“How vexatious!” cried our aunt. “Go,” she added to Prabu, the slave, who had just entered the tent with some message, “carry the foolish girl to her maid.”
What a feeling arose in my heart at these words. As for Martin, with flashing eyes, he said, savagely, “Foolish—she is not foolish; she is as brave and good as an angel. It is you who are wicked.”
“Martin!” exclaimed our father, sternly, reproachfully; and although in a storm of passion, habitual obedience to a beloved parent at once silenced my brother. Better, perhaps, had he been permitted to give vent to his almost justifiable wrath, for feelings akin to hatred seized upon his heart, never to be removed; but, then, in his behalf, I must admit that other matters arose afterwards to fan the flame.
This mishap broke up the party, but, most vexatiously to my brother and me, our father, taking us to his own apartments, detained us with him the rest of the day, for fear that Martin, while in his angry mood, should come in contact with “my lady.” “For with your aunt, Martin,” he said, “I would not now trust you alone. Your hasty temper would probably lead you into some disrespectful act, that might be of material injury to your future prospects, for as yet we know not to what extent she may have power over us all. To-morrow I shall not be so ignorant, for then I intend to examine my poor brother’s will.”
“Bother the will and the money, too,” replied Martin, hastily, “if they are to prevent a fellow from defending those who have saved his life. Besides, father, I want to know whether cousin Marie has recovered.”
“Well, well, my dear boy, you are a noble fellow, but with a temper that may get you into difficulties if not kept in check. As for your cousin, rest contented; she is well by this time. It was only a fainting-fit.”
“But, father, I want to know that, or I sha’n’t sleep a wink.”
“Tut, tut!” replied my father. “Rest contented till the morning; but now get you to your own room, for it is time all honest people were in bed.”
We obeyed, but not to sleep; our minds were too full of the event of the day, our anxiety too great about our cousin. For an hour or two, indeed, till darkness (which comes so suddenly in the East) had set in, we sat pondering, when Martin said, “I won’t go to bed until I know whether our cousin has recovered, and that’s flat.”
“But how are we to find out?”