Steve that evening sent Jacquelin a letter intended to meet him on the arrival of his vessel, telling him of his mother’s declining health and urging him to hasten home. He also wrote to the head of the school where Rupert was.
CHAPTER XXII
JACQUELIN GRAY COMES HOME AND CLAIMS A GRAVEYARD
When Jacquelin Gray returned home, his arrival was wholly unexpected. His ship had reached port only a few days before and he had planned to take his friends by surprise, and, without giving any notice, had at once started for home. He would hardly have been known for the same man: in place of the pallid and almost bed-ridden invalid who had been borne away on a stretcher a year or two back, appeared a vigorous, weather-browned man, almost as stalwart as Steve himself. The first to recognize him was Waverley, who had been sent to the railroad by Mrs. Gray to try and get news of him.
“Well b’fo’ de Lord!” exclaimed the old man, “ef dat ain’t!—” He paused and took another scrutinizing look, and, with a bound forward, broke out again. “Marse Jack, you done riz f’um de dead. Ef I didn’ think ’twas my ole marster—er de Injun-Killer. Bless de Lord!—you’s jest in time. My mistis sen’ me down fur a letter—she say she ’bleeged to have a letter to-day. But dis de bes’ letter could ’a’ come in dis wull fur her. Yas, suh, she’ll git well now.” He took in the whole crowd confidentially. He was wringing Jacquelin’s hand in an ecstasy of joy, and the welcome of the others was not less warm, if less voluble. Under it all, however, was something that struck Jacquelin and went to his heart—something plaintive—different from what he had expected. The negroes too had changed. The hearty laughter had given place to something that had the sound of bravado in it. The shining teeth were not seen as of old. Old Waverley’s words sent a chill through him. What could they mean?
How was his mother? And aunt—and all the others?—at Birdwood and everywhere? he asked.
His mistress had been “mighty po’ly, mighty po’ly indeed,” the old servant said. “Been jes’ pinin’ fur you to git back. What meck you stay so long, Marse Jack? Hit must be a long ways ’roun de wull? But she’ll be all right now. De Doctor say you de bes’ physic she could git. All de others is well.”
“And all at Birdwood?” asked Jacquelin.