Chapter 38

_Enter JARVIS._

_Mrs. Bev._ Are tears then chearful? Alas, he weeps! Speak to him Charlotte: I have no tongue to ask him questions.

_Char._ How does your master, Jarvis?

_Jar._ I am old and foolish, madam; and tears will come before my words--But don't You weep. (_To Mrs. Beverley._) I have a tale of joy for you.

_Mrs. Bev._ What tale? Say but he's well, and I have joy enough.

_Jar._ His mind too shall be well; all shalt be well--I have news for him that shall make his poor heart bound again!--Fie upon old age! how childish it makes me! I have a tale of joy for you, and my tears drown it.

_Char._ Shed them in showers then, and make haste to tell it.

_Mrs. Bev._ What is it, Jarvis?

_Jar._ Yet why should I rejoice when a good man dies? Your uncle, madam, died yesterday.

_Mrs. Bev._ My uncle!--O heavens!

_Char._ How heard you of his death?

_Jar._ His steward came express, madam: I met him in the street, enquiring for your lodgings. I should not rejoice, perhaps; but he was old, and my poor master a prisoner--Now he shall live again--O, 'tis a brave fortune! and 'twas death to me to see him a prisoner.

_Char._ Where left you the steward?

_Jar._ I would not bring him hither, to be a witness of your distresses--and besides, I wanted once before I die, to be the messenger of joy t'you. My good master will be a man again.

_Mrs. Bev._ Haste, haste then; and let us fly to him!--We are delaying our own happiness.

_Jar._ I had forgot a coach, madam; and Lucy has ordered one.

_Mrs. Bev._ Where was the need of that? The news has given me wings.

_Char._ I have no joy, till my poor brother shares it with me. How did he pass the night, Jarvis?

_Jar._ Why now, madam, I can tell you. Like a man dreaming of death and horrors. When they led him to his cell--for 'twas a poor apartment for my master--he flung himself upon a wretched bed, and lay speechless till day-break. A sigh now and then, and a few tears that followed those sighs, were all that told me he was alive. I spoke to him, but he would not hear me; and when I persisted, he raised his hand at me, and knit his brow so--I thought he would have struck me.

_Mrs. Bev._ O miserable! But what said he, Jarvis? Or was he silent all night?

_Jar._ At day-break he started from the bed, and looking wildly at me, asked who I was. I told him, and bid him be of comfort--Begone, old wretch, says he--I have sworn never to know comfort--My wife! my child! my sister! I have undone them all, and will know no comfort--Then letting go his hold, and falling upon his knees, he imprecated curses on himself.

_Mrs. Bev._ This is too horrible!--But you did not leave him so?

_Char._ No, I am sure he did not.

_Jar._ I had not the heart, madam. By degrees I brought him to himself. A shower of tears came to his relief; and then he called me his kindest friend, and begged forgiveness of me like a child--I was a child too, when he begged forgiveness of me; my heart throbbed so, I could not speak to him. He turned from me for a minute or two, and suppressing a few bitter sighs, enquired after his wretched family--Wretched was his word, madam--Asked how you bore the misery of last night--If you had goodness enough to see him in prison--And then begged me to hasten to you. I told him he must be more himself first--He promised me he would; and, bating a few sullen intervals, he became composed and easy. And then I left him; but not without an attendant; a servant in the prison, whom I hired to wait upon him. 'Tis an hour since we parted: I was prevented in my haste, to be the messenger of joy t'you.

_Mrs. Bev._ What a tale is this?--But we have staid too long--A coach is needless.

_Char._ Hark! I hear one at the door.

_Jar._ And Lucy comes to tell us--We'll away this moment.

_Mrs. Bev._ To comfort him, or die with him. [_Exeunt._