Oakwood

“ There were more than usual subjects of thought on the minds of all the young inmates of Oakwood, before they went to sleep that night. Percy's, Herbert's, and Emmeline's were all peculiarly happy and peaceful. Caroline's were not so agreeable. Praise lavished on others never gave her pleasure: the question would always come, Why did she not receive it too? It was very hard that she so seldom received it, and self-love was always ready to accuse her parents of some degree of partiality rather than herself of unworthiness. ”

“ He had ever loved them, ever sought their happiness, their wishes in preference to his own. Herbert himself had not surpassed him in filial love and reverence, but now, though his feelings were the same, their expression was different; cheerful and animated he still was, but the ringing laugh which had so often echoed through the halls of Oakwood had gone. It seemed as if the death of a brother so beloved, had suddenly transformed Percy Hamilton from the wild and thoughtless pleasure-seeking, joke-loving lad into the calm and serious man. ”

“ Not a Murray was abroad; and to the extreme they carried the threat of the young laird into execution, of making “toom byres.” By scores and by hundreds, they collected together, into one immense herd, horned cattle and sheep, and they drove them before them through the forest towards Oakwood Tower. The laird, in order to repel any rescue that might be attempted, brought up the rear, and, in the joy of his heart, he sang, and, at times, cried aloud, “There will be dry breakfasts in Elibank before the sun gets oot, but a merry meal at Oakwood afore [Pg 4] he gangs doun. ”

“ Pleasing letters from Miss Harcourt arrived by almost every post for one or other of the inmates of Oakwood, and their contents breathing her own happiness, and the warmest, most affectionate interest in the dear ones she had left, satisfied even Emmeline, from whom a fortnight's visit from the Earl and Countess of Elmore had banished all remaining trace of sadness. Mr. ”

“ Woodford’s recipe for preserved cherries, the young people, Charles, Lucy, and their cousin Sedley, now at home for the summer holidays, to spend an afternoon with Mistress Anne.
Great was Lady Archfield’s surprise at finding that Major Oakshott’s cross-grained slip of a boy was still at Portchester.
“If you were forced to take him in for very charity when he was hurt,” she said, “I should have thought you would have been rid of him as soon as he could leave his bed.”
“The road to Oakwood is too rough for broken ribs as yet,” said Mrs. Woodford, “nor is the poor boy ready for discipline.” ”

“ But he’s so wild to see her dat he hang aroun’ in dat town, workin’ odd jobs, an’ at night lookin’ in de window where she sits.
“Den suddenly de folks she’s wif up an’ move away, an’ he cain’t see her no more. He jest cain’t stand it. He finds out dat dey come here to Oakwood, an’ he comes too. But he don’t know which house she live in and he cain’t find her. He gets to wanderin’ around, and one night he comes to de ole big house he uster live in, way up on Main Street Hill. It’s all dark and tumble down, and he thinks he’ll just go in once and look around. ”

“ The lady of the house passed into the kitchen and Frank followed her and motioned her to the back door, out of hearing of the boy.
“I picked him up on the road,” he whispered. “I talked to him and found he was running away from home. He hasn’t had any breakfast or dinner. I talked to him, and he has promised to go back.”
“For the land sakes! Did you ever!” murmured the woman, in amazement. “Do you know, when he passed, I thought he might be a runaway. How foolish! And I suppose he left a good home too!”
“More than likely.”
“Did he tell his name?”
“Bobby Frost.”
“From Oakwood?” ”

“ Before she could say a word, her father had begun again.
“The idea of your sending for me to Pembury! Just like you! As if, when you had come so far, you could not have come on to Chesney Oaks. It’s my house now—and yours. You never do things like anybody else.”
“I did not care to come on, papa,” she answered in a low tone. “I thought—I thought Lady Oakburn might be here, and I did not wish to meet her just now; I have brought very bad news. And I thought, too, of the fever.”
“There’s no danger from that; the poor fellow’s lying in the other wing. ”

“ Slowly great tears welled up into Margaret Woodford's eyes, as she saw and heard the true nature of the secret of Oaklands, and understood.
The quiet man stood out in heroic light, and yet to him how small a matter the punishment inflicted by the law to the daily dread—the covering of the old fault—and the daily, hourly strain to prevent a further fall. ”

“ METAMORPHOSIS
It was a clear, cold night. A knife-edge icy wind blew from the north-east and kept the lanyards dismally flapping on the flag-mast over the customs house. The leave train lay in the station within a biscuit’s throw of the quayside and the black, blank Channel beyond, a long line of cheerfully illuminated windows that to those returning from leave seemed as the last link with home.
The Corporal of Military Police, who stood at the gangway examining the passes, stopped Desmond Okewood as the latter held out his pass into the rays of the man’s lantern. ”

“ The dancer turned her big black eyes full on Desmond as she held out her hand to him.
“Old friends, new friends,” she cried, clapping, her hands like a child, “I love friends. Captaine, here is a very old friend,” she said to Strangwise as Mr. Mackwayte and Barbara came into the rooms, “Monsieur Arthur Mackwayte and ’is daughter. I ’ave know Monsieur Arthur almos’ all my life. And, Mademoiselle, permit me? I introduce le Captaine Strangwise and ’is friend... what is the name? Ah, Major Okewood!”
Nur-el-Din sank into a bergère chair beside her great mirror. ”

“ Would it ever end? she wondered, and the remembrance of that dark, lonely drive, with night settling down around her, never quite faded from her mind, although she little knew then the fears and doubts that were to await her later.
By dint of inquiry at a solitary cottage, which was passed at the top of the hill, they discovered the whereabouts of Oaklands Farm.
In the gloom Margaret could not see what her future home was like, the darkness being increased by the thick trees which surrounded it, only leaving just room for the cab to draw up before the front door. ”

“ It’s as bare as the Sahara!”
“But, good Heavens!” cried Bellward, throwing his hands excitedly above his head, “the man can’t dissolve into thin air. He’s gone back to the house, I tell you, and the police will be here at any minute. You know he’s not in our garden; for you searched every nook and corner of it yourself. Okewood may be too clever for you, Strangwise; but he’s not a magician!”
“No,” said Strangwise sternly, “he is not.” And he added in a low voice:
“That’s why I am convinced that he is in this house!”
Desmond felt his heart thump against his ribs. ”

“ All his life it had been his practice to take a risk, for such is the Irish temperament—if the object to be attained in any way justified it; and he was determined to avoid at all costs the chance of a meeting with Strangwise. The latter had probably read the name of Okewood in that morning’s casualty list, but Desmond felt more than ever that he distrusted the man, and his continued presence in the neighborhood of Nur-el-Din gravely preoccupied him. ”

“ For a moment he felt inclined to reform, abandon dissipation, and apply to some profession. But the impulse was only momentary. How could he, the gay Frank Oakley, the flower of fashion, and admiration of the town (so at least he thought himself,) bend his proud spirit to pore over parchments in a barrister’s chambers, or to smoke British Havanas, and spit over the bridge of a country town, as ensign in a marching regiment? Was he to read himself blind at college, to find himself a curate at thirty, with a hundred a-year, and a breeding wife? ”

“ The black coat and grave aspect of the third stranger sufficiently indicated the doctor, who, on reaching the ground, separated himself from his companions and retired a little to one side. The others bowed to Oakley and myself. M. de Berg’s second stepped forward, and I advanced to meet him. I was particularly pleased with the appearance of Oakley’s antagonist. He was a young man of six or seven and twenty, of very dark complexion, with flashing black eyes and a countenance expressive of daring resolution and a fiery temperament. ”

“ This family, consisting of father, mother and one son, came to Oakdale something like three years ago and settled here. Yet who is there in this town that can tell where they came from and how they happened to come? You’re chummy with the before-mentioned son, Hooker. How much has he ever told you about his past?”
183“Oh, say, Sleuth, if you’re trying to fasten a dark and terrible past upon Fred Sage, you’ll do nothing but make yourself ridiculous. Why, anybody knows that he’s been one of the openest, frankest fellows in the world.” ”

“ He stopped to skirt a tram, then added suddenly:
“Do you know him well, Okewood?”
“Yes, I think I do,” said Desmond. “I lived with him for about three months in France, and we got on top-hole together. He’s a man absolutely without fear.”
“Yes,” agreed the Chief. “But what about his judgment? Would you call him a well-balanced fellow? Or is he one of these harum-scarum soldier of fortune sort of chaps?”
“I should say he was devilish shrewd,” replied the other. “Strangwise is a very able fellow and a fine soldier. ”

“ He gives us all the power we need. When the time of singing birds comes, then a whisper and hum runs through the whole of the forest, and all the big tree world wakes from sleep. Everyone is drowsy at first—some seem almost dead—but gradually we open our eyes and cover our naked limbs, and get out our summer dress, and shake our leafy garments in the sunshine, while the forest folk build new homes in our branches and utter their thoughts of praise." The oak paused.
"We must stop story-telling now," said Margaret; "it is lunch-time."
"No, no—go on—oh, do, please go on, Miss Woodford!" ”

“ In the corner of the Pullman a table was laid for supper. There was a cold chicken, a salad, and a bottle of claret. On another table was a large tin box and a mirror with a couple of electric lights before it. At this table was seated a small man with gray hair studying a large number of photographs.
“If you will have your supper, Major Okewood, sir,” said Matthews, “Mr. Crook here will get to work. We’ve not got too much time.”
The sea air had made Desmond ravenously hungry. He sat down promptly and proceeded to demolish the chicken and make havoc of the salad. ”

“ He let it drop on the fly seat again, with a word that was certainly not a blessing; and the fly went on, and the meeting was over.
There was no fear on Mr. Carlton’s tenance. Triumph now. The unnaturally pale hue which had overspread it during the ceremony had given place to its usual aspect, and he felt more inclined to laugh in Lord Oakburn's face than to fear him. Even the earl could not part them now. ”

“ To one who has been living for weeks in an ill-ventilated pill-box on the Passchendaele Ridge, the lights and music and color of a music-hall seem as a foretaste of Paradise.
And that was what Desmond Okewood thought as a few hours later he found himself with Maurice Strangwise in the stalls of the vast Palaceum auditorium. In the unwonted luxury of evening clothes he felt clean and comfortable, and the cigar he way smoking was the climax of one of Julien’s most esoteric efforts. ”

“ The oldest inhabitants of Oakland had “never seen the like before,” and they shook their gray heads ominously as over and adown the New England mountains the howling wind swept furiously, now shrieking exultingly as one by one the huge forest trees bent before its power, and again dying away in a low, sad wail, as it shook the casement of some low-roofed cottage, where the blazing fire, “high piled upon the hearth,” danced merrily to the sound of the storm-wind, and then, whirling in fantastic circles, disappeared up the broad-mouthed chimney. ”

“ Weeks drifted into months, and Margaret, much to the satisfaction of the inmates of Oaklands, was still at her post. Mrs. Crane had written and invited her to spend the summer holiday with her in August, but the thought of seeing the Abbey House again seemed more than she could bear just then, and so her old friend's invitation had been refused, and Margaret stayed on in the new environment, each day becoming more necessary in the home of her employers. Another letter had arrived from Mrs. Crane this morning, which yet remained to be answered when she felt there was more news to write about. ”

“ The Chief rose from his chair with a sigh.
“Nothing is preposterous in our work, Okewood,” he replied. “But it’s 3.25, and my French colleague hates to be kept waiting.”
“I thought you were seeing Strangwise, at two?” asked Desmond.
“I put him off until six o’clock,” replied the Chief, “he knows Nur-el-Din, and he may be able to give Marigold some pointers about this affair. You’re off to see Miss Mackwayte now, I suppose. You know where she’s staying? Good. Well, I’ll say good-bye, Okewood. I shan’t see you again...” ”

“ They’ve told me how the fellers have been ’round every day to ask how I was gettin’ on; they say even Barker’s been here more’n once. Seems queer folks in Oakdale should care a rap about me.”
“Bunk, they do care—everybody cares. You’ll find when you get out that you haven’t an enemy in this town—that every living soul in Oakdale is your friend.” ”