"You are quite right, my dear father; I was very selfish not to think of it. Trust me for making my dearest mother as cheerful and as happy as I can. You don't know what a guardian angel the thought of her love has been to me in temptation; and as for Bertie, if ever I thought he was studying himself ill, and not taking the care of himself he ought, or wanted him to take exercise and recreation, when he thought me a great bore, the word mother, made him yield at once."
And Herbert's kindling eye and cheek bore testimony to the truth of his brother's words. His only feeling and exclamation had been, if he might but accompany his father, and save him all the trouble he could; allowing, however, its impossibility, when the circumstances of his still delicate health and the necessity for uninterrupted study, were placed before him.
That visit to Oxford was a proud one for Mr. Hamilton. His sons held that place in the estimation of the professors, superiors, and their fellow-collegians, which their early influences had promised, and which, as the sons of Arthur Hamilton, seemed naturally their own. Percy could so combine firmness in principle, unbending rectitude in conduct, with such a spirit of fun and enjoyment, as rendered him the prime mover of all sports at Oxford, as he had been at Oakwood; and Herbert, though so gentle and retiring as (until Percy's spirit was roused to shield him), gained him many nick-names and many petty annoyances, silently and insensibly won his way, and so bore with the thoughtless, the mirthful, and even the faulty, as at length to gain him the privilege of being allowed to do just as he liked, and win by his extraordinary talents the admiration and love of all the professors with whom he was thrown.
Morton had promised to introduce a person to Mr. Hamilton on his return from Oxford, who, if approved of, would be his willing, his eager assistant, and gladly remain in the island, attending to all that was required in its superintendence, and in the education of young Wilson, till he was old enough and properly fitted to take his father's place. Great, then, was Mr. Hamilton's disappointment, when Morton entered his library according to appointment, but quite alone. Still greater was his astonishment, when he found it was Morton himself, thus eagerly desirous to become his companion, urging his wishes, his motives, Mr. Howard's sanction, with such earnestness, such single-mindedness of purpose, that every objection which, for Morton's own sake, Mr. Hamilton so strenuously brought forward, was overruled; and after a lengthened interview, matters were arranged to the entire satisfaction of both parties. The idea of the companionship and aid of such a friend as Morton bringing as great a relief to both Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, as their acquiescence filled the whole heart of the young missionary with the most unbounded gratitude and joy. He suggested many little things, which, in the agitation of his hasty summons, had escaped his friends, and his whole being seemed transformed from despondency and listlessness to energy and hope. Engrossed as he was, Mr. Hamilton's usual thought for others had not deserted him, and he remarked that one of his household, Robert Langford, so often mentioned, appeared to linger in the library after morning and evening service, as if anxious to speak to him, but failing in courage so to do. He thought, too, that the young man seemed quite altered, dispirited, gloomy, almost wretched at times, instead of the mirthful, happy being he had been before. Determining to give him an opportunity of speaking before his departure, if he wished it, Mr. Hamilton summoned him to arrange, write a list, and pack some books, which Morton had selected to take with him. For some time Robert pursued his work in persevering silence, but at length fixed his eyes on his master with such beseeching earnestness, that Mr. Hamilton inquired the matter at once. It was some time before the young man could sufficiently compose himself to speak with any coherency, but at last Mr. Hamilton gathered the following details.
About five weeks previous (the first day of June) he had been introduced, as he had very often before been, by his master, with certain papers and law articles to convey to Plymouth, and with a pocket book containing thirty pounds, in two ten and two five pound notes, which he had orders to leave at some poor though respectable families, whom Mr. Hamilton was in the habit of occasionally assisting, though they were out of his own domains. The morning he was to have started on this expedition a cousin, whom he had always regarded as a brother, came unexpectedly to see him. He had just arrived at Plymouth from a four years' residence with his regiment in Ireland: and Robert's glee was so great as to require reiterated commands from the steward to take care of the papers, and not stay at his mother's cottage, where he was to take his cousin, later than the afternoon. He lingered so long before he set off from Oakwood, that he gathered up all the papers as quickly as he could, forgot his principal charge, so far at least as not to look to the secure fastening of the pocket-book, and hastened with his cousin through the brushwood and glade we have before mentioned, to his mother's cottage. It was very hot, and the young men, heated and in eager conversation, took off their coats, threw them loosely over their arms, and proceeded on their walk without them, much too engrossed with each other to be aware that, as they carried their coats, it was the easiest and most natural thing possible for all the smaller contents of their pockets to fall out, and if not missed directly, from the winding and rugged wood path, not likely to be found again.
A draught of cider and half an hour's rest at Mrs. Langford's cottage sufficiently revived Robert to resume his coat; he satisfied himself that his packet of papers was secure, and, as he imagined from the feel of another pocket, the pocket-book also.
What, then, was his consternation, when he approached the first house at which he was to leave ten pounds of the money, about twenty miles from Oakwood to discover that the pocket book was gone! and that which, by its feel, he believed to have been it, an old card-case, that his young master Percy had laughingly thrown at him one day after failing in his endeavor to emblazon it, the sticky materials he had used causing it to adhere to whatever it touched, and so preserving it in Robert's pocket, when almost all the other things had fallen out. He racked his memory in vain as to what could have become of it, convinced that he had not left it at Oakwood, as he first sincerely wished that he had. Two or three other things had also disappeared, and it suddenly flashed upon him, that when carrying his coat over his arm they must have fallen out. He cursed his thoughtlessness again and again, and would have retraced his steps immediately, but the papers with which he was intrusted had to be delivered at Plymouth by a certain hour, and he could not do it. The intense heat of the day gave place in the evening to a tremendous storm of thunder and lightning, wind and very heavy rain, which last continued unabated through the night. He returned home, or rather to his mother's cottage, the next day, in a state of mind little removed from distraction; searching the path he had traversed with his cousin in every direction, but only succeeded in finding some worthless trifles, and the pocket-book itself but open and empty; but at a little distance from it one five pound note. In an instant he remembered that in his hurry he had failed to see to its proper fastening: if he had, all would have been right, for the wind and rain would hardly have had power to open it, and disperse its contents. Hour after hour he passed in the vain search for the remainder; the storm had rendered the path more intricate; the ground was slimy, and quantities of dried sticks and broken branches and leaves almost covered it. He told his tale to his mother in the deepest distress; what was he to do? She advised him to tell the steward the whole story, and to request him to keep back the sum she was in the habit of receiving quarterly, till the whole amount could be repaid. Robert obeyed her, but with most painful reluctance, though even then he did not imagine all the misery his carelessness would entail upon him. Morris, as was natural, was exceedingly displeased, and not only reproved him very severely, but let fall suspicions as to the truth of his story: he knew nothing of his cousin, he said, and could not say what company he might have been led into. If the notes had fallen out of his pocket during his walk, they must be found; it was all nonsense that the wind and rain could so have scattered and annihilated them, as to remove all trace of them. He would not say any thing to his master, because it would only annoy him, and the charities he would give himself, not from Mrs. Langford's allowance, but from Robert's own wages, which he should certainly stop till the whole sum was paid; he should take care how he intrusted such a responsible office to him again.
Robert was at first indignant, and violent in his protestations of the truth of his story; but as it got wind in the servants' hall as he found himself suspected and shunned by almost all, as days merged into weeks, and there was no trace of the notes, and Morris and Ellis both united in declaring that, as no strangers passed through that part of the park, if found they must have been heard of, the young man sunk into a state of the most gloomy despondency, longing to tell his kind master the whole tale, and yet, naturally enough, shrinking from the dread of his suspicion of his honesty, as more terrible than all the rest.
But Mr. Hamilton did not suspect him, and so assured him of his firm belief in his truth and innocence, that it was with great difficulty poor Robert refrained from throwing himself at his feet to pour forth his gratitude. He was so severely punished from his heedlessness, that his master would not say much about it, and soon after dismissing him, summoned Morris, and talked with him some time on the subject, declaring he would as soon suspect his own son of dishonesty as the boy who had grown up under his own eye from infancy, and the son of such a mother. It was very distressing for Mrs. Langford certainly, the old steward allowed, and she looked sad enough; but it was no use, he had tried hard enough to prevent his suspicions, but they would come. None but the servants and the woodmen and gardeners went that path, and if the notes had been dropped there, they must have been found; and it was a very hard thing for the other servants, as none knew who might be suspected of appropriating them. His master was much too kind in his opinions, but he must forgive him if he continued to keep a sharp look out after the young man. Morris was very old, and somewhat opinionated; so all that his master could succeed in, was to insist that he should only keep back half of Robert's wages, till the sum was paid.
"Take away the whole, and if he have been unfortunately led into temptation, which I do not believe he has, you expose him to it again," was his judicious command. "It is all right he should return it, even though lost only by carelessness; but I will not have him put to such straits for want of a little money, as must be the case if you deprive him of all his wages; and now, my good Morris, if you can not in conscience repeat my firm opinion of this lad's innocence to the servants, I must do it myself."