, father."

"I shall tell her when she comes down that you were driven away, but I shall send for you to relieve her as soon as I may."

Louise stifled a sob, and the old doctor took and patted her hand.

"You shall be sent for, my dear, as soon as you can be of use. You are helping me in going. There, good-night."

A minute later, hanging heavily on her brother's arm, Louise Vine was walking slowly homeward through the silent night. Her heart was too full for words, and Harry uttered a low hoa.r.s.e sigh from time to time, his lips never once parting to speak till they reached the house.

To the surprise of both, on entering they were confronted by Aunt Marguerite.

"What does all this mean?" she said angrily. "Why did every one go out without telling me a word?"

Louise gently explained to her what had befallen her father's friend.

"Oh," said Aunt Marguerite, with a slight shrug of the shoulders.

"Well, it might have been worse. There, I am very tired. Take me up, child, to bed."

"Good-night, Harry; you will go and lie down," whispered Louise.

"Good-night, dear."

She clung to him as if the trouble had drawn them closer, and then went into the hall to light a candle.

"Good-night, Henri," said Aunt Marguerite, holding her cheek for the young man's mechanical kiss. "This is very sad, of course, but it seems to me like emanc.i.p.ation for you. If it is, I shall not look upon it as a calamity, but as a blessing for us all. Good-night."

The door closed upon her, and Harry Vine sat alone in the dining-room with his hands clasped before him, gazing straight away into his future, and trying to see the road.

"If I had but thrown myself upon his mercy," he groaned; but he knew that it was impossible all through his regret.

What to do now? Where to go? Money? Yes; he had a little, thanks to his regular work as Van Heldre's clerk--his money that he had received, and he was about to use it to escape--where?

"G.o.d help me!" groaned the unhappy man at last; "what shall I do?"

He started up in horror, for the door-handle turned. Had they found out so soon? Was he to be arrested now?

"Harry--Harry!"

A quick husky whisper, but he could not speak.

"Harry, why don't you answer? What are you staring at?"