Chapter 8
1456 Words
The following Wednesday, when Mr. and Mrs. Hackit were seated comfortably
by their bright hearth, enjoying the long afternoon afforded by an early
dinner, Rachel, the housemaid, came in and said,--'If you please 'm, the
shepherd says, have you heard as Mrs. Barton's wuss, and not expected to
live?'
Mrs. Hackit turned pale, and hurried out to question the shepherd, who,
she found, had heard the sad news at an ale-house in the village. Mr.
Hackit followed her out and said, 'Thee'dst better have the pony-chaise,
and go directly.'
'Yes,' said Mrs. Hackit, too much overcome to utter any exclamations.
'Rachel, come an' help me on wi' my things.'
When her husband was wrapping her cloak round her feet in the
pony-chaise, she said,--'If I don't come home to-night, I shall send back
the pony-chaise, and you'll know I'm wanted there.'
'Yes, yes.'
It was a bright frosty day, and by the time Mrs. Hackit arrived at the
Vicarage, the sun was near its setting. There was a carriage and pair
standing at the gate, which she recognized as Dr Madeley's, the physician
from Rotherby. She entered at the kitchen door that she might avoid
knocking, and quietly question Nanny. No one was in the kitchen, but,
passing on, she saw the sitting-room door open, and Nanny, with Walter in
her arms, removing the knives and forks, which had been laid for dinner
three hours ago.
'Master says he can't eat no dinner,' was Nanny's first word. 'He's never
tasted nothin' sin' yesterday mornin', but a cup o' tea.'
'When was your missis took worse?'
'O' Monday night. They sent for Dr Madeley i' the middle o' the day
yisterday, an' he's here again now.'
'Is the baby alive?'
'No, it died last night. The children's all at Mrs. Bond's. She come and
took 'em away last night, but the master says they must be fetched soon.
He's up-stairs now, wi' Dr Madeley and Mr. Brand.'
At this moment Mrs. Hackit heard the sound of a heavy, slow foot, in the
passage; and presently Amos Barton entered, with dry despairing eyes,
haggard and unshaven. He expected to find the sitting-room as he left it,
with nothing to meet his eyes but Milly's work-basket in the corner of
the sofa, and the children's toys overturned in the bow-window. But when
he saw Mrs. Hackit come towards him with answering sorrow in her face,
the pent-up fountain of tears was opened; he threw himself on the sofa,
hid his face, and sobbed aloud.
'Bear up, Mr. Barton,' Mrs. Hackit ventured to say at last; 'bear up, for
the sake o' them dear children.'
'The children,' said Amos, starting up. 'They must be sent for. Some one
must fetch them. Milly will want to ...'
He couldn't finish the sentence, but Mrs. Hackit understood him, and
said, 'I'll send the man with the pony-carriage for 'em.'
She went out to give the order, and encountered Dr Madeley and Mr. Brand,
who were just going.
Mr. Brand said: 'I am very glad to see you are here, Mrs. Hackit. No time
must be lost in sending for the children. Mrs. Barton wants to see them.'
'Do you quite give her up then?'
'She can hardly live through the night. She begged us to tell her how
long she had to live; and then asked for the children.'
The pony-carriage was sent; and Mrs. Hackit, returning to Mr. Barton,
said she would like to go up-stairs now. He went up-stairs with her and
opened the door. The chamber fronted the west; the sun was just setting,
and the red light fell full upon the bed, where Milly lay with the hand
of death visibly upon her. The feather-bed had been removed, and she lay
low on a mattress, with her head slightly raised by pillows. Her long
fair neck seemed to be struggling with a painful effort; her features
were pallid and pinched, and her eyes were closed. There was no one in
the room but the nurse, and the mistress of the free school, who had come
to give her help from the beginning of the change.
Amos and Mrs. Hackit stood beside the bed, and Milly opened her eyes.
'My darling, Mrs. Hackit is come to see you.'
Milly smiled and looked at her with that strange, far-off look which
belongs to ebbing life.
'Are the children coming?' she said, painfully.
'Yes, they will be here directly.'
She closed her eyes again.
Presently the pony-carriage was heard; and Amos, motioning to Mrs. Hackit
to follow him, left the room. On their way downstairs she suggested that
the carriage should remain to take them away again afterwards, and Amos
assented.
There they stood in the melancholy sitting-room--the five sweet children,
from Patty to Chubby--all, with their mother's eyes--all, except Patty,
looking up with a vague fear at their father as he entered. Patty
understood the great sorrow that was come upon them, and tried to check
her sobs as she heard her papa's footsteps.
'My children,' said Amos, taking Chubby in his arms, 'God is going to
take away your dear mamma from us. She wants to see you to say good-bye.
You must try to be very good and not cry.'
He could say no more, but turned round to see if Nanny was there with
Walter, and then led the way up-stairs, leading Dickey with the other
hand. Mrs. Hackit followed with Sophy and Patty, and then came Nanny with
Walter and Fred.
It seemed as if Milly had heard the little footsteps on the stairs, for
when Amos entered her eyes were wide open, eagerly looking towards the
door. They all stood by the bedside--Amos nearest to her, holding Chubby
and Dickey. But she motioned for Patty to come first, and clasping the
poor pale child by the hand, said,--'Patty, I'm going away from you. Love
your papa. Comfort him; and take care of your little brothers and
sisters. God will help you.'
Patty stood perfectly quiet, and said, 'Yes, mamma.'
The mother motioned with her pallid lips for the dear child to lean
towards her and kiss her; and then Patty's great anguish overcame her,
and she burst into sobs. Amos drew her towards him and pressed her head
gently to him, while Milly beckoned Fred and Sophy, and said to them more
faintly,--'Patty will try to be your mamma when I am gone, my darlings.
You will be good and not vex her.'
They leaned towards her, and she stroked their fair heads, and kissed
their tear-stained cheeks. They cried because mamma was ill and papa
looked so unhappy; but they thought, perhaps next week things would be as
they used to be again.
The little ones were lifted on the bed to kiss her. Little Walter said,
'Mamma, mamma', and stretched out his fat arms and smiled; and Chubby
seemed gravely wondering; but Dickey, who had been looking fixedly at
her, with lip hanging down, ever since he came into the room, now seemed
suddenly pierced with the idea that mamma was going away somewhere; his
little heart swelled and he cried aloud.
Then Mrs. Hackit and Nanny took them all away. Patty at first begged to
stay at home and not go to Mrs. Bond's again; but when Nanny reminded her
that she had better go to take care of the younger ones, she submitted at
once, and they were all packed in the pony-carriage once more.
Milly kept her eyes shut for some time after the children were gone. Amos
had sunk on his knees, and was holding her hand while he watched her
face. By-and-by she opened her eyes, and, drawing him close to her,
whispered slowly,--'My dear--dear--husband--you have been--very--good to
me. You--have--made me--very--happy.'
She spoke no more for many hours. They watched her breathing becoming
more and more difficult, until evening deepened into night, and until
midnight was past. About half-past twelve she seemed to be trying to
speak, and they leaned to catch her words. 'Music--music--didn't you hear
it?'
Amos knelt by the bed and held her hand in his. He did not believe in his
sorrow. It was a bad dream. He did not know when she was gone. But Mr.
Brand, whom Mrs. Hackit had sent for before twelve o'clock, thinking that
Mr. Barton might probably need his help, now came up to him, and
said,--'She feels no more pain now. Come, my dear sir, come with me.'
'She isn't _dead_?' shrieked the poor desolate man, struggling to shake
off Mr. Brand, who had taken him by the arm. But his weary weakened frame
was not equal to resistance, and he was dragged out of the room.
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