53. CHAPTER LIII.
THE SECOND ATTACK.
Dr. Wills had just turned over in bed, about daylight, on the
morning following these scenes, to take another nap, when a violent
knocking at the front door of his house aroused him, and hastening
to the window, he put out his head, demanding the cause of the
assault upon his door.
The reply was given by a servant from Oakhill. Colonel Hartright
had a new attack like the last, and might be dead before the
doctor could reach him.
Dr. Wills hastened to dress, and taking the servant's horse to
save time, galloped to Oakhill.
The attack had been extremely sudden, following a hearty supper,
and was worse than the first. Nothing saved the patient but instant
and profuse bleeding. Even then, he did not open his eyes
for more than an hour. When he did so, he gazed blankly around
him, and did not recognize Dr. Wills or anybody.
All that day he lay in a stupor. Toward evening, he moaned and
said, faintly,
“Doctor—send for—Sainty Harley.”
“He and his brother are both down stairs, sir.”
“No—not—Justin! Tell—Sainty.”
The boy came up, his eyes wet with tears, and could only say, as
he approached the bed,
“Oh! uncle! uncle!”
The feeble hand of the rich man rose and took that of the boy.
“You are—you are—”
The flushed face of Sainty Harley, as he listened to these broken
and faltering words, showed his deep emotion.
Suddenly the poor old man burst out crying, and gripped the
boy's hand hard.
“Come close! Come close!” he said, in a trembling voice.
The boy bent over him.
“The very face!—the very face!”
He burst out crying again.
“The very image of my dear brother George!”
After this the sick man closed his eyes, add began to sob, exclaiming
from time to time,
“Huntsdon! To be sold! Hicks! My brother! My brother!”
Dr. Wills was about to urge the young man to retire, when
Colonel Hartright opened his eyes, and said:
“Send for Justin!”
Dr. Wills hesitated.
“Your condition is such I fear, my dear sir—”
“Send for Justin!”
There was no opposing that determined will. The old nabob
was master on his sick bed as everywhere.
Ten minutes afterwards Justin Harley came in, and, going to the
bedside, stood there perfectly silent and motionless. An immense
pity and sweetness, as of a woman, shone in his eyes.
“Uncle—”
The voice aroused the sick man.
“Thank God! you sent for me, uncle, and give me this opportunity
to tell you how much I love you! I have been cold—hard,
perhaps; it was in my voice only. I should have remembered—”
The strong Justin Harley quite broke down. The old man looked
up at him, dreamily.
“You are—like your mother!”
Harley's eyes filled with tears.
“You were always a good boy, Justin. Be prudent. Do not—
Huntsdon—Hicks—!”
He stopped, his breast heaving.
“Huntsdon must not go to Hicks!”
Harley had already understood from his uncle's broken words
that he had been informed of the danger to which the old Harley
estate was exposed.
“Do not fear, sir,” he said. “Mr. Hicks will not be master at
Huntsdon. The debt will be paid—by Sainty.”
“By—Sainty?”
“I shall give him the property. In forty-eight hours the deed
will be executed.”
“Give him—the property?”
“Harley replied with deep sadness, for the face of the sick man
filled him with sorrowful affection.
“I mean Sainty to have the estate, uncle. I am going away. I
am unfortunate, and bring ill-fortune.”
The feeble hand on the coverlid stirred a little.
“Justin!”
“Uncle.”
His lips moved, but no sound issued from them.
Dr. Wills touched Harley's shoulder.
“This interview is injurious to Colonel Hartright, my dear sir,”
he whispered.
“Yes, I will not prolong it.'
He turned to take a last look at the poor old man, who was lying
with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. Tears came to his eyes as
he looked. He bent down, raised the feeble hand, and touched it
with his lips. At that touch the sick man's drooping eyelids were
raised; he looked at Harley with flushed cheeks, and burst out
sobbing.
“You are—you are—like—your mother! And Sainty, he is
like—George!”
The eyes closed, and Harley, warned by a look from Dr. Wills,
went slowly from the room, taking his brother with him.
