He did not go on at once to say it, and the young man waited respectfully. The colonel sighed, pa.s.sed his hand over his brow once or twice, sighed again.
"You are going to England, William?"
"They say so, sir. My father and mother seem to have set their minds on it."
"Quite right, too. There"s no place in the world like Oxford or Cambridge for a young man. Oxford or Cambridge,--which, William?"
"Oxford, sir, I believe."
"Yes; that would suit your father"s views best. How do you expect to get there? Will you go this year?"
"Oh yes, sir; that seems to be the plan. My father is possessed with the fear that I may grow to be not enough of an Englishman--or too much of an American; I don"t know which."
"I think you will be a true Englishman. Yet, if you live here permanently, you will have to be the other thing too. A man owes it to the country of his adoption; and I think your father has no thought of returning to England himself?"
"None at all, sir."
"How will you go? You cannot take pa.s.sage to England."
"That can be managed easily enough. Probably I should take pa.s.sage in a ship bound for Lisbon; from there I could make my way somehow to London."
For, it may be mentioned, the time was the time of the last American struggle with England, early in the century; and the high seas were not safe and quiet as now.
The colonel sighed again once or twice, and repeated that gesture with his hand over his brow.
"I suppose there is no telling how long you will be gone, if you once go?"
"I cannot come home every vacation," said Pitt lightly. "But since my father and mother have made up their minds to that, I must make up mine."
"So you will be gone years," said the colonel thoughtfully. "Years. I shall not be here when you return, William."
"You are not going to change your habitation, sir?" said the young man, though he knew what the other meant well enough.
"Not for any other upon earth," said the colonel soberly. "But I shall not be here, William. I am failing constantly. Slowly, if you please, but constantly. I am not as strong as I look, and I am far less well than your father believes. I should know best; and I know I am failing.
If you remain in England three years, or even two years, when you come back I shall not be here."
"I hope you are mistaken, colonel."
"I am not mistaken."
There was silence a few minutes. Pitt did not place unqualified trust in this judgment, even although, as he could not deny, the colonel might be supposed to know best. He doubted the truth of the prognostication; yet, on the other hand, he could not be sure that it was false. What if it were not false?
"I hope you are mistaken, colonel," he said again; "but if you are right--if it should be so as you fear"--
"I do not fear it," put in the colonel, interrupting him.
"Not for yourself; but if it should be so,--what will become of Esther?"
"It was of her I wished to speak. She will be here."
"Here in this house? She would be alone."
"I should be away. But Mrs. Barker would look after her."
"Barker!" Pitt echoed. "Yes, Mrs. Barker could take care of the house and of the cooking, as she does now; but Esther would be entirely alone, colonel."
"I have no one else to leave her with," said the colonel gloomily.
"Let my mother take charge of her, in such a case. My mother would take care of her, as if Esther were her own. Let her come to my mother, colonel!"
"No," said the colonel quietly, "that would not be best. I am sure of Mrs. Dallas"s kindness; but I shall leave Esther under the care of Barker and her brother. Christopher will manage the place, and keep everything right outside; and Barker will do her part faithfully.
Esther will be safe enough so, for a while. She is a child yet. But then, William, I"ll take a promise from you, if you will give it."
"I will give any promise you like, sir. What is it?" said Pitt, who had never been in a less pleasant mood towards his friend. In fact he was entirely out of patience with him. "What promise do you want, colonel?"
he repeated.
"When you come back from England, Will, if I am no longer here, I want you to ask Esther for a sealed package of papers, which I shall leave with her. Then open the package; and the promise I want from you is that you will do according to the wishes you will find there expressed."
Pitt looked at the colonel in much astonishment. "May I not know what those wishes regard, sir?"
"They will regard all I leave behind me."
There was in the tone of the colonel"s voice, and the manner of utterance of his words, something which showed Pitt that further explanations were not to be had from him. He hesitated, not liking to bind himself to anything in the dark; but finally he gave the promise as required. He went home, however, in a doubtful mood as regarded himself, and a very impatient one as concerned the colonel. What ridiculous, precise notion was this that had got possession of him? How little was he able to comprehend the nature or the needs of his little daughter; and what disagreeable office might he have laid upon Pitt in that connection? Pitt revolved these things in a fever of impatience with the colonel, who had demanded such a pledge from him, and with himself, who had given it. "I have been a fool for once in my life!"
thought he.
Mr. and Mrs. Dallas were in the sitting-room, where Pitt went in. They had been watching for his return, though they took care not to tell him so.
"How"s your friend the colonel to-day?" his father asked, willing to make sure where his son had been.
"He thinks he is dying," Pitt answered, in no very good humour.
"He has been thinking that for the last two years."
"Do you suppose there is anything in it?"
"Nothing but megrims. He"s hipped, that"s all. If he had some work to do--that he _must_ do, I mean--it"s my belief he would be a well man to-day; and know it, too."
"He honestly thinks he"s dying. Slowly, of course, but surely."
"Pity he ever left the army," said Mrs. Dallas. "He is one of those men who don"t bear to be idle."
"That"s all humankind!" said her husband. "n.o.body bears to be idle.
Can"t do it without running down."
"Still," said Pitt thoughtfully, "you cannot tell. A man ought to be the best judge of his own feelings; and perhaps Colonel Gainsborough is ill, as he says."
"What are you going to do about it?" said his father with a half sneer.