"Not now." And there was a deep note of melancholy in Wyndham's voice. "You can see, it's a ruin; but before it was a ruin I lived here with my mother and youngest brother, Archie. He's gone—now."
"Gone?"
Wyndham nodded, and Paul understood too well what "gone" meant. Wyndham's brother was dead; but he wondered what his death could have to do with the ruined house. There was a painful silence between them for some moments.
"I think you said you were going to Redmead?"
"Yes; Oakville, that's the house I want."
"I know it. Mr. Moncrief lives there. He's a big man at Chatham Dockyard, and has a lot to do with the defences of the Medway and the Thames, so I've heard. He designs things, too, for the Admiralty. I'm going partly that way if you don't mind walking with a Beetle."
Paul laughed, and remarked that he could put up for once with a Beetle if the Beetle could put up with a Gargoyle.
So they started together, and Wyndham told Paul by the way the reason of the ruined house.
His father and mother had taken the house soon after they were married. He, Gilbert, was born there; so was his younger brother Archie. Three years after the birth of Archie, God visited upon them a great misfortune by calling to Himself Mr. Wyndham. Gilbert had by this time started on his school career, for he was several years older than his brother. The second misfortune occurred while he was away at school, three years after the death of his father.
Little Archie was the idol of his mother, and a great pet with old Martha, the housekeeper, who had been in the household ever since the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Wyndham. Early one morning Mrs. Wyndham awoke with a feeling of suffocation. On looking, half dazed, around the bedroom, she found it full of smoke. Her first thought was of Archie. She made her way to his bed. It was empty! She went to the landing; that was full of smoke also. She called for her boy. No answer came. The bewildered mother imagined that he must have escaped from the burning house while she slept.