Victorian Short Stories, Vol. 2 | Page 8

was brandy in the room. Norah forced some drops into Mr
Frank's mouth, chafed his hands, and--when mere animal life returned,
before the mind poured in its flood of memories and thoughts--she
lifted him up, and rested his head against her knees. Then she put a few
crumbs of bread taken from the supper-table, soaked in brandy, into his
mouth. Suddenly he sprang to his feet.
'Where is she? Tell me this instant.' He looked so wild, so mad, so
desperate, that Norah felt herself to be in bodily danger; but her time of
dread had gone by. She had been afraid to tell him the truth, and then
she had been a coward. Now, her wits were sharpened by the sense of
his desperate state. He must leave the house. She would pity him
afterwards; but now she must rather command and upbraid; for he must

leave the house before her mistress came home. That one necessity
stood clear before her.
'She is not here: that is enough for you to know. Nor can I say exactly
where she is' (which was true to the letter if not to the spirit). 'Go away,
and tell me where to find you tomorrow, and I will tell you all. My
master and mistress may come back at any minute, and then what
would become of me, with a strange man in the house?'
Such an argument was too petty to touch his excited mind.
'I don't care for your master and mistress. If your master is a man, he
must feel for me--poor shipwrecked sailor that I am--kept for years a
prisoner amongst savages, always, always, always thinking of my wife
and my home--dreaming of her by night, talking to her though she
could not hear, by day. I loved her more than all heaven and earth put
together. Tell me where she is, this instant, you wretched woman, who
salved over her wickedness to her, as you do to me!'
The clock struck ten. Desperate positions require desperate measures.
'If you will leave the house now, I will come to you tomorrow and tell
you all. What is more, you shall see your child now. She lies sleeping
upstairs. Oh, sir, you have a child, you do not know that as yet--a little
weakly girl--with just a heart and soul beyond her years. We have
reared her up with such care! We watched her, for we thought for many
a year she might die any day, and we tended her, and no hard thing has
come near her, and no rough word has ever been said to her. And now
you come and will take her life into your hand, and will crush it.
Strangers to her have been kind to her; but her own father--Mr Frank, I
am her nurse, and I love her, and I tend her, and I would do anything
for her that I could. Her mother's heart beats as hers beats; and, if she
suffers a pain, her mother trembles all over. If she is happy, it is her
mother that smiles and is glad. If she is growing stronger, her mother is
healthy: if she dwindles, her mother languishes. If she dies--well, I
don't know; it is not everyone can lie down and die when they wish it.
Come upstairs, Mr Frank, and see your child. Seeing her will do good
to your poor heart. Then go away, in God's name, just this one night;
tomorrow, if need be, you can do anything--kill us all if you will, or
show yourself a great, grand man, whom God will bless for ever and
ever. Come, Mr Frank, the look of a sleeping child is sure to give
peace.'

She led him upstairs; at first almost helping his steps, till they came
near the nursery door. She had wellnigh forgotten the existence of little
Edwin. It struck upon her with affright as the shaded light fell over the
other cot; but she skilfully threw that corner of the room into darkness,
and let the light fall on the sleeping Ailsie. The child had thrown down
the coverings, and her deformity, as she lay with her back to them, was
plainly visible through her slight nightgown. Her little face, deprived of
the lustre of her eyes, looked wan and pinched, and had a pathetic
expression in it, even as she slept. The poor father looked and looked
with hungry, wistful eyes, into which the big tears came swelling up
slowly and dropped heavily down, as he stood trembling and shaking
all over. Norah was angry with herself for growing impatient of the
length of time that long lingering gaze lasted. She thought that she
waited for full half an hour before Frank stirred. And then--instead of
going away--he sank