“Do not forget to thank Him, whose instrument I was, for having so mercifully preserved your life.”
A silent pressure of the hand was the only answer, and we parted for the night.
Owing, probably, to over-fatigue, it was some little time before I went to sleep. As I lay courting the fickle goddess (or god as the case may be, for, mythologically speaking, I believe Somnus was a he), I could not help contrasting my present feelings with those which I had experienced on the first night of my arrival. Then, overcome by the novelty of my situation, filled with a lively dread of my tutor, bullied and despised by my companions, and separated for what I deemed an interminable period from all who were dear to me, my position was far from an enviable one.. Now, how different was the aspect of affairs! With my tutor, who, from an object of dread, had become one of esteem and affection, I had every reason to believe myself a favourite; I was on terms of the closest friendship with those of my companions whose intimacy was best worth cultivating; while with the others I had gained a standing which would effectually prevent their ever venturing seriously to annoy me; and, above all, I had acquired that degree of self-confidence, without which one is alike impotent to choose the good or to refuse the evil. And it was with an honest pride that I reflected, that this improvement in my position was mainly owing to a steady adherence to those principles, which it had been the constant aim of my dear parents to instil into me from my childhood. I fell asleep at last, endeavouring to picture to myself the delight of relating my adventures on my return home; how my mother and sister would shudder over the dangers I had escaped, while my father would applaud the spirit which had carried me through them. The vision was a bright and happy one: would it ever be realised?
To our surprise, we learned the next morning that Dr. Mildman had arrived by the last coach the previous evening, having fortunately met with Cumberland's uncle at his house of business in town, and delivered his nephew into his safe custody without further loss of time. The breakfast passed over without the Doctor making any inquiry how we had amused ourselves during his absence, nor, as may easily be believed, did we volunteer information on the subject. On returning to the pupils' room I found a letter, in my sister's handwriting, lying on the table. With a feeling of dread for which I could not account, I hastened to peruse it. Alas! the contents only served to realise my worst apprehensions. My father's illness had suddenly assumed a most alarming character, inflammation having attacked the lungs with such violence that the most active measures had failed to subdue it, and the physician, whom my mother had summoned on the first appearance of danger, scarcely held out the slightest hope of his recovery. Under these circumstances my mother wished me to return home without loss of time, as my father, before he became delirious, had desired that I might be sent for, expressing himself most anxious to see me; and the letter concluded with a line in my mother's handwriting, exhorting me to make every exertion to reach home without delay, if I wished to find him alive. For a minute or two I sat with the letter still open in my hand, as if stunned by the intelligence I had received; then, recollecting that every instant was of importance, I sprang up, saying, “Where's Dr. Mildman? I must see him directly.”
“My dear Frank, is anything the matter? you are not ill?” inquired Oaklands anxiously.
“You have received some bad news, I am afraid,” said Coleman.
“My father is very ill, dying perhaps,” replied I, while the tears, which I in vain endeavoured to restrain, trickled down my cheeks. After giving way to my feelings for a minute or two, the necessity for action again flashed across me.
“What time is it now?” inquired I, drying my eyes.
“Just ten,” replied Oaklands, looking at his watch.
“There is a coach which starts at the half-hour, is there not?”