"My poor child! How thin thou art grown—how haggard you look! Never mind. A mother's care will make thee well again. 'Twas nobly done to go and brave sickness and danger in search of your brother. Had others been as faithful, he might be here now. Never mind, my Harry; our hero will come back to us. I know he is not dead. He will come back to us, I know he will come." And when Harry pressed her to give a reason for her belief, she said she had seen her father two nights running in a dream, and he had told her that her boy was a prisoner among the Indians.
Madame Esmond's grief had not prostrated her as Harry's had when first it fell upon him; it had rather stirred and animated her; her eyes were eager, her countenance angry and revengeful. The lad wondered almost at the condition in which he found his mother.
But when he besought her to go downstairs, and give her a hand of welcome to George Washington, who had accompanied him, the lady's excitement painfully increased. She said she should shudder at touching his hand. She declared Mr. Washington had taken her son from her; she could not sleep under the same roof with him.
"No gentleman," cried Harry, warmly, "was ever refused shelter under my grandfather's roof."
"Oh, no, gentlemen!" exclaims the little widow; "well let us go down, if you like, son, and pay our respects to this one. Will you please to give us your arm?" and taking an arm which was very little able to give her support, she walked down the broad stairs and into the apartment where the Colonel sat.
She made him a ceremonious curtsey, and extended one of the little hands, which she allowed for a moment to rest in his. "I wish that our meeting had been happier, Colonel Washington," she said.
"You do not grieve more than I do that it is otherwise, Madame," said the Colonel.
"I might have wished that the meeting had been spared, that I might not have kept you from friends whom you are naturally anxious to see, that my boy's indisposition had not detained you. Home and his good nurse Mountain, and his mother and our good Dr. Dempster will soon restore him. 'Twas scarce necessary, Colonel, that you who have so many affairs on your hands, military and domestic, should turn doctor too."
"Harry was ill and weak, and I thought it was my duty to ride by him," faltered the Colonel.
"You yourself, sir, have gone through the fatigues and dangers of the campaign in the most wonderful manner," said the widow, curtseying again, and looking at him with her impenetrable black eyes.