Chapter Forty Seven.
Almost Soldiers.
I awoke that next morning sore, miserable, and seeing everything through the very reverse of rose-coloured spectacles. For I was back at the Fort, and it now looked a very different place to the home I had journeyed so many months to find when I was sanguine and hopeful.
There appeared to be a dead weight upon me; and as I first opened my eyes, I felt as if the best thing I could do would be to rouse up Esau, and go right away. But as I looked round, my eyes lit upon Mr Gunson lying insensible in his bed, with Mrs Dean seated patiently by his side, and I felt ashamed of my thoughts, for I could not go away and leave one who had shown himself so true a friend from our first meeting, and I at once determined, no matter how painful my position might be, to stay by his side, and tend him till he grew strong again.
I shivered as I thought this, for I could just see his pale face below his bandaged head, and the ideas came—suppose he does not recover—never grow strong again? suppose he dies? The weak tears rose to my eyes at the thought, and I lay wistfully gazing at him in the silence of that bright morning, for I felt that I should be almost alone out there in that wild, new country. For Mr and Mrs John would certainly be more and more influenced by Mr Raydon; and as I could not stay at the Fort, I should never see them. The old plans of staying with them, and building up a new house somewhere in one of the lovely spots by the river, were gone, and I told myself that I should soon have to say good-bye to them.
There would be Esau, though;—perhaps not: for Mrs Dean would naturally want to stay where there were women; and as she had become attached to Mrs John, the chances were that she would stay at or near the Fort, and that would influence Esau, who would be forgiven by Mr Raydon, and stay too, while I should go off into the wilderness all alone.
Taken altogether, I was about as miserable and full of doleful ideas as a boy of my age could be. Not one bit of blue sky could I see through the clouds that shut in my future; and I was growing worse as I lay there with an indistinct fancy that I had heard Mr Raydon’s voice in the night, when a bright ray of sunshine came through the window, and made a ruddy golden spot on the pine-wood ceiling.
It was only a ray of light, but it worked wonders, for it changed the current of my thoughts, setting me thinking that the sun was just peeping over the edge of the mountain lying to the east, and brightening the mists that lay in the valleys, and making everything look glorious as it chased away the shadows from gully and ravine, till it shone full upon the river, and turned its grey waters into dazzling, rippling, and splashing silver.
I don’t know how it was, but that sunlight began to drive away the mists and dark vapours in my mind. I did not feel so miserable, though I was painfully stiff and sore. The future was bright, my case not so hopeless, and I was just making up my mind that Esau would never forsake me, and that Mr Gunson would not die, when Mrs Dean looked round.