CHAPTER VII
THE PARTING
THROUGH the still night Lyddon could hear plainly the sound of a sailboat making the little wharf which ran into the broad river at the foot of the lawn. Richard, hatless, bolted out of the room, and Lyddon putting up the window saw his dark figure running swiftly like a shadow to the wharf. It was then after two o’clock in the morning. The night was murky and the fitful wind swept the storm clouds wildly back and forth. Upon the black river lay an outline like the ghost of a small sailboat moored to the wharf. In a moment more Richard and Neville were standing together. By that time the whole house was aroused, and Lyddon could hear footsteps moving overhead. He picked up a candle and going into the hall lighted the lamps which stood on the corners of the mantel. In a little while Colonel Tremaine with Mrs. Tremaine was seen coming downstairs. Colonel Tremaine had hurriedly flung some clothes on, and Mrs. Tremaine was helping him into his coat. Behind them came Angela with her long crimson mantle thrown over her hastily assumed gown, her beautiful hair in disorder and hanging down her back. Archie, the last to awaken, was heard calling out of the window to his brothers. The side door to the hall opened, and Neville with Richard walked in. Mrs. Tremaine with a cry of rapture ran toward him.
“My son, my dearest son,” she cried, unconsciously admitting the truth that this son was dearer to her than the others. Neville kissed his mother tenderly, and then, as if he were a little boy once more, threw his arms around Colonel Tremaine’s neck and kissed him on the cheek. Colonel Tremaine embraced him in return. He loved these demonstrations of affection from his children, and was proud that in manhood they were still observed. Neville kissed Angela on the forehead and then Archie came tumbling downstairs and the two brothers embraced.
“How did you come at this time of night?” asked Colonel Tremaine.
“In a sailboat from Fort Monroe,” replied Neville smiling. “You see, I haven’t forgotten how to manage a boat. We heard yesterday morning that the State had seceded, and I got twenty-four hours leave to come home. The best way to get here was to sail up York River, and I was certain of finding a wind until I got near enough to Harrowby to land in case the wind should fail, but luckily it brought me up to the wharf in less than five hours. I must not take any chances, however, and can only remain two hours.”
A chill seemed to fall upon the air as Neville spoke. His words were capable of but one meaning.
“Two hours, did you say?” asked Colonel Tremaine with a sudden rigidity of face and figure.
“Yes, sir,” replied Neville quietly. “I must then return to my command. I came to tell you and my mother that I have thought over it, sir, as you taught me to think over all great matters with a view to finding out the honorable course to pursue. I think it my duty under my oath to remain in the United States Army.”
The thunderbolt had fallen; a dreadful silence prevailed. Mrs. Tremaine, who was standing with her hand upon Neville’s arm, tightened her clasp, and Neville turned away from his mother’s tragic eyes. Colonel Tremaine opened his lips once or twice as if to speak, but no words came, and Neville continued in a voice a little shaken from its first firmness:
“I know what this means to you and my mother and to everybody I love. I hardly think you know what it means to me.”