Gladys, the Reaper Part 73

'Ever since that morning, sir, she has been in a kind of a dream. She does nothing but look out of the window, up and down the street, as if she was expecting some one, and whenever there is a step on the stairs, she runs to the door and peeps out. And then, when the postman's knock is heard, she starts, turns red, turns pale, and puts her hand on her heart. I am sure she has heart complaint, and I asked her to let me send for a doctor, but she wouldn't hear of it. Sometimes I think she's a little crazed. Once I mentioned the clergy, and asked if she wouldn't like to see one, and said you and Mr Jones, sir, were very kind gentlemen. She started up, and said, "Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+ not for worlds--not for worlds! Mr Mills will soon be back!" She gave me a ten-pound note to change twice--and I was obliged to buy everything for her and the little girl, for they hadn't a rag with them, except what they stood up in. I was as careful as I could be, but the money went, and now she talks of selling some jewels and things she brought with her. Oh, sir! if you could find their friends!'

As may be supposed, Rowland had some difficulty in controlling his emotion during this recital. When Mrs Saunders paused, he said,--

'I have every reason to believe that I know this poor lady, and, if you will trust me to go to her, I am sure that I shall be of service. I must go quite alone. You may depend upon my having a right to do this.'

'Whatever you do, sir, is sure to be right and kind. If you will take it upon yourself I shall be only too glad. You know the room, sir? the one where you used to go and see my poor husband.'

Rowland was upstairs immediately. Almost before he reached the door, a pale, haggard face peered out of it.

'It is--it is Howel!' cried poor Netta, rus.h.i.+ng into the gloomy pa.s.sage, and throwing her arms round Rowland's neck.

'No, Netta--dearest Netta! it is I, Rowland--your brother,' said Rowland, supporting his fainting sister back into the room.

'Uncle! Uncle Rowland! I am so glad!' exclaimed a little voice, as Minette ran towards him and clasped his knees.

As, the glare of the gas by which the room was lighted fell upon Netta's face, Rowland half believed that it was the corpse of his once blooming sister that he was placing on the sofa.

'Fetch some water, Minette, darling,' said Rowland, supporting Netta.

'This is what mamma takes,' said the child, bringing Rowland a small bottle labelled 'Prussic acid' from the bedroom.

'I cannot give her this. Is there no wine?'

'The little girl went to an old chiffonier and brought a decanter with wine in it. Rowland poured some down Netta's throat, and she recovered.

'Rowland, is it you? Not--not--' muttered Netta, as she strove to rise.

'I think you had better go. Perhaps, when he comes, he won't like--oh, my heart.'

'Be calm, dear Netta; I will do nothing you dislike. If Howel comes back I will go away directly. I will be most careful of what I say. You need not fear me, Netta,--your brother who loves you so dearly'

'You won't go away again, uncle, will you?' said the pale, little Minette, climbing on Rowland's knee and nestling her head in his bosom; 'or will you take mamma and me away from this nasty place?'

'No, dear, Uncle Rowland will not leave you, he is so very glad to find you.'

Tears, actual tears, filled Rowland's eyes as he kissed the brow of the child, who was soon fast asleep in his arms, and as he held Netta's thin hand and looked at her bewildered face.

'Did you say you loved me, Rowland?' asked Netta, looking at him with a strange, wandering glance, whilst large tears rolled down her cheeks. 'I don't think I deserve any one's love, do I? Is mother vexed that I have been away so long?'

'Yes, dear, and you must come home at once. You must come to me first to get strong, and then--'

'Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+ No, I cannot leave this house,--I will not; never, never till Howel comes or sends for me. Isn't that some one on the stairs?'

'I will see, dear.'

'No, not you,--not you.'

'It is some one gone to the next floor. Lie still, dear Netta.'

'It is nice having you, Rowland; but if he should come--'

'I would go away. You are ill, Netta. Tell me what is the matter with you.'

Rowland was feeling Netta's pulse, and found that they were too rapid to be counted, whilst he could literally hear the pulsation of her heart.

'I don't know; something at my heart. And--and--my head, just here,--at the top. It is so burning, like fire.'

'We must nurse you, Netta. If you would only come to my lodgings.'

'Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+ not for the world. I will stay here till--I am sure that is a step.'

'No dear. Try to be calm and sleep for half-an-hour, whilst I go and make some arrangements.'

'Do you think he will come to-night?'

'I scarcely think he can, Netta. You know he is obliged to hide, dear, do you not? for--'

'Yes, yes! he told me for a few days for debt, and then he would come back. But he didn't murder Captain Dancy, did he?'

Netta started up and fixed her eyes wildly on her brother.

'No,--I a.s.sure you, no! I saw some one who saw Captain Dancy yesterday.'

'Thank G.o.d! thank G.o.d!'

'And, Netta, I do not think he can venture to come back just yet; so you must try to get well for all our sakes.'

'Yes, I will, that I may go to him. I will sleep now. Put Minette by my side. Poor Minette!'

Rowland laid the child's head on her mother's lap, and arranged the pillows for Netta, and then went, with a heart full to bursting, to Mrs Saunders.

'Mrs Saunders,' he said, 'I know that I can trust you. The poor lady to whom you have been so kind is my own sister, for whom we have been anxiously searching all this time. I don't know how far secrecy may be necessary, but, at present at least, do no let this fact go beyond yourself. Her husband has reduced her to what you see. I must leave her for half-an-hour; meanwhile, will you prepare supper, make a cheerful fire, let off the gas, and give us a couple of candles? Make the room as home-like as you can, in short. After my sister and the little girl are gone to bed, put a couple of blankets on the sofa in the sitting-room for me. I cannot leave her to-night.'

'Excuse me, sir,' said Mrs Saunders, 'wouldn't your sleeping here excite observation, if secrecy is necessary. You may depend on my care. Sarah has slept on the sofa for a fortnight, unknown to Mrs Mills, to be within call.'

'Perhaps you are right; but I want to make my sister fancy she is at home. It might recall her mind, which is evidently wandering. I shall be back soon.'

Rowland walked as fast as he could to Mr Jones'. He found him, his wife, and Freda together in his library.

'I must apologise for coming so late,' he began; 'but I know you are so kindly interested in my poor sister that you will excuse me. I have found her and her child, and cannot prevail on her to leave her rooms at Mrs Saunders', where she is.'

Then Rowland told his friends shortly how he had found her, and that he feared her mind was in a most uncertain state.

'She evidently does not know her husband's crimes, but thinks he is hiding on account of debt, and is expecting him to fetch her away every moment. I think if we could distract her thoughts from this one subject she might get better; but she is very ill, bodily as well as mentally.'

'Would not the sight of old friends be the best restorative?' suggested Miss Gwynne. 'Gladys and I could go to her, and as we are in the habit of visiting the sick in the parish, no suspicion could attach to our being with her; for it would never do, in poor Netta's state, to expose her to inquisitive people connected with her husband's flight.'

'Thank you--thank you, Miss Gwynne,' said Rowland 'This is what I wished, but scarcely dared to ask.'

Miss Gwynne left the room, and returned accompanied by Gladys.