The young man gazed upon his parent's face for several moments with a look of sad, stern thought, while the servants and labourers who were present drew back as soon as they perceived who it was that interrupted them in their melancholy task. As he gazed, many memories crowded on him; paternal tenderness and affection, innumerable sweet domestic scenes, words spoken long ago, kindly looks and tones of love; and with that sad feeling which ever takes possession of the bosom, when with any of the near and dear the silver chain is broken, the tears rose up into Edgar Adelon's eyes, and fell upon the dead man's hand.
He wished not to be seen to weep; and turning away without a word, he gave one hand to Eda, and the other to Dudley, who had been standing close behind him, and with them left the chamber of the dead.
CHAPTER XLV.
Six or eight hours before Brandon had been one of the most convenient and comfortable houses in the whole county. Everything about it had displayed that aspect of ancient and undiminished respectability and wealth which, thirty years ago, was the general characteristic of the English gentleman's country seat; and now, when Edgar Adelon, with Eda and Dudley, entered the hall, although the fire had never reached that floor, and had but partially destroyed the floor above, the scene of confusion and disarray left in the mansion scarcely a trace of its former self. Large quantities of furniture, books, chests of papers, valuable pictures, and objects of art, were piled up, without order or regularity, in the hall and the various rooms around it, and streams of water were flowing over the marble pavement of the vestibule, and soaking the thick carpets of the drawing-room, the library, and the dining-room.
Of all seasons, when the empty-minded and the selfish-hearted, who are inherently bores at all times, are the most oppressive, the season of grief and anxiety is foremost. At other moments we are obliged to tolerate them, as one of the evils of a high state of refinement. Do not let any one suppose this a paradox; for there is no doubt of the fact, that as "the sun breeds maggots in a dead dog," (I do not know that I quote very accurately), so a refined state of society generates both empty heads and cold hearts. At other times, I say, we bear them as one of the evils of our social state; but then they become perfectly intolerable. We find, then, that there are human beings in every outward form and lineament like ourselves, who, nevertheless, are not of our nature, nor, apparently, of our race; we feel, or we fancy, that monkeys might be princes amongst them.
Eda had a great deal to suffer from creatures of this kind during that day. The peer, and the baronet, and the wealthy esquire, had returned from their several occupations in time to witness the conflagration at Brandon; and after having taken care of their horses and their carriages, and all their other effects, they had gathered together to interrupt the servants and country people by giving assistance. As soon as they saw Eda, however, enter the house with her cousin and Mr. Dudley, they found it courteous to go in and condole with her; and although she bore the infliction with wonderful patience, Edgar did not approach by any means so near to the character of Job.
One or two of his brisk sayings soon scattered the party, and after having, in a very polite manner, ascertained that the fire was entirely extinguished, the three gentlemen I have mentioned took their leave, got their carriages and horses, and departed. Dudley made no show of going, for he knew that he should still be a welcome guest; and Captain M---- also remained, though not till he had received a pressing request from Edgar to do so.
"We can put you up somewhere," he said; "and there are things to be investigated, in which, perhaps, you can help me. Stay with us here in the library, M----, now that those tiresome people are away, and let me inquire how this fire originated in reality, and how my poor father met with his death. I do not understand all this," he added, solemnly and sternly. "There is no trace of fire upon my father's person. I have strange suspicions; and before I give way to grief I must think of justice. I must see the people who first entered his room;" and going to the door, he gave orders to one of the servants in the hall to bring all those who had been present at the early part of the catastrophe into the library.
"This is a sad business for us all, dear Eda," he said, turning towards his cousin, who was seated in the recess of one of the windows, from time to time wiping the tears from her eyes. "Your beautiful place is well nigh destroyed."
"Would I could repair your loss, Edgar," replied Eda, "as easily as mine can be repaired."