“Yes, the Highflyer, the best drag on the road,” returned Lawless; “takes you to town in five hours, and does the thing well too.”
“I must go by that then,” replied I.
“What can I do to help you?” asked Coleman.
“If you would put a few things into my bag for me, while I speak to the Doctor,” rejoined I.
“I will go and get a fly for you,” said Lawless, “and then I can pick out a nag that will move his pins a bit; that will save you ten minutes, and you have no time to lose.”
On acquainting Dr. Mildman with the sad intelligence I had received, and the necessity which existed for me to depart immediately, he at once gave me his permission to do so; and, after speaking kindly to me, and showing the deepest sympathy for my distress, said he would not detain me longer, as I must have preparations to make, but should like to see me the last thing before I started, and wish me good-bye.
I found, on reaching my own room, my carpet-bag already packed: Coleman and Thomas (whose honest face wore an expression of genuine commiseration) having exerted themselves to save me all trouble on that head. Nothing, therefore, remained for me to do, but to take leave of my fellow-pupils and Dr. Mildman. After shaking hands with Lawless and Mullins (the former assuring me, as he did so, that I was certain not to be late, for he had succeeded in securing a trap, with a very spicy little nag in it, which would have me there in no time) I hastened to take leave of my tutor. The kindhearted Doctor inquired whether I had sufficient money for my journey, and, begging me to write him word how I got home, shook me warmly by the hand, saying, as he did so, “God bless you, my boy! I trust you may find your father better; but if this should not be the case, remember whose hand it is inflicts the blow, and strive to say, 'Thy will be done'. We shall have you among us again soon, I hope; but should anything prevent your return, I wish you to know that I am perfectly satisfied with the progress you have made in your studies; and, in other respects, you have never given me a moment's uneasiness since you first entered my house. Once more, good-bye; and remember, if ever you should want a friend, you will find one in Samuel Mildman.”
The fly-horse proved itself deserving of Lawless's panegyric, and I arrived at the coach-office in time to secure a seat outside the Highflyer. After taking an affectionate leave of Oaklands and Coleman, who had accompanied me, I ascended to my place; the coachman mounted his box, exactly as the clock chimed the halfhour the horses sprang forward with a bound, and ere ten minutes had elapsed Helmstone lay at least a couple of miles behind us.
I accomplished my journey more quickly than I had deemed possible, and had the melancholy satisfaction of reaching home in time to receive my father's blessing. The powerful remedies to which they had been obliged to have recourse had produced their effect; the inflammation was subdued; but the struggle had been protracted too long, and his constitution, already enfeebled by a life of constant labour and self-denial, was unable to rally.
Having given me a solemn charge to cherish and protect my mother and sister, he commended us all to the care of Him who is emphatically termed “the God of the fatherless and widow”; and then, his only earthly care being ended, he prepared to meet Death, as those alone can do to whom “to die is gain”. When the last beam of the setting sun threw a golden tint around the spire of the little village church those lips which had so often breathed the words of prayer and praise within its sacred walls were mute for ever, and the gentle spirit which animated them had returned to God who gave it!