Could Hugh have known the feelings with which Alice Johnson already
regarded him, and the opinion she had expressed to Muggins, it would
perhaps have stilled the fierce throbbings of his heart, which sent the
hot blood so swiftly through his veins, and made him from the first
delirious. They had found him in the quiet court, just after the
sunsetting, and his uncovered head was already wet with the falling dew,
and with the profuse perspiration induced by his long, heavy sleep. They
could not arouse him to a distinct consciousness as to where he was or
what had happened. He only talked of Ad and the Golden Haired, asking
that they would take him anywhere, where neither could ever see him
again. He was well known at the hotel, and measures were immediately
taken for apprising his family of the sudden illness, and for removing
him to Spring Bank as soon as possible.
Breakfast was not yet over at Spring Bank, and Aunt Eunice was just
wondering what could have become of Hugh, when from her position near
the window she discovered a horseman riding across the lawn at a rate
which betokened some important errand. Alice spied him, too, and the
same thought flashed over both herself and Aunt Eunice. "Something had
befallen Hugh."
Alice was the first upon the piazza, where she stood waiting till the
rider came up, his horse covered with foam, and himself flurried and
excited.
"Are you Miss Worthington?" he asked, doffing his soft hat, and feeling
a thrill of wonder at sight of her marvelous beauty.
"Miss Worthington is not at home," she said, going down the steps and
advancing closer to him, "but I can take your message. Is anything the
matter with Mr. Worthington?"
Aunt Eunice had now joined her, and listened breathlessly while the
young man told of Hugh's illness, which threatened to be the prevailing
fever.
"They were bringing him home," he said--"were now on the way, and he had
ridden in advance to prepare them for his coming."
Aunt Eunice seemed literally stunned and wholly incapable of action,
while the negroes howled dismally for Mas'r Hugh, who, Chloe said, was
sure to die.
"She'd felt it all along. She knew dem dogs hadn't howled for nothing,
nor them deathwatches ticked in the wall. Mas'r Hugh was gwine to die,
and all the blacks would be sold--down the river, most likely, if Harney
didn't get 'em," and crouching by the kitchen fire old Chloe bewailed
the calamity she knew was about to befall them.
Alice alone was calm and capable of action. A room must be prepared, and
somebody must direct, but to find the somebody was a most difficult
matter. Chloe couldn't, Hannah couldn't, Aunt Eunice couldn't, and
consequently it all devolved upon herself.