Mr. Trevor's words, spoken in cruel levity, with reference to his eldest son, became verified in a manner not often found precedented in the course of the world's history. The body of the unfortunate Henry Trevor was brought home one morning to his father's house, it having been found lying on the road, where, on returning home the night before in a state of intoxication—a vice to which he had been unhappily addicted—he had been thrown from his horse, and, as it appeared, killed upon the spot.
And Eustace Trevor stood in that brother's place—eldest son, and heir to all that would have been his!
It is not often that such instances are afforded us in the order of God's dealings; instances which, to our blind sight, cannot but appear wisely and providentially appointed.
We would fain cut down the barren tree, that the good and fruitful may flourish in its room. But the husbandman wills it not. We would fain root out the tares: but he orders that they should flourish on. The evil weeds grow apace; whilst too often the flower withers, and fades ere it be yet noon.
But here men said all was right. Poor Henry Trevor! removed from a sphere in which he could never have played but so ignoble a part; making room for one of whom none could desire better to fill his place, as heir and future representative of a house and family of such wealth and consideration as that of Trevor, and so noble and brilliant a successor to its present miserly head.
Few in any way acquainted with Eustace's superiority of character, hesitated to look upon the death of the first-born but as a source of congratulation rather than of condolence to the new heir, and to posterity. So do men err in their calculations of good and evil!
Little did they know the wild heritage of woe this seeming good did bring about! Seldom has the death of an unlamented eldest son proved so direful in its consequences.
The catastrophe in question, of course interrupted, for a while, the intended ordination of Eustace Trevor. It was naturally supposed that no further thought would be entertained of his entering the Church, either by himself or family. Indeed, we will not say but that his change of circumstances altered also, in some degree, his own ideas upon the subject.
New prospects, new duties, new spheres of action for his transcendant talents, seemed to open before his view. Even Mrs. Trevor might have seemed tacitly to bend to the new position of circumstances. It was, however, difficult for the son to gain any insight into the wishes of his father upon the subject; for some time after his brother's death he was denied all access to that parent's presence: Mr. Trevor's vindictive feeling against his second son not suffering him to bear the sight of him in the new position he now was placed.
No one, indeed, save Eugene and Marryott, from this time were suffered often to approach him. The former, from the period recorded in the last chapter, spent much of his time at Montrevor; his favour and influence with his father increasing day by day. At this treatment, Eustace could be neither much astonished or grieved. For his mother's sake alone did he ever make Montrevor his abode, and her failing health, which had received a further shock from the violent end of her unfortunate son, drew him more anxiously than ever to her side.