again.
"Then it was bad enough about father without this horrible charge."
Claire's face grew hard and cold, and in a moment she seemed ten yearsolder.
"Then there was poor Fred: Rockley's servant in my regiment. You don'tknow what a position mine has been."
Claire made no movement now. Her heart seemed to be hardening againstthe lad, and she shrank from him a little, but he clung to her tightlywith his face hidden, and went on in the same piteous, boyish wail.
"I've been half mad sometimes about you and your troubles--"
Claire's hands began to rise again and tremble over his head.
"Sometimes about myself, and I've felt as if I was the most unluckyfellow in the world."
There was a pause here, broken by the lad's passionate sobs.
"There: you hear me," he said. "I'm only a boy blubbering like this,but I feel pain as a man. I tell you, Clairy, dear sis, it has drivenme nearly mad to know that this false charge was hanging over my father,and that he was in prison. The fellows at the mess have seemed toshrink from me, all but the Colonel, but whenever he has said a kindword to me I've known it was because the old man was in prison, and ithas been like a knife going into me. I couldn't bear it. I hatedmyself, and I fought, I tell you, to do what was right, but I couldn't.It was as if the devil were dragging at me to draw me away, till thiscame, and then I felt that I could be a man, and now," he cried, raisinghimself, and shaking his hair back, as he threw up his head proudly,"forgive me, sis, or no--Damn my commission! Damn the regiment! Damnthe whole world! I'm going down to the prison to stand by my poor oldfather, come what may."
"My darling!"
Claire's arms were round his neck, and for the space of a few minutesshe sobbed hysterically, as she strained him to her breast.
"What, sis? You forgive me?" he cried, as her kisses were rained uponhis face.
"Forgive you, my own brave, true brother? Yes," she cried. "Of courseI know what you have suffered. I know it all. It was a bitterstruggle, dear, but you have conquered, and I never felt so proud of youas I feel now."
"Sis!"
The tears that stole down from Claire's eyes seemed to give her therelief her throbbing brain had yearned for all these painful days, andher face lit up with a look of joy to which it had been a stranger formonths.
"You will go to him then, dear?" she whispered, with the bright aspectfading out again, to give place to a cold, ashy look of dread, as thehorror of their position came back, and the shadow of what seemed toClaire to be inevitable now crossed her spirit.
"Yes, I'm going. Poor old fellow! It will be a horrible shock to himabout Fred."
"About Fred?"
"Yes. Had I better tell him?"
"Tell him?" faltered Claire.
"Yes. I thought not. He has enough to bear. I thought," said the ladbitterly, "that I was doing a brave thing when they brought him in. Isaid he was my poor brother: but I found that they all knew. Claire!Sis!"
She had staggered from him, and would have fallen had he not held on toher hand.
"Speak--tell me!" she cried. "No, no! I can't bear it! Don't tell methere is some new trouble come."
"What! Didn't you know?"
She shook her head wildly, and wrung her hands and tried to speak, whilehe held her and whispered softly:
"Oh, sis--sis--dear sis!"
"Something has happened to Fred," she panted at last. "Tell me: I canbear it now. Anything. I am used to trouble, dear."
"My poor sis!" he whispered.
"Why do you not tell me?" she cried wildly. "Do you not see how you aretorturing me? Speak--tell me. What of Fred?"
Her imperious, insistent manner seemed to force the lad to speak, and hesaid, slowly and unwillingly:
"He was going along the Parade, and ran up against Rockley, and Payne,and Bray; poor chap, he did not salute them, I believe, and Rockley gavehim a cut with his whip."
"Major Rockley!" cried Claire, with ashy lips.
"Yes; and he knocked over Bray and that puppy Payne. Curse them! theywere like skittles to him. Fred's full of pluck; and, sis," criedMorton excitedly, as his eyes flashed with pleasure, "he took hold ofthat black-muzzled, blackguard Rockley, snatched his whip from him, andthrashed him till he couldn't stand."
"Fred beat Major Rockley?" cried Claire, with a horrified look, as sherealised the consequences forgotten for the moment by the boy.
"Yes; thrashed the blackguard soundly; but they followed him with asergeant and a file or two of men to take him."
"Yes. Go on."
"They found him at Linnell's, talking to Richard Linnell and--"
Morton stopped with white face, and repented that he had said so much.
"I must know all," cried Claire, trembling. "I am sure to hear."
"I can't tell you," he said hoarsely.
"Is it not better that it should come from you than from a stranger?"
"It is too horrible, sis," said the lad.
"Tell me, Morton, at once."
Her words were cold and strange, and she laid her hands upon hisshoulders, and gazed into his eyes.
The boy winced and hung his head as he said slowly:
"They called upon him to surrender, but--"
The lad raised his head, and tossing it back, his eyes flashed as hecried in a different tone:
"I can't help being proud of him--he was so full of pluck, sis. Hewouldn't surrender, but made a bold leap out of the window, and made arun for it; but that beast Bray gave the order, and they shot him down."
"Shot him down!"
"Yes; but he's not dead, sis--only wounded; but--"
"But what? Why do you keep anything from me now?" cried Clairepiteously.
"It's court-martial, and--it's court-martial for striking your officer,Claire, and he knows it; and, poor fellow, in a desperate fit, so as toget into the hands of the magistrates instead of the officers, to becondemned to death, he--he--Claire, I can't speak if you look at me inthat wild way."
"Go on!" she said hoarsely.
"He said--that it was not father--who killed Lady Teigne--but it washe."
Volume Three, Chapter XIX.
MORTON BEARS THE NEWS FURTHER.
"Do all you can to comfort them, Mrs Barclay, please," said Morton, ashe left the house. "It's all so shocking, I don't know what to say ordo."
"You've done quite right in coming here, my dear," said Mrs Barclay,whose eyes were red with weeping.
"I'm afraid I've done more harm than good," said Morton dolefully."Poor Claire, she's half crazy with what she has to bear."
"You told her, then, about your brother Fred?" said Mrs Barclay, in awhisper.
The lad nodded.
"It was quite right; she would have heard of it, and it was better itshould come from you, my dear. Are you--are you going to see your poorfather in prison?"
"Yes," said Morton firmly. "I've got an order to see him, and I'm goingat once."
He turned round sharply, for he had received a hearty clap on theshoulder, and found that Barclay had approached him unperceived; and henow took the young fellow's hand and shook it warmly.
"Good lad!" he exclaimed. "That's brave. Go and see him; and if youlike you may tell him that Mr Linnell and I have got the best lawyer inLondon to defend him."
"You have, Mr Barclay?"
"Yes; we have. There, don't stare at me like that. Your father oncedid me a good turn; and do you suppose a money-lender has no bowels?You tell him--no, don't tell him. He is in a queer, obstinate way justnow, and you've got your work cut out to tell him about your brother'strouble. That's enough for one day, but you may give him a bit ofcomfort about your sisters. You can tell him that my stupid, obstinateold wife has got 'em in hand, and that as long as there's a roof overMrs Barclay's head, and anything to eat, Miss Denville will share them.No, no; don't shake hands with me. I've nothing to do with it. It'sall her doing."
Morton could not speak, but gripped the
money-lender's hand tightlybefore turning to Mrs Barclay. He held out his hand and took hers, hislips trembling as he gazed in the plump, motherly face. Then, withsomething like a sob of a very unmanly nature, he threw his arms roundher and kissed her twice.
"God bless you!" he cried; and he turned and ran out of the room.
Barclay's face puckered up as his wife sank down in a chair sobbing,with her handkerchief to her eyes, and rocking herself to and fro, butonly to start up in
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