Before long the fire was blazing, and Martin crouched at it warming his hands and knees. His face relaxed whilst that of Walter became lined with anxiety. As he was thus seated, Jasper came on him carrying a blanket. He was dismayed at what his brother had done, and reproached him.
Martin shrugged his shoulders. ‘It is very well for you in a dry house, on a feather bed and between blankets, but very ill for poor me, condemned to live like a wild beast. You should have felt my hands before I had a fire to thaw them at, they were like the cold mutton I had for my dinner.’
‘Martin, you must put that fire out. You have acted with extreme indiscretion.’
‘Spare me your reproaches; I know I am indiscreet. It is my nature, as it lies in the nature of a lion to be noble, and of a dog to be true.’
‘Really,’ said Jasper, hotly, disturbed out of his usual equanimity by the folly of his brother, ‘really, Martin, you are most aggravating. You put me to great straits to help you, and strain to the utmost my relations to the Jordan family. I do all I can—more than I ought—for you, and you wantonly provoke danger. Who but you would have had the temerity to return to this neighbourhood after your escape and my accident! Then—why do you remain here? I cannot believe in your illness. Your lack of common consideration is the cause of incessant annoyance to your friends. That fire shall go out.’ He went to it resolutely, and kicked it apart, and threw some of the flaming oak sticks over the edge of the precipice.
‘I hope you are satisfied now,’ said Martin sulkily. ‘You have spoiled my pleasure, robbed me of my only comfort, and have gained only this—that I wash my hands of you, and will leave this place to-night. I will no longer remain near you—inhuman, unbrotherly as you are.’
‘I am very glad to hear that you are going,’ answered Jasper. ‘You shall have my horse. That horse is my own, and he will carry you away. Send Walter for it when you like. I will see that the stable-door is open, and the saddle and bridle handy. The horse is in a stable near the first gate, away from the house, and can be taken unobserved.’
‘You are mightily anxious to be rid of me,’ sneered Martin. ‘And this is a brother!’
‘I had brought you a blanket off my own bed, because I supposed you were cold.’
‘I will not have it,’ said Martin sharply. ‘If you shiver for want of your blanket I shall be blamed. Your heart will overflow with gall against poor me. Keep your blanket to curl up in yourself. I shall leave to-night. I have too much proper pride to stay where I am not wanted, with a brother who begrudges me a scrap of fire.’