"I had promised to break every bone in his skin at our first meeting; and I kept my promise by saving his skin and bones, and life and all."(Puff.)Mrs. Dodd groaned aloud. "I thought it was he," she said faintly. "That tall figure, that haughty grace! But Mrs. Archbold told me positively it was an attendant.""Then she told you a cracker. It was not an attendant, but a madman, and that madman was Alfred Hardie, upon my soul! Our Julia's missing bridegroom."He smoked on in profound silence waiting for her to speak. But she lay back in her chair mute and all relaxed, as if the news had knocked her down.
"Come, now," said Edward at last; "what is to be done? May I tell Julia?
that is the question."
"Not for the world," said Mrs. Dodd, shocked into energy. "Would you blight her young life for ever, as mine is blighted?" She then assured him that, if Alfred's sad state came to Julia's ears, all her love for him would revive, and she would break with Mr. Hurd, and indeed never marry all her life. "I see no end to her misery," continued Mrs. Dodd, with a deep sigh; "for she is full of courage; she would not shrink from a madhouse (why she visits lazar-houses every day); she would be always going to see her Alfred, and so nurse her pity and her unhappy love. No, no; let _me_ be a widow with a living husband, if it is God's will: Ihave had my happy days. But my child she shall not be so withered in the flower of her days for any man that ever breathed; she shall not, I say."The mother could utter no more for emotion.
"Well," said Edward, "you know best. I generally make a mess of it when Idisobey you. But concealments are bad things too. We used to go with our bosoms open. Ah!" (Puff.)"Edward," said Mrs. Dodd, after some consideration, "the best thing is to marry her to Mr. Hurd at once. He has spoken to me for her, and I sounded her.""Has he? Well, and what did she say?""She said she would rather not marry at all, but live and die with me.
Then I pressed her a little, you know. Then she did say she could never marry any but a clergyman, now she had lost her poor Alfred. And then Itold her I thought Mr. Hurd could make her happy, and she would make me happy if she could esteem him; and marry him.""Well, mamma, and what then?""Why then, my poor child gave me a look that haunts me still--a look of unutterable love, and reproach, and resignation, and despair, and burst out crying so piteously I could say no more. Oh! oh! oh! oh!""Don't you cry, mammy dear," said Edward. "Ah, I remember when a tear was a wonder in our house." And the fire-warrior sucked at his cigar, to stop a sigh.
"And n--now n--ot a d--day without them," sighed Mrs. Dodd "But _you_have cost me none, my precious boy.""I'm waiting my time. (Puff.) Mamma, take my advice; don't you fidget so.
Let things alone. Why hurry her into marrying Mr. Hurd or anybody? Look here; I'll keep dark to please you, if you'll keep quiet to please me."At breakfast time came a messenger with a line from Mrs. Archbold, to say that David had escaped from Drayton House, in company with another dangerous maniac.
Mrs. Dodd received the blow with a kind of desperate resignation. She rose quietly from the table without a word, and went to put on her bonnet, leaving her breakfast and the note; for she did not at once see all that was implied in the communication. She took Edward with her to Drayton House. The firemen had saved one half of that building; the rest was a black shell. Mrs. Archbold came to them, looking haggard, and told them two keepers were already scouring the country, and an advertisement sent to all the journals.
"Oh, madam!" said Mrs. Dodd, "if the other should hurt him, or lead him somewhere to his death?"Mrs. Archbold said she might dismiss this fear; the patient in question had but one illusion, and, though terribly dangerous when thwarted in that, was most intelligent in a general way, and much attached to Mr.
Dodd; they were always together."
A strange expression shot into Mrs. Dodd's eye: she pinched Edward's arm to keep him quiet, and said with feigned indifference--"Then it was the one who was in such danger with my husband last night?""Yes," said Mrs. Archbold off her guard. It had not occurred to her that this handsome, fashionably-dressed young gentleman, was the fireman of last night. She saw her mistake, though, the moment he said bluntly, "Why, you told my mother it was an attendant.""Did I, madam?" asked Mrs. Archbold, mighty innocently: "I suppose Ithought so. Well, I was mistaken, unfortunately."Mrs. Dodd was silent a moment, then, somewhat hastily bade Mrs. Archbold good-bye. She told the cabman to drive to an old acquaintance of ours, Mr. Green. He had set up detective on his own account. He was not at his office, but expected. She sat patiently down till he came in. They put their heads together, and Green dashed down to the asylum with a myrmidon, while Mrs. Dodd went into the City to obtain leave of absence from Cross and Co. This was politely declined at first, but on Mrs. Dodd showing symptoms of leaving them altogether, it was conceded. She returned home with Edward, and there was Mr. Green: he had actually traced the fugitives by broken fences, and occasional footsteps in the side clay of ditches, so far as to leave no doubt they had got upon the great south-eastern road. Then Mrs. Dodd had a female inspiration. "The Dover road! Ah! my husband will make for the sea.""I shouldn't wonder, being a sailor," said Green. "It is a pleasure to work with a lady like you, that puts in a good hint. Know anything about the other one, ma'am?"Mrs. Dodd almost started at this off-hand question. But it was a natural one for Green to ask.
She said gravely, "I do. To my cost."