We sat talking until the summer’s dusk grew on apace, and one thing this devoted lover of my family told me, which lightened my spirits of the greatest burden that had rested upon them since my calamity befell me.  I had dwelt at length upon my Lord Comyn, and upon the weight of his services to me, and touched upon the sum which I stood in his debt.  The captain interrupted me.

“One day, before your mother died, she sent for me,” said he, “and I came to Carvel Hall.  You were too young to remember.  It was in September, and she was sitting on the seat under the oak she loved so well,—­by Dr. Hilliard’s study.

“The lace shawl your father had given her was around her shoulders, and upon her face was the smile that gave me a pang to see.  For it had something of heaven in it, Richard.  She called me ‘Daniel’ then for the second time in her life.  She bade me be seated beside her.  ‘Daniel,’ she said, ’when I am gone, and father is gone, it is you who will take care of Richard.  I sometimes believe all may not be well then, and that he will need you.’  I knew she was thinking of Grafton,” said the captain. “’I have a little money of my own, Daniel, which I have saved lately with this in view.  I give it into your charge, and if trouble comes to him, my old friend, you will use it as you see fit.’

“It was a bit under a thousand pounds, Richard.  And when she died I put it out under Mr. Carroll’s direction at safe interest.  So that you have enough to discharge your debt, and something saved against another emergency.”

He fell silent, sunk into one of those reveries which the memory of my mother awoke in him.  My own thoughts drifted across the sea.  I was again at the top of the stairs in Arlington Street, and feeling the dearest presence in the world.  The pale oval of Dorothy’s face rose before me and the troubled depths of her blue eyes.  And I heard once more the tremble in her voice as she confessed, in words of which she took no heed, that love for which I had sought in vain.

The summer dusk was gathering.  Outside, under the cherry trees, I saw Banks holding forth to an admiring circle of negro ’ostlers.  And presently Mr. Claude came in to say that Shaw, the town carpenter, and Sol Mogg, the ancient sexton of St. Anne’s, and several more of my old acquaintances were without, and begged the honour of greeting me.

CHAPTER XLIV

NOBLESSE OBLIGE

I lay that night in Captain Clapsaddle’s lodgings opposite, and slept soundly.  Banks was on hand in the morning to assist at my toilet, and was greatly downcast when I refused him this privilege, for the first time.  Captain Daniel was highly pleased with the honest fellow’s devotion in following me to America.  To cheer him he began to question him as to my doings in London, and the first thing of which Banks must tell was of the riding-contest in Hyde Park, which I had omitted.  It is easy to imagine how this should have tickled the captain, who always had my horsemanship at heart; and when it came to Chartersea’s descent into the Serpentine, I thought he would go into apoplexy.  For he had put on flesh with the years.