That is the story, and it was the battered head of the animal, that Mr. Seymour because of some sentiment had preserved, that now stared at us from above the chamber door.
NOTE.—Mr. Gilbert Holmes, in reviewing this part of his life, thought, for some reason, that the story of the timber-wolf should be omitted; but to this Mrs. Holmes would by no means listen, treasuring every word as if it were Gilbert himself and a part of her life. Because of this I have included it as it was told me, and partly, too, because it explains Mr. Seymour's love for Gilbert as a youth and the great confidence he had in him always. It also illustrates Gilbert's courage, which was so simple and found expression so naturally when anything called it forth that he was never conscious he possessed it, but always spoke of the fear that oppressed him in the emergencies of life, though it was not fear at all, it was apparent, but merely the agitation of a sensitive nature. For of all men, none ever lived who were more brave than he; and it was said of him, and truly, as a general of cavalry in our great war, that no leader pressed forward with such ardor in the charge, and similarly it was told, none gazed upon the empty saddles after the conflict was over with so sorrowful and pitying a heart.—THE AUTHOR.
CHAPTER IX
DRIFTWOOD FROM THE THAMES BATTLEFIELD
While Constance and I stood with clasped hands gazing at the wolf's head, Mr. Seymour entered the room, followed by Uncle Job. At sight of the latter my heart went out to him with tender emotion, and I ran and embraced him as I would a dear friend.
"I hope you find yourself in good spirits, and none the worse for what has happened?" he inquired, affectionately, taking my hands in his and kissing me.
"Gilbert's in fine spirits," Constance spoke up, looking at me as a mother might on a petted child.
"Yes, and I can't thank you enough for what you've done, uncle," I answered.
"Don't talk that way, child, for you owe me nothing," he replied. "I was sorry to leave you in doubt so long, but there was no other way."
"It didn't matter; but I'm afraid I'll be a great burden to you," I answered, remembering what I had thought in regard to this.