"I have just received a letter from my son, Colonel Carron," he said, in a voice perhaps a trifle too unnaturally even and unmoved. "The boys, I am sorry to say, have met with a misfortune." Gracie's heart sank, and braced itself as best it could for the worst. "It is not, however, as bad as it might be." Her heart gave a hopeful kick. "They are both prisoners in the hands of the Russians, and one of them is wounded again; but, so far, he has not been able to ascertain which. That is all; but I thought it better to let you know the full extent of the matter. The newspaper accounts are so garbled at times that one is apt to get wrong impressions. When you come across their names among the missing, you will understand. It does not necessarily mean anything more than I have told you. In fact"--with an appreciative pinch of snuff--"it may well be that they are safer inside Sebastopol than outside."
"Prisoners!" jerked Gracie. "Will they be well treated?"
"Oh yes; I should say so. The rank and file of the Russian army are doubtless somewhat boorish, but their officers are civilised--gentlemanly, indeed, I believe, if you don't go too far down. I do not think you need fear any ill-treatment for them, Miss Gracie. It is annoying, of course, not to know which of them is wounded, and to what extent. But the authorities will, no doubt, do their best to ascertain, and we may hear shortly."
"I am inclined to think with you, sir, that they will probably be safer inside than outside," said Eager thoughtfully. "From all accounts, the state of things in the camps is awful."
"Extremely British," said Sir Denzil. "Matters will improve in time. When the Many-headed One awakes to the fact that all this waste and misery are quite unnecessary, it will roar loud enough, I warrant you. Then our men will be properly looked after--that is, if there are any of them left to look after, which seems somewhat doubtful."
"It is shameful!" broke out Gracie, with vehemence. "I wish I could have gone with Miss Nightingale to help them."
"You would have died of atrophy and paralysis, my dear, if you had come in contact with the red-tape of the services. If Miss Nightingale succeeds in her mission she will be the one woman in ten million, and will deserve well of her country."
And so they were left in doubt and much distress of mind as to the welfare of the boys.
Margaret Herapath, in her deep mourning and her own bitter sorrow, came over to share their anxiety and distress. Her father had suddenly become an old and broken man. Charles Eager was much with him, and he was the only person, outside his own household, whom Sir George cared to see. And Eager, with the wisdom of deepest love and sympathy, let the old man's grief run its course, and then strove to build him up anew by diverting his grief from the one to the many.
Bitter sad times were those in the happy homes of England. Sorrow lay on the land like a chill black frost; but below it were simmering all those forces of passionate indignation which presently rose into that inextinguishable roar which swept men from their high positions, and in time carried somewhat of relief to the remnant of the army before Sebastopol.