Mother and Son.
“Mother,” said Brace Norton the next morning, as, none the worse for his immersion, he stood by her side, she holding his hand the while and gazing up into his face,—“mother, I went out yesterday with the full intention of dreaming no more of my foolish love; and what was the result? Strange, too,” he said, with affected gaiety; “one would have thought that an hour’s immersion would have quenched it. But there, you will, perhaps, laugh at me, and think me childish and full of folly; still, I cannot help it—I love her more dearly than ever, and feel no shame in owning it to you. How am I to give her up now, after holding her to my breast as I did for a whole hour yesterday, her arms clasped the while round my neck, and her poor head resting upon my shoulder? Mother, it was a mingling of misery, despair, and bliss; and when, at last, I had given up all hope of being saved—when I had struggled till I could struggle no more—when I had called till my voice failed in my throat—when I felt that my—our last hour was at hand, I broke faith even with myself.”
Brace paused for a few moments, for his voice was husky, but recovering himself, he went on:
“I dare say it was wrong; but I was under the impression that all was over. I could have saved my own life, perhaps; but I could not leave her to perish. The sun had sunk, and darkness was fast coming on; the evening breeze was sighing what seemed to my excited fancy a dirge amidst the rustling reeds; and again and again some curlew flew over us giving utterance to a loud wail. At one time it seemed so hard to die just in the spring of life; but the next instant, as I looked down at the poor head resting upon my breast, the sorrow was all for her, and with that sorrow there was a strange—an awful pleasure. It was, I should think, about ten minutes before help came that she raised her head, and her sweet beseeching eyes looked full in mine.
“‘Is there no hope?’ she whispered; and I feared to tell her the cruel truth.
“‘But you could save yourself,’ she faltered; ‘you struggled too hard before; why should you perish in trying to save me?’
“She spoke so earnestly, and with such a sweet resignation, that the tears came gushing from my eyes—weak, womanly tears, mother; for I am weak, very weak, I know, or I should not tell you all this.”
“Is it weak to confide all things to her who gave you birth, Brace?” whispered Mrs Norton.
“No—no!” he replied; and then, as if recalling the scene of the preceding evening, he continued:
“‘Try,’ she whispered to me—‘try once more, and you may bring help.’
“As she spoke she unloosed her arms from my neck, and it was like adding despair to despair.
“‘Why do you tempt me?’ I said; for it seemed that now the time had come when I might speak. ‘Do you think that I could live without you? and do you not know that since the day when we first met my every thought has been of you, and that I have vainly struggled to free myself? You will believe me now—now that we are, perhaps, within a few minutes to stand in the presence of our Maker. Isa, I love you with a pure and holy love—a love that makes me, despairing as I am of ever possessing you in this life, look forward to the prospect of being with you in death,’ I whispered, as I held her more tightly. ‘You know little of me, but you know, perhaps, the sad misfortunes of our families, and how it seems that by some strange intervention of fate my heart has been led to you.’
“She was silent, but her arms once more rested upon my shoulder, and her sweet innocent, girlish face was close to mine, as there, chilled to the heart with the icy water, I asked her to forgive me my declaration, and kissed her pale lips again and again.
“It was then that—urged once more by the strong desire for life—I tried once more to utter a cry or two for help; and, five minutes after, that help was at hand.”
Brace Norton was silent now for a few minutes; and then, as if in answer to his mother’s look, he said:
“Must I, then, go?”
“Yes, Brace—yes. Your father leaves in an hour. It will be far better. Only for a few days, till she recovers and is removed.”
“But may I not see her first?” he pleaded.
“Brace, my dear boy,” said Mrs Norton, proudly, “would it be honourable to take advantage of her position here? Too much has already passed for your peace of mind. Go, now; and leave the house free to Sir Murray Gernon to come and go untouched in his sensitiveness. You must fight still, and bravely, too.”
Without another word the young man slowly left the room; and before an hour had elapsed Captain Norton and his son were on their way to Marshton.