There was no one in the hall, and when she reached the middle, she paused. "Shall I leave him?" she asked herself, "Leave him because he means and speaks kindly--leave him because I cannot bear to hear my own folly breathed,--leave him?--Oh no!" and with a movement as sudden, but with a downcast eye and burning cheek, she returned, and seated herself near in silence, gazing upon the ground.
"Helen," said the old Commander, "I have grieved you. Come hither, and forgive me."
She sprang towards him, and, casting herself on her knees by the bed-side, covered her aching eyes with her hands, exclaiming, "Oh, no, no! It is I who need forgiveness; not you. Do not speak so kindly, Sir, do not speak so gently; for it goes farther to break my heart, than all your sister's harshness."
"Hush, hush!" said the old soldier, "Do not move me, there's a good girl. But listen to me, Helen, for I wish you well, and you have been tender and affectionate to me this day, when I have much needed it.--I am a rough old man, Helen, and know not how to speak gently. But I would fain talk to you about yourself, before I depart from this place. Listen to me then, and do not think I mean anything but kindness. I hear that my sister has been hard upon you,--driven you out of her house,--given you harsh names.--Nay never shake so.--She is a bitter woman, Helen, to all faults but her own; and I am sure if you have any, they have been but too much gentleness.--Why, I remember you as a little child in your good father's time.--There now, you weep! I know not how to speak to you.--But never mind, I'll talk no more about yourself. But whatever be your faults, Helen, take my advice. Go to your uncle, tell him all. He will forgive you; for he is a good man at heart, and loves you; and besides,--"
"Oh, no, no!" cried Helen, "I cannot go to him, for his look would kill me.--Rose, so kind and good, so gentle to the faults of others, she too, persuaded me to go to him: but you do not know him. He is good and kind, and loves me well, it is true; but he is not forgiving.--Besides, how can I go there? How can I see him without meeting,--" and she gave a quick shudder, without concluding the sentence.
"Ay," said the wounded man, "that must be thought of. But all this is partly your uncle's own fault, Helen. I warned him when he put you with my sister, that he was giving his dove to a vulture. I told him it would be your ruin; but none of those people heeded the old soldier. They followed their own plans, and thought plain truth, foolishness.--Hark! do you not hear horses? It is good old Estoc, come to see his dying leader."
The next moment, there was a knock at the chamber door, and before any one could say, "Come in," it opened, and the tall bony figure of Estoc, clothed in armour, such as was worn in that day, but with the head-piece laid aside, appeared striding up with his wide steps to the bed-side of the wounded Commander.
"How goes it, Sir?" he cried, "how goes it?"
"Fast, Estoc, fast!" answered the old knight. "I am glad you have come, for there is much to talk about before I go. Helen, dear child, run away for a while; and take some repose and refreshment, for you have scarcely tasted aught since I have been here. She has been an angel to me, Estoc,--like my own child."
"Thank you, Mademoiselle, thank you," cried Estoc, taking her hand and kissing it, while she turned away her head, "God will bless you for it!"