Upon those moments of rapture followed days of trembling, during which
the sands of Richard Calmady's life ran very low, and his brain
wandered in delirium, and he spoke unwittingly of many matters of which
it was unprofitable to hear. Periods of unconsciousness, when he lay as
one dead; periods of incessant utterance--now violent in unavailing
repudiation, now harsh with unavailing remorse--alternated. And, at
this juncture, much of Lady Calmady's former very valiant pride
asserted itself. In tender jealousy for the honour of her beloved one
she shut the door of that sick-room, of sinister aspect, against
brother and friend, and even against the faithful Clara. None should
see or hear Richard in his present alienation and abjection, save
herself and those who had hitherto ministered to him. He should regain
a measure, at least, of his old distinction and beauty before any,
beyond these, looked on his face. And so his own men-servants--Captain
Vanstone, capable, humorous, and alert--and Price, the red-headed,
Welsh first-mate, of varied and voluminous gift of invective--continued
to nurse him. These men loved him. They would be loyal in silence,
since, whatever his lapses, Dickie was and always had been--as
Katherine reflected--among the number of those happily-endowed persons
who triumphantly give the lie to the cynical saying that "no man is a
hero to his _valet de chambre_."
To herself Katherine reserved the right to enter that sinister
sick-room whenever she pleased, and to sit by the bedside, waiting for
the moment--should it ever come--when Richard would again recognise
her, and give himself to her again. And those vigils proved a searching
enough experience, notwithstanding her long apprenticeship to service
of sorrow--which was also the service of her son. For, in the mental
and moral nudity of delirium, he made strange revelation, not only of
acts committed, but of inherent tendencies of character and of thought.
He spoke, with bewildering inconsequence and intimacy, of incidents and
of persons with whom she was unacquainted, causing her to follow him--a
rather brutal pilgrimage--into regions where the feet of women, bred
and nurtured like herself, but seldom tread. He spoke of persons with
whom she was well acquainted also, and whose names arrested her
attention with pathetic significance, offering, for the moment, secure
standing ground amid the shifting quicksand of his but half-comprehended
words. He
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