Immediately after he had told me this, he returned to the wretched house, _wretched_ in the midst of luxury and splendor! I waited in vain for him to return to dinner, but received a note toward night, telling me not to be alarmed, if he did not return until morning. Lucy was rather better, but would not consent to his leaving the house, while her father lived. He would probably not survive many hours.

Dr. Clapp called in the evening, and told me he had received a hasty note from the Doctor, requesting him to take the care of his other patients, with a list of those upon whom it would be necessary to call.

_Friday, August 7th._

Contrary to the Doctor's expectations, Squire Lee is still living; and there is slight hope that he may be better. Frank pursued the most vigorous course of treatment; applying cups to the temples, and blisters to the back of the neck. He left him in a natural sleep.

Lucy has been carried to the room where she sits near the bed. She wishes to be near him when he recovers his consciousness, hoping before his death that he may revoke his dreadful curse.

_Tuesday, August 11th._

Mother and Emily returned last Sat.u.r.day, and as mother feared, a terrible reaction has taken place. Sister is now as excitable as she was impa.s.sive. She laughs so merrily that the sound rings through the house.

Then with as little reason, she weeps violently. I led Pauline to the cottage to try and amuse the poor girl; but the little creature was afraid of her aunt, and clung convulsively to me, if Emily tried to force her from my arms. There is a dreadful wildness in her eye, which alarms me.

Squire Lee is so much better, Frank is of opinion that, if he has no relapse, he will soon be able to leave his bed. Lucy is with him constantly; indeed he cannot bear her out of his sight a moment.

Sometimes he mistakes her for her mother, and calls her "_wife_," and "_Mary_!"

The Doctor has insisted that he shall have watchers, so that she may have regular sleep; and that she shall take exercise in the open air, at least an hour every day. Joseph returned Sat.u.r.day, but as the Doctor would not allow him to go into the sickroom, telling him he would not be responsible for the consequences, the young man left again for the city early Monday morning.

Frank also told him, Lucy had informed her father of her determination not to marry Arnold. Joseph swore dreadfully, that she would be the death of her father yet. All his object now was to see if "the old fellow," as he called him, had acted upon his suggestion.

Mrs. Burns had picked up the paper which lay upon the floor, after the dreadful interview between father and daughter, and having glanced at its contents, and seen that he had indeed left every cent of his property to Joseph, was strongly tempted to destroy it; but knowing she had no right to do this, she carefully locked it in a private desk where she had sometimes seen her master put his papers, and kept the key. She told Frank of the fact, who strengthened her in the resolution to restore it to no one but her master.

After Joseph's departure on Monday, however, it was ascertained beyond a doubt, that he had taken the desk with him.

CHAPTER XII.

. . . . "No, I'll not weep; I have full cause for weeping; but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or ere I'll weep;--O fool, I shall go mad!" SHAKSPEARE.

_Thursday, August 13th._

DEAR MOTHER,--Yesterday was a fearfully exciting day. About noon mother Lenox came over from the cottage to go back with Emily.

I asked where sister had gone. She looked at me with fright and wonder.

"Emily," she exclaimed, "started for the house early this morning, purposely, as she said, to see her brother before he went out upon his calls."

"She has not been here to my knowledge," I replied. We instantly went to the kitchen to ascertain whether Phebe or Caesar had seen her. Caesar was absent; but neither Ann nor Phebe had seen anything of their young mistress. We were now really alarmed, and waited with impatience for Frank's return, while the women searched the house and grounds.

Caesar was soon heard coming up the hill with the wagon, when his wife ran to meet him. He stopped the horse to hear what she was in such a hurry to say, but mother beckoned for him to come to the door. He said "I'se heb seen missus 'bout seven or it might be nigh upon eight. She be all dressed out for de walk, and was g'wine down de hill. I'se stopped de wagon, and axed missus if I'se go back and take de carriage and carry her where she was g'wine. But missus say no, she only g'wine on a piece for ole missus. She 'peared in mighty hurry," ended the old man.

Mother went back to the library, sat down in a chair, and covered her face with her hands. "I will send Caesar to find his master," said I, earnestly.

Phebe, however, had antic.i.p.ated me, for when I heard Caesar, as I thought, drive to the barn, he had only turned back and gone to the office in the village. In a very few moments, we heard Frank's welcome voice. I sprang to meet him and led him to our distressed mother.

"Emily is gone!" she repeated after me; but oh! I cannot describe the mournfulness of the tone.

"Dear mother, don't be alarmed," he said, in a cheerful voice, "I will soon find the runaway and bring her back." I looked earnestly at him to see if he really were so hopeful, but could detect nothing to make me think otherwise, except that he was very pale about the mouth. He then ascertained from Caesar the direction she had taken, and rode hastily away.

In about two hours, which had seemed equal to a whole day, I received the following hasty note by a messenger:--

"DEAR CORA,

"I regret to say that I have so far been unsuccessful in my search.

Let Caesar procure men and horses from the village, and start off in every direction. I am on my way to Waverley, where I have slight encouragement to hope I may find her. A young woman was seen hastily running in that direction, and was observed to look frequently behind her, as if apprehending pursuit.

"May G.o.d in mercy grant this to be our dear distracted sister. Pray for us; but this I know you will do. I am stopping for ten minutes to rest and water my horse. Sweet wife, take care of yourself and our dear mother.

"YOUR FRANK."

I instantly rang for Caesar, and gave him his master's orders, directing him to send in every other direction except that taken by the Doctor, and make inquiries at every house. Mother was so distressed, I felt that I must not give way to my feelings. So I walked the room holding Pauline tightly in my arms, or leading her by my side.

Not a tear did mother shed. She knelt by the sofa, with her face buried in her hands, for half an hour at a time. At the least noise, she would start up and look eagerly for a moment, and then relapse into her former state.

I tried to pray, but could not command my thoughts; I could only lift up my heart, as I walked the room. "O G.o.d! restore unto us our dear, lost one!"

I cannot describe to you the intense grief of mother, as hour after hour pa.s.sed away, and we still heard nothing from the fugitive. By this time, the whole village was aroused, and messengers were continually coming to the house to report their want of success, or to make inquiries whether the poor girl had been found.

From the remark of one of them that they had been "_dragging the pond_,"

I for the first time realized what must be the agony felt by my dear, distracted mother, who with a low wail put her hand suddenly to her heart. I sprang to her side, and clasping my arms around her neck, wept bitterly. That dreadful thought had never before entered my mind. But it was what had distracted her.

Alas! what torment in that fear! I trembled at every sound. Dear, kind Miss Proctor, who instantly came to us in our sorrow, begged us to go up stairs, where we could be more retired. She promised to come to us with the first intelligence.

Ann came to put Pauline to bed, and brought tea on a waiter; but I shook my head, I could not swallow. Mother seemed not to see or hear her.

It must have been nearly nine in the evening, when I heard a faint sound in the distance. I listened eagerly, and then again I heard a shout.

This time it aroused mother, who looked at me with dreadful apprehension and horror of the cause.

"Hark!" said I, as the sound was again borne on the breeze, "what do they say?" and now, as they approached nearer and nearer, we distinctly heard the words, "_She's found!_ SHE'S FOUND!!"

We stopped but for one convulsive embrace, and then started quickly to go below; but the sudden relief was too great for mother's overborne heart; and she fell prostrate upon the floor. Miss Proctor, with Ann's a.s.sistance, raised her, and soon restored her to consciousness, having motioned me to go below.

The carriage stopped at the door. A boy was sitting on a cricket driving, while Frank held his unconscious sister in his arms. With Caesar's a.s.sistance he carried her to her bed, from which I fear the poor girl will not soon rise. She was very wild all night, during which her devoted brother never left her. This morning he p.r.o.nounces her suffering from the worst form of brain fever. G.o.d only knows the result.

Dear mother shared my room with me, and in compliance with Frank's earnestly expressed wishes, forced herself to remain in bed. But I hardly think she closed her eyes. This morning he has procured an excellent nurse, and will himself remain most of the time with her.

He will not allow me to be in the room, and says he has no desire to multiply such patients. He confessed to me this morning that for many hours yesterday he feared a more dreadful result; and added, "G.o.d only knows what I suffered in the thought that she had rushed into eternity unprepared."

I will go now and see if I can prevail upon mother to eat something and lie down. "For Emily's sake," is the only successful plea.

_Wednesday, August 19th._