"He gave me that: take it with you and put some on his hair; he likesit, and I do so want to help a little," she said, slipping the prettyflagon into his pocket, with such a wistful look, Mac never thought ofsmiling at this very feminine request.
"I'll tell him. Is there any thing else I can do for you, cousin?" heasked, holding the cold hand that had been serving him so helpfully.
"Only this: if there is any sudden change, promise to send for me, nomatter at what hour it is: I _must_ say 'Good-by.'"
"I will come for you. But, Rose, I am sure you may sleep in peaceto-night; and I hope to have good news for you in the morning."
"Bless you for that! Come early, and let me see him soon. I will bevery good, and I know it will not do him any harm."
"No fear of that: the first thing he said when he could speak was,'Tell Rose carefully;' and, as I came away, he guessed where I wasgoing, and tried to kiss his hand in the old way, you know."
Mac thought it would cheer her to hear that Charlie remembered her;but the sudden thought that she might never see that familiar littlegesture any more was the last drop that made her full heart overflow,and Mac saw the "hero" of the morning sink down at his feet in apassion of tears that frightened him. He took her to the sofa, andtried to comfort her; but, as soon as the bitter sobbing quieted, shelooked up and said quite steadily, great drops rolling down her cheeksthe while,--
"Let me cry: it is what I need, and I shall be all the better for itby and by. Go to Charlie now, and tell him I said with all my heart,'Good-night!'"
"I will!" and Mac trudged away, marvelling in his turn at thecuriously blended strength and weakness of womankind.
That was the longest night Rose ever spent; but joy came in themorning with the early message, "He is better. You are to come by andby." Then Aunt Plenty forgot her lumbago and arose; Aunt Myra, who hadcome to have a social croak, took off her black bonnet as if it wouldnot be needed at present, and the girl made ready to go and say"Welcome back," not the hard "Good-by."
It seemed very long to wait; for no summons came till afternoon, thenher uncle arrived, and at the first sight of his face Rose began totremble.
"I came for my little girl myself, because we must go back at once,"he said, as she hurried toward him hat in hand.
"I'm ready, sir;" but her hands shook as she tried to tie the ribbons,and her eyes never left the face that was so full of tender pity forher.
He took her quickly into the carriage, and, as they rolled away, saidwith the quiet directness which soothes such agitation better than anysympathetic demonstration,--
"Charlie is worse. I feared it when the pain went so suddenly thismorning; but the chief injuries are internal, and one can never tellwhat the chances are. He insists that he is better, but will soonbegin to fail, I fear; become unconscious, and slip away without moresuffering. This is the time for you to see him; for he has set hisheart on it, and nothing can hurt him now. My child, it is very hard;but we must help each other bear it."
Rose tried to say, "Yes, uncle," bravely; but the words would notcome; and she could only slip her hand into his with a look of mutesubmission. He laid her head on his shoulder, and went on talking soquietly that any one who did not see how worn and haggard his face hadgrown with two days and a night of sharp anxiety might have thoughthim cold.
"Jessie has gone home to rest, and Jane is with poor Clara, who hasdropped asleep at last. I've sent for Steve and the other boys. Therewill be time for them later; but he so begged to see you now, Ithought it best to come while this temporary strength keeps him up. Ihave told him how it is, but he will not believe me. If he asks you,answer honestly; and try to fit him a little for this sudden ending ofso many hopes."
"How soon, uncle?"
"A few hours, probably. This tranquil moment is yours: make the mostof it; and, when we can do no more for him, we'll comfort oneanother."
Mac met them in the hall: but Rose hardly saw him; she was consciousonly of the task before her; and, when her uncle led her to the door,she said quietly,--
"Let me go in alone, please."
Archie, who had been hanging over the bed, slipped away into the innerroom as she appeared; and Rose found Charlie waiting for her with sucha happy face, she could not believe what she had heard, and found iteasy to say almost cheerfully, as she took his eager hand in both ofhers,--
"Dear Charlie, I'm so glad you sent for me. I longed to come, butwaited till you were better. You surely are?" she added, as a secondglance showed her the indescribable change which had come upon theface which at first seemed to have both light and color in it.
"Uncle says not: but I think he is mistaken, because the agony is allgone; and, except for this odd sinking now and then, I don't feel somuch amiss," he answered feebly, but with something of the oldlightness in his voice.
"You will hardly be able to sail in the 'Rajah,' I fear; but you won'tmind waiting a little, while we nurse you," said poor Rose, trying totalk on quietly, with her heart growing heavier every minute.
"I shall go if I'm carried! I'll keep that promise, though it costs memy life. O Rose! you know? they've told you?" and, with a suddenmemory of what brought him there, he hid his face in the pillow.
"You broke no promise; for I would not let you make one, you remember.Forget all that, and let us talk about the better time that may becoming for you."
"Always so generous, so kind!" he murmured, with her hand against hisfeverish cheek; then, looking up, he went on in a tone so humblycontrite it made her eyes fill with slow, hot tears.
"I tried to flee temptation: I tried to say 'No;' but I am so pitiablyweak, I couldn't. You must despise me. But don't give me up entirely:for, if I live, I'll do better; I'll go away to father and beginagain."
Rose tried to keep back the bitter drops; but they would fall, to hearhim still speak hopefully when there was no hope. Something in themute anguish of her face seemed to tell him what she could not speak;and a quick change came over him as he grasped her hand tighter,saying in a sharp whisper,--
"Have I really got to die, Rose?"
Her only answer was to kneel down and put her arms about him, as ifshe tried to keep death away a little longer. He believed it then, andlay so still, she looked up in a moment, fearing she knew not what.
But Charlie bore it manfully; for he had the courage which can face agreat danger bravely, though not the strength to fight a bosom-sin andconquer it. His eyes were fixed, as if trying to look into the unseenworld whither he was going, and his lips firmly set that no word ofcomplaint should spoil the proof he meant to give that, though he hadnot known how to live, he did know how to die. It seemed to Rose as iffor one brief instant she saw the man that might have been, if earlytraining had taught him how to rule himself; and the first words heuttered with a long sigh, as his eye came back to her, showed that hefelt the failure and owned it with pathetic candor.
"Better so, perhaps; better go before I bring any more sorrow to you,and shame to myself. I'd like to stay a little longer, and try toredeem the past; it seems so wasted now: but, if I can't, don'tgrieve, Rose; I'm no loss to any one, and perhaps it _is_ too late tomend."
"Oh, don't say that! no one will fill your place among us: we nevercan forget how much we loved you; and you must believe how freely weforgive as we would be forgiven," cried Rose, steadied by the paledespair that had fallen on Charlie's face with those bitter words.
"'Forgive us our trespasses!' Yes, I should say that. Rose, I'm notready; it is so sudden: what can I do?" he whispered, clinging to her,as if he had no anchor except the creature whom he loved so much.
"Uncle will tell you: I am not good enough; I can only pray for you,"and she moved as if to call in the help so sorely needed.
"No, no, not yet! stay by me, darling: read something; there, ingrandfather's old book, some prayer for such as I. It will do me moregood from you than any minister alive."
She got the venerable book,--given to Charlie because he bore the goodman's name,--and, turning to the "Prayer for the Dying," read itbrokenly; while the voice beside her echoed now and then some wordthat reproved or comforted.
"The testimony of a good conscience." "By the sadness of hiscountenance may his heart be made better." "Christian patience andfortitude." "Leave the world in peace." "Amen."
There was silence for a little; then Rose, seeing how wan he looked,said softly, "Shall I call uncle now?"
"If you will; but first--don't smile at my foolishness, dear--I wantmy little heart. They took it off: please give it back, and let mekeep it always," he answered, with the old fondness strong as ever,even when he could only show it by holding fast the childish trinketwhich she found and gave him,--the old agate heart with the fadedribbon. "Put it on, and never let them take it off," he said; and,when she asked if there was any thing else she could do for him, hetried to stretch out his arms to her with a look which asked for more.
She kissed him very tenderly on lips and forehead; tried to say"Good-by," but could not speak, and groped her way to the door.Turning for a last look, Charlie's hopeful spirit rose for a moment,as if anxious to send her away more cheerful, and he said with ashadow of the old blithe smile, a feeble attempt at the familiarfarewell gesture,--
"Till to-morrow, Rose."
Alas, for Charlie! his to-morrow never came: and, when she saw himnext, he lay there looking so serene and noble, it seemed as if itmust be well with him: for all the pain was past; temptation ended;doubt and fear, hope and love, could no more stir his quiet heart, andin solemn truth he _had_ gone to meet his Father, and begin again.