“I feel a little faint, Martha. I'll go there; and will you give me a glass of sherry?”
He waited at the room door, while Martha nimbly ran to her room, and returned with some sherry and a wine-glass. He had hardly taken a glass, and begun to feel himself better, when David Arden's step was heard approaching from the hall. He greeted his nephew and Martha in a hushed undertone, as he might in church; and then, as people will enter such rooms, he passed in and crossed with a very soft tread, and said a word or two in whispers. You would have thought that Sir Reginald was tasting the sweet slumber of precarious convalescence, so tremendously does death simulate sleep.
When Uncle David followed his nephew to the oak-room, where the servants had now placed candles, he appeared a little paler, as a man might who had just witnessed an operation. He looked through the unclosed shutters on the dark scene; then he turned, and placed his hand kindly on his nephew's arm, and said he, with a sigh—
“Well, Dick, you're the head of the house now; don't run the old ship on the rocks. Remember, it is an old name, and, above all, remember, that Alice is thrown upon your protection. Be a good brother, Dick. She is a true-hearted, affectionate creature: be you the same to her. You can't do your duty by her unless you do it also by yourself. For the first time in your life, a momentous responsibility devolves upon you. In God's name, Dick, give up play and do your duty!”
“I have learned a lesson, uncle; I have not suffered in vain. I'll never take a dice-box in my hand again; I'd as soon take a burning coal. I shall never back a horse again while I live. I am quite cured, thank God, of that madness. I sha'n't talk about it; let time declare how I am changed.”
“I am glad to hear you speak so. You are right, that is the true test. Spoken like a man!” said Uncle David, and he took his hand very kindly.
The entrance of Martha Tansey at this moment gave the talk a new turn.
“By-the-bye, Martha,” said he, “has Mr. Plumes come? He said he would be here at eight o'clock.”
“He's waitin', Sir; and 'twas to tell you so I came in. Shall I tell him to come here?”
“I asked him to come, Dick; I knew you would allow me. He has some information to give me respecting the wretch who murdered your poor Uncle Harry.”