Prescott went with Captain Bradshaw and Alice Heathcote as far as the street in which the Holls lived, the carriage waiting in Sloane Street until wanted. Then Prescott pointed out the house, and asked the others to wait near for a few minutes until he should summon them. He then lifted the latch and went in.
“I am back sooner than I expected, Mrs. Holl. Do not leave, James,” as the boy was preparing to wheel himself away; “I wish you to hear what I have to say. James, it must, no doubt, have often seemed hard to you that you should have no one in the world with whom you are really connected, whose care and love you had a right to claim.”
“Sometimes it has, sir,” the cripple said quietly, “but I need not have thought so. No one could have loved me more or have been kinder to me than mother and father here,” and he took Mrs. Holl’s hand in his.
“Yes, James, you have been indeed fortunate in that respect, but others might have, perhaps, had it in their power to lighten your life more, to have taken you to see the world, and the wonders and beauties of it.”
The lad’s eyes brightened.
“They might, sir, and I own—it is wrong and sinful perhaps—but the one thing I have always longed for was to see the country, and the wide fields and the green trees I have read of, and above all to see the sea, the great moving infinite sea. Oh, how glorious it must be! But there, sir,” he said, resuming his quiet manner, “it wasn’t to be, you know, and it is not for me to complain. Why do you ask such questions, sir?”
“I will tell you, James,” and here Prescott went slowly and plainly through the narrative of the quarrel of James’s mother with her father, of her flight, and of the treachery of Barton in concealing the fact of his existence from Captain Bradshaw.
The cripple listened to it all with greater composure than Mrs. Holl did. Only when Prescott described the emotion of Captain Bradshaw did he appear affected.
“It is a strange story, sir,” he said when Prescott had finished, “and I am very glad to hear my poor mother was forgiven. For myself, sir, it makes but little difference. I am not like other men; still it will be a pleasure to me to be able to have what books I like, and to see for the first time the world. After what you have told me of my grandfather, I shall be glad if only for his sake. Had he been a cold, proud man, who would have been ashamed of his cripple relative, I would have remained here, where all have been so kind to me. My real father and mother are here.”
“Don’t think of us, James,” Mrs. Holl said, crying; “John and me will be only too glad to know you have doctors and comforts, and change of air, such as we could not give you. No, don’t you worry yourself about us, James.”