Maurice at that moment was in no humor for making love himself—his thoughts were absorbed by his sisters’ peril, and their escape; the crowd was irksome to him; his feelings wanted a higher and better outlet than the idle gossip and careless chatter around; he could not hear the subject lightly discussed, with even outward calmness; and now, reassured by a recent report from Dr. Pilgrim, that both patients were doing as well as possible, he quietly stole away into the shrubbery, and then retraced, with thoughtful step and swelling heart, the path along which he had borne his sister’s inanimate form.
He reached the spot where the accident had occurred, he saw the marks on the bank, he gazed at the dark, still, sullen-looking water, whose black depth had so nearly been the grave of those two loved ones; and lifting his hat from his head, he raised his whole heart in grateful praise, that she, the light, the support, the comfort of their home, and that little one, whose merry voice always spoke of mirth and love, had been spared to bless them still.
He was roused by a footstep; his hands were grasped by Captain Hepburn; and warm, earnest, deeply heart-felt congratulations were poured out to him on his sister’s safety.
“My dear fellow! I can not speak my joy—they say she is doing well! have you seen her yet?” continued he, eagerly.
Maurice answered he had not.
“They insist on perfect quiet at present, and then, Dr. Pilgrim says, all will be well; but, Hepburn, how can I thank you enough for this additional benefit—dearer, more precious far than my own life? I wish I could speak—”
Maurice could not quite control his voice, and was obliged to break off abruptly.
“I did not save Hilary,” replied he; “thank Mr. Huyton for that!”
“You did what I am certain Hilary will thank you for more than for her own life—you saved Nest; and I think she will feel as I do; although she may not have so entire an appreciation of your motives as I have.”
“My motives were simple enough,” said Captain Hepburn, after a little pause; “I felt I might trust her to the exertions of Mr. Huyton, at least, till I had placed the child in safety; and Nest’s struggles made it difficult to do any thing for either while Hilary retained her grasp on her clothes.”