"Well, Tobias," said Colonel Jeffery, as he entered the pretty, cheerful room into which the now convalescent boy had been removed. "Well, Tobias, how are you now?" "Much better, sir. Oh, sir,—I—I—"
"What would you say?"
"I feel that when I see you, sir, I ought to say so much to convince you of how truly, and deeply grateful I am to you, and yet I can scarcely ever say a word about it. I pray for your happiness, sir, indeed I do. Your name and my mother's, and—and Minna Gray's, are always uttered to God by me."
"Now, Tobias," said Colonel Jeffery gravely. "I am quite satisfied that as regards all that has passed, you feel as you ought to feel, and for my own part, I beg you to feel and to know that your saying anything about it only distresses me."
"Distresses you, sir?"
"Yes, it does, indeed. I see your eyes are upon the door. You expect Minna, to day, I am sure."
"Yes, sir,—she—she—my mother was to bring her, sir."
A ringing at a bell now came upon Tobias's ear, and his colour went and came fitfully.
"You are still very weak, my poor boy," said the colonel, "but you are certainly much improved. Do you feel any confusion in your head now?"
"None at all, only when I think of Todd suddenly, ever it makes me feel cold and sick, and something seems to rush through my heart."
"Oh, that will go away. That is nothing. There, I will draw up the blind for you. The evening is coming, and the sky is overclouded. You can see better now, and there is one coming whom I know you wish to lose no sight of."
"I hear her foot upon the stairs," said Tobias.
"Do you?—It is more than I do."
"Ah, sir, the senses are sharpened, I think, by illness."
"Not so much as by love. Tobias! do you hear her footstep now?"
"Yes, and it is like music."
He had his head on one side in an attitude of listening; and then with joy sparkling from every feature of his face, he spoke again—
"She comes—she comes. Ah, she comes fast. My own—my beautiful. She come—she comes."
"This is real love," said the colonel, and he stepped from the room. Nearly on the landing at the head of the stairs, he met Minna Gray.
"Welcome," he said as he held out his hand to her. "You will find your young friend up and much better."
Minna could only look her thanks. Mrs. Ragg was following her, and as the ascent of stairs was always rather a task to that good Lady, she was making a noise like a stranded grampus in breathing.
"Ah, colonel," she said, "young legs get up stairs faster than old ones, sir, as you see. Well—well, there was a time when first I knew poor dear Ragg, who is of course dead and gone, quite premature."
"Exactly, Mrs. Ragg," said the colonel, as he rapidly descended the stairs.
"Did you ever, my dear, know such a strange man?" said Mrs. Ragg to Minna.
"Who?"
"The colonel, to be sure. So soon as I begin to tell him any little what do you call it. No it ain't nannygoat—that's ridiculous. It's—it's—what is it?"
"Anecdote do you mean, Mrs. Ragg?"
"Yes, to be sure. Well, as I was a saying, no sooner do I begin telling him a little nannygoat—no, I mean anecdote, than off he is like a shot."
Minna smiled to herself, and she was far from wondering that the colonel was off like a shot, for well she knew, that when Mrs. Ragg did begin anything concerning the late Mr. Ragg, it usually lasted three quarters of an hour at the very least.
"Minna, Minna!" called Tobias.
"I am here, Tobias."
In another moment she was in the room. Truly it was a pleasant thing to see the face of Tobias, when, his sunshine, as he called Minna, came close to him, and in her soft voice asked him if he was better.
"Don't mind me," said Mrs. Ragg, "I am going to darn a stocking or two. that's all. Just say what you both like. Young folks will be young folks. Bless me, I recollect just as if it were only yesterday, when I used to speak to poor departed Mr. Ragg, who is, premature, dead and gone, in a manner of speaking. Ah, dear me! How the world goes round and round—round and round, continually."
Tobias and Minna were so well accustomed to the garrulity of Mrs. Ragg, and so well aware that she required no answer, that they let her talk on, and did not mind her, as she requested they would not; and so the evening grew apace, and the light gradually began to wane, as those two young loving hearts spoke together of the future, and indulged in that day dream of happiness which can only belong to youth and love.
Todd is skulking round the angle of the garden wall, from which he can get a view of the colonel's house, and yet not be seen himself.
The more he looked the more the desire grew upon him, notwithstanding the immense risk he ran of personal detection, by so doing, to get into the house, and finish the career of poor Tobias. He would have had no particular objection rather to have taken the life of Mrs. Ragg, if it could be easily and comfortably done.
It has been said that there are folks in the world who never forgive any one for doing them a kindness; and such paradoxical views of human nature have been attempted to be laid down as truths; but whether this be so or not, is still to be proved, although it is certain that nothing stirs the evil passions of men who will inflict injury upon the innocent, as to find themselves baffled in their villany. From that moment the matter becomes a personal affair of vengeance.
Hence, since Todd had become thoroughly aware that Tobias had escaped from the death he had intended for him at the mad-house, his rage against the boy knew no bounds.
Indeed, the reader will conclude that it must have been a feeling of no ordinary strength, that, at such a busy and ticklish time, would take Todd to the colonel's house at all.
It was revenge—bitter, uncompromising revenge!
Now, you must know the colonel's house was one of those half-villa, half-mansion-like residences, that are so common in the neighbourhood of London. There was a kind of terrace in the front, and a garden with flowering shrubs, that had a pretty enough appearance, and which at night afforded abundance of shelter.
It was by this front garden that Todd hoped to reach the house.
When it was nearly dark, he slunk in, crouching down among the trees and shrubs, and crawling along like a serpent as he was. He soon came to a flight of stone steps that led to the kitchens.
By the time Todd had got thus far, some of her domestic duties had called Mrs. Ragg to the lower part of the house. He saw by the fire-light that some one was going about the kitchen, close to the foot of the stone steps; but he could not exactly, by that dim and uncertain radiance, take upon himself to say that it was Mrs. Ragg.
She soon lit a candle, though, and then all was clear. He saw the good lady preparing divers lights for the upper rooms.
While Todd was half-way down the stone steps, peeping into the kitchen, one of the other servants of the house came into............