‘Hush!’ he said. ‘An old scarecrow and that beautiful young creature!’ and he laughed.
‘You won’t be an old scarecrow long.’
‘No,’ he said in an ominous way, and cut short the discussion by going back to Mrs. Fordyce.
He was worn out, had a bad night, and did not get up to breakfast; I was waiting for it in the sitting-room, when Mr. Fordyce came in after matins with Emily and Martyn.
‘I feel just like David when they brought him the water of Bethlehem,’ he said. ‘You know I think this all nonsense, especially this—this ghost business; and yet, such—such doings as your brother’s can’t go for nothing.’
His face worked, and the tears were in his eyes; then, as he partook of our breakfast, he cross-examined us on my statement, and even tried to persuade us that the phantom in the ruin was Emily; and on her observing that she could not have seen herself, he talked of the Brocken Spectre and fog mirages; but we declared the night was clear, and I told him that all the rational theories I had ever heard were far more improbable than the appearance herself, at which he laughed. Then he scrupulously demanded whether this—this (he failed to find a name for it) would be an impoverishment of our family, and I showed how Clarence had provided that we should be in as easy circumstances as before. In the midst came in Clarence himself, having hastened to dress, on hearing that Mr. Fordyce was in the house, and looking none the better for the exertion.
‘Look here, my dear boy,’ said Frank, taking his hot trembling hand, ‘you have put me in a great fix. You have done the noblest deed at a terrible cost, and whatever I may think, it ought not to be thrown away, nor you be hindered from freeing your soul from this sense of family guilt. But here, my forefathers had as little right to the Chantry as yours, and ever since I began to think about such things, I have been thankful it was none of mine. Let us join in giving it or its value to some good work for God—pour it out to the Lord, as we may say. Bless me! what have I done now.’
For Clarence, muttering ‘thank you,’ sank out of his grasp on a chair, and as nearly as possible fainted; but he was soon smiling and saying it was all relief, and he felt as if a load he had been bearing had been suddenly removed.
Frank Fordyce durst stay no longer, but laid his hand on Clarence’s head and blessed him.