During Josey's absence the doctor came.
'Your mother is no worse,' he said, after his examination; 'but I am not satisfied with her condition; it puzzles me. I can say nothing at present except that rest and freedom from agitation are imperative; there must be no noise in the house, no voices raised in anger, nothing that can in any way disturb her. Her life may depend upon it.'
By this I knew that he must have heard something more of what had taken place than what I had told him. Indeed, the gossips of the neighbourhood had commenced their work. I have puzzled my head many times to discover by what means they knew what they knew, but it was and is a mystery to me. They were familiar with matters which I had supposed no person outside our little circle could possibly be acquainted with. They knew that uncle Bryan and I were at daggers drawn, and that there had been a desperate quarrel between us; they knew that he had left the house, that Jessie had run away on her birthday, and that my mother was lying dangerously ill. Being in possession of these bare bones, they put them together with amazing ingenuity, and produced the most astounding results. The first thing they settled was, that uncle Bryan and I had quarrelled not alone with our tongues, but with our hands; and one of the pictures which grew out of the story as it was related by one to another represented uncle Bryan lying on the ground and me standing over him with a knife, while Josey West was rushing between us to prevent murder being done. Another picture represented uncle Bryan packing up in a handkerchief all his treasure in money (for, strange to say, I now learned for the first time that he bore the reputation of a miser, and that it was generally supposed he had large sums of money concealed), and stealing off in the dead of night in fear of his life. Another, and the worst, picture concerned Jessie and Mr. Glover. Mr. Glover, an enormously rich gentleman, had fallen desperately in love with Jessie, and she had consented to elope with him. The gossips gloated over the details. A carriage with a pair of gray horses was waiting at the corner of a certain street (name given) about a quarter of a mile away; Mr. Glover, in a large cloak, was on the watch at the appointed time; Jessie made her appearance, with a small bundle in her hand wrapped in a handkerchief; Mr. Glover lifted her into the carriage, jumped in after her, and away they whirled. Even if they had been inclined to doubt the truth of this story (which they were not), it was impossible for them to do so because of the exact and wonderful details which accompanied its relation. There were a coachman and a footman dressed in such and such a way, down to their very buttons; the carriage was painted blue, with edgings of yellow; Mr. Glover wore a smoking-cap, and his cloak had a fur collar, and two gold tassels attached to it. This cloak gave an air of mysterious romance to the picture, and added much to the enjoyment of it. It is worthy of notice that both uncle Bryan and Jessie left our house with something done up in a pocket-handkerchief. This occurs to me as an arbitrary feature in the painting of such pictures; and I have no doubt that, had a dozen persons been missing, each would have been portrayed as stealing away with something done up in a pocket-handkerchief in his hand.
Before the day was out, the whole neighbourhood was busy talking over these stories, and discussing their probable results.
Josey had returned within the ten minutes, and brought with her Matty and Rosy. The shop was opened, and a more than usually brisk business was done, in consequence of the gossips dropping in to pick up information; but I resolutely refused to go behind the counter. I would have nothing to do with it. I had already saved a little purse of money, and my earnings were good. I was determined to have no further connection with uncle Bryan in any shape or way whatever.
'Then I must take possession,' observed Josey, after listening to my views, which I expressed in most unmistakable terms. It would be a pity to let such a business go to rack and ruin. If your uncle Bryan returns, I shall be able to render a proper account.'
She entered upon this as she entered upon everything else, with intense and thorough earnestness, and the business was carried on, and the duties of the house performed, as though nothing of importance had occurred to disturb them. She might have been born a grocer for the intimate knowledge she displayed of the requirements of the trade. When I expressed my astonishment, she said philosophically:
'My dear, nothing's difficult. One can do anything if one makes up one's mind to do it. All one has got to do is to go about it willingly.'
In the mean time I looked out anxiously for news of Jessie, but on the first day of her absence I learnt nothing. I went to Mr. Rackstraw's in the afternoon to make inquiries, but he received me coldly, and desired me not to call again--in such terms that I was certain Mr. Glover had made him my enemy. Then I went to Turk's new shop, and found him very busy, and sanguine of his prospects. But as he had no news of Jessie I listened to his relation of his plans with small interest.
'I shall be able to serve you, Chris,' he said, before I went away; 'I shall keep my eyes open.'