The thin fingers closed upon his own; then he heard the words: “It runs in the blood; like father, like son.”
Both Vandemar and Clarence were soon in receipt of letters informing them of the death and burial of the Earl of Noxton. They read, too, in the papers, of the demise of Lord Carolus De Vinne, Earl of Noxton, and the announcement of the accession of his son John De Vinne to the title. The item contained the information that the young Earl had been married while in Paris to Miss Bertha Renville, daughter of the late Oscar Renville, who had left her a large fortune which would go to swell the revenues of the young Earl. The item further stated that the young Countess of Noxton was a beautiful English girl, and when the period of retirement was over she would, no doubt, prove a great acquisition to London society.
As Countess Mont d’Oro foretold, the war cloud grew black, and England, France, and Sardinia made a triple alliance against the aggressions of Russia in the Crimea.
“Admiral,” said Vandemar, “I am going to London to ask the Admiralty for active service.”
“Nonsense,” cried the Admiral. “You stay at home and look after your wife. This is not to be a naval war; this affair is to be fought out on land, and a sailor on land is of no more use than a turtle on its back. Besides,” the Admiral added, “I have arranged matters with the Admiralty. I am ordered to duty at Portsmouth, and I have requested that you should be with me.”
Vandemar saw that it was in vain to protest.
“We shall be very comfortably situated,” said the Admiral. “My son-in-law has resigned his position in the Navy and will at once take up general practice. Our doctor here is too old to go out nights, and John is to step into his shoes. Of course, after getting the best of the highwayman, John will not be afraid to go out late at night, and then, you see, Vandemar, we can run back and forth, and if we have to remain away from home any length of time, Vivienne can stay with Helen. If you are not satisfied with that arrangement, I must say I am.”
As the Admiral had said, the issues of the Crimean war were settled by the Army and not by the Navy. The battle of the Alma; the famous charge of Lord Raglan at Balaklava; the battle of Inkermann, on the night before which ten thousand British soldiers joined in singing “Annie Laurie,” and the siege and fall of Sebastopol followed each other, but not in as quick succession as have the battles in more modern warfare.
“Queen Victoria’s very sick;
Napoleon’s got the measles;
Sebastopol’s not taken yet,
Pop go the weasels.”
The words were those of a popular song; they were sung in a childish treble by a young blue-eyed and fair-haired boy who was playing on the terrace of Noxton Hall. The singer was Victor, the son and heir of John, Earl of Noxton.