Newton Forster

by Frederick Marryat

  Chapter XXXIII

  "Look Upon this child--I saved her, must not leave Her life to chance; but point me out some nook Of safety, where she less may shrink and grieve.

  This child, who parentless, is therefore mine."

  BYRON.

  A few minutes after Newton had quitted the chambers of his uncle, the clerkmade his appearance, announcing to Mr John Forster that a gentlemanrequested to speak to him.

  "I asked the gentleman's name, sir," observed the clerk, shutting to thedoor, "but he did not choose to give it. He has a little girl with him."

  "Very well, Scratton, the little girl cannot concern me," replied the oldlawyer; "ask him to walk in;"--and he again conned over the brief, notchoosing to lose the minute which might elapse before he was again to beinterrupted. The door was reopened, and Edward Forster, with Amber holdinghim by the hand, entered the room.

  "Your servant, sir. Scratton, a chair--two chairs, Scratton. I beg yourpardon, young lady."

  When the clerk had retired, Mr John Forster commenced as usual.--"Now, sir,may I request the favour of asking your business with me?"

  "You do not recollect me; nor am I surprised at it, as it is fifteen yearssince we last met. Time and suffering, which have worn me to a skeleton,have also worn out the remembrance of a brother. I am Edward Forster."

  "Edward Forster!--humph! Well, I did not recollect you; but I'm very gladto see you, brother. Very strange--never have heard of one of my family foryears, and now they all turn up at once! No sooner get rid of one, than upstarts another. Nicholas came from the Lord knows where, the other day."

  Edward Forster, who was better acquainted with his brother's character thanNewton, took no notice of the abruptness of his remarks, but replied:

  "Nicholas! Is he, then, alive? I shall be delighted to see him."

  "Humph!" replied John, "I was delighted to get rid of him. Take care ofyour watch or spectacles when you meet him."

  "Indeed, brother! I trust he is not such a character."

  "But he is a character, I can tell you; not what you suppose--he's honestenough. Let me see--if my memory serves me, brother Edward, we last metwhen you were passing through London on your way to ----, having beeninvalided, and having obtained a pension of forty pounds per annum for asevere wound received in action. And pray, brother, where have you beenever since?"

  "At the same spot, from which I probably never should have been induced toremove, had it not been for the sake of this little girl who is now withme."

  "And pray who may be that little girl? Is she your daughter?"

  "Only by adoption."

  "Humph, brother! for a half-pay lieutenant, that appears rather anexpensive whim!--bad enough to maintain children of our own begetting."

  "You say true," replied Edward; "but if in this instance I have incurred anexpense and responsibility, it must be considered to be more my misfortunethan my fault." Edward Forster then entered into the particulars connectedwith Amber's rescue. "You must acknowledge, brother John," observed Edward,as he closed his narrative, "that I could not well have acted otherwise;you would not yourself."

  "Humph! I don't know that; but this I do know, that you had better havestayed at home!"

  "Perhaps so, considering the forlorn prospects of the child; but we mustnot judge. The same Providence which willed that she should be somiraculously saved also willed that I should be her protector;--whyotherwise did the dog lay her at my feet?"

  "Because it had been taught to 'fetch and carry,' I suppose: but however,brother Edward, I have no right to question your conduct. If the girl is asgood as she is pretty, why all the better for her; but, as I am ratherbusy, let me ask if you have any more to say to me?"

  "I have, John; and the discourse we have had is preliminary. I am here witha child, forced upon me I may say, but still as dear to me as if she weremine own. You must be aware that I have nothing but my pension and half-payto subsist upon. I can save nothing. My health is undermined and my lifeprecarious. Last winter I never expected to quit my bed again; and, as Ilay in it, the thought naturally occurred of the forlorn and helpless statein which this poor little girl would be in case of my decease. In a lonelycottage, without money--without family or friends to apply to--withoutanyone near her being made acquainted with her unfortunate history, whatwould have become of her? It was this reflection which determined me, if mylife was spared, as soon as my health would permit, to come to you, theonly relative I was certain of still having in the world, that I mightacquaint you with her existence, and, with her history, confide to you thefew articles of dress which she wore when rescued, and which may eventuallylead to her recognition--a case of extreme doubt and difficulty, I grant;but the ways of Providence are mysterious, and her return to the arms ofher friends will not be more wonderful than her preservation on thatdreadful night. Brother! I never have applied to you in my own behalf,although conscious how ample are your means--and I never will; but I do nowplead in favour of this dear child. Worn out as I am, my pilgrimage onearth can be but short; and if you would smooth the pillow of a dyingbrother, promise him now that you will extend your bounty to this poororphan, when I'm no more!"

  Edward Forster's voice was tremulous at the close of his appeal, and hisbrother appeared to be affected. There was a silence of a minute, when thecustomary "humph!" was ejaculated, and John Forster then continued: "A veryfoolish business, brother--very foolish, indeed. When Nicholas and his soncame here the other day and applied to me--why it was all very well--therewas relationship; but really, to put another man's child upon me!"

  "Not while it pleases heaven to spare _my_ life, brother."

  "'May you live a thousand years!' then, as the Spanish say; but, however,brother Edward, as you say, the poor thing must not starve; so, if I am totake care of a child of another man's begetting, as soon as you are dead, Ican only say, it will very much increase my sorrow at your loss. Come here,little one: What's your name?"

  "Amber, sir."

  "Amber! who the devil gave you that fool's name?"

  "I did, brother," replied Edward; "I thought it appropriate."

  "Humph! really can't see why. Why did you not call her Sukey, or some namefit for a Christian? Amber! Amber's a gum, is it not? Stop, let's see whatJohnson says."

  The lawyer went to a case of books which were in the next room, andreturned with a quarto.

  "Now," said he, seating himself; "AG--AL--AM--Ambassador--Ambassadress--Amber!--humph! here it is, 'A yellow, transparent substance of a gummous orbituminous consistence, but of a resinous taste, and a smell like oil ofturpentine; chiefly found in the Baltic sea or the coast of Prussia.'Humph! 'Some have imagined it to consist of the tears of birds; othersthe'--humph!--'of a beast; others the scum of the Lake Cephesis, near theAtlantic; others a congelation in some fountains, where it is foundswimming like pitch.' Really, brother," continued the lawyer, fixing hiseyes on the little girl, and shutting the book, "I can't see the analogy."

  "Be her godfather, my dear brother, and call her any name you please."

  "Humph!"

  "Pray, papa," said Amber, turning to Edward Forster, "What's the meaning of'humph'?"

  "Humph!" repeated the lawyer, looking hard at Amber.

  "It implies yes or no, as it may be," replied Edward Forster, smiling.

  "I never heard anyone say it before, papa. You're not angry with me, sir?"continued Amber, turning round to John Forster.

  "No, not angry, little girl; but I'm too busy to talk to you--or indeedwith you, brother Edward. Have you anything more to say?"

  "Nothing, my dear brother, if I have your promise."

  "Well, you have it; but what am I to do with her, God only knows! I wishyou had kept better hours. You mentioned some clothes which might identifyher to her relations; pray let me have them; for I shall have the greatestpleasure in restoring her to them, as soon as possible, after she is oncein my hands."

  "Here they are, brother," replied Edward, taking a small packet f
rom hiscoat-pocket; "you had better take charge of them now; and may God bless youfor having relieved my mind from so heavy a load!"

  "Humph! by taking it on my own shoulders," muttered John, as he walked tothe iron safe, to deposit the packet of linen; then returning to the table,"Have you anything more to say, brother?"

  "Only to ask you where I may find my brother Nicholas?"

  "That I can't tell; my nephew told me somewhere down the river; but it's along way from here to the Nore. Nephew's a fine lad; I sent him off to theEast Indies."

  "I am sorry then that I have no chance of seeing him:--but you are busy,brother?"

  "I have told you so three times, as plain as I could speak!"

  "I will no longer trespass on your time. We return home to-morrow morning;and, as I cannot expect ever to see you again, God bless you, my dear John!and farewell, I am afraid I may say, in this world at least, farewell forever!"

  Edward held out his hand to his brother. It was taken with considerableemotion. "Farewell, brother, farewell!--I'll not forget."

  "Good-bye, sir," said Amber, going close up to John Forster.

  "Good-bye, my little girl," replied he, looking earnestly in her face; andthen, as if thawing towards her, as he scanned her beautiful and expressivefeatures, removing his spectacles and kissing her, "Good-bye."

  "Oh! papa," cried Amber, as she went out of the room, "he kissed me!"

  "Humph!" said John Forster, as the door closed upon them.

  The spectacles were put on, and the reading of the brief immediatelycontinued.