'Have you told Frederick?' asked she.
'No,' said Dixon. 'I were uneasy in my mind at knowing that bad
Leonards was in town; but there was so much else to think about
that I did not dwell on it at all. But when I saw master sitting
so stiff, and with his eyes so glazed and sad, I thought it might
rouse him to have to think of Master Frederick's safety a bit. So
I told him all, though I blushed to say how a young man had been
speaking to me. And it has done master good. And if we're to keep
Master Frederick in hiding, he would have to go, poor fellow,
before Mr. Bell came.' 'Oh, I'm not afraid of Mr. Bell; but I am afraid of this
Leonards. I must tell Frederick. What did Leonards look like?' 'A bad-looking fellow, I can assure you, miss. Whiskers such as I
should be ashamed to wear--they are so red. And for all he said
he'd got a confidential situation, he was dressed in fustian just
like a working-man.' It was evident that Frederick must go. Go, too, when he had so
completely vaulted into his place in the family, and promised to
be such a stay and staff to his father and sister. Go, when his
cares for the living mother, and sorrow for the dead, seemed to
make him one of those peculiar people who are bound to us by a
fellow-love for them that are taken away. Just as Margaret was
thinking all this, sitting over the drawing-room fire--her father
restless and uneasy under the pressure of this newly-aroused
fear, of which he had not as yet spoken--Frederick came in, his
brightness dimmed, but the extreme violence of his grief passed
away. He came up to Margaret, and kissed her forehead.
'How wan you look, Margaret!' said he in a low voice. 'You have
been thinking of everybody, and no one has thought of you. Lie on
this sofa--there is nothing for you to do.' 'That is the worst,' said Margaret, in a sad whisper. But she
went and lay down, and her brother covered her feet with a shawl,
and then sate on the ground by her side; and the two began to
talk in a subdued tone.
Margaret told him all that Dixon had related of her interview
with young Leonards. Frederick's lips closed with a long whew of
dismay.
'I should just like to have it out with that young fellow. A
worse sailor was never on board ship--nor a much worse man
either. I declare, Margaret--you know the circumstances of the
whole affair?' 'Yes, mamma told me.' 'Well, when all the sailors who were good for anything were
indignant with our captain, this fellow, to curry favour--pah!
And to think of his being here! Oh, if he'd a notion I was within
twenty miles of him, he'd ferret me out to pay off old grudges.
I'd rather anybody had the hundred pounds they think I am worth
than that rascal. What a pity poor old Dixon could not be
persuaded to give me up, and make a provision for her old age!' 'Oh, Frederick, hush! Don't talk so.' Mr. Hale came towards them, eager and trembling. He had overheard
what they were saying. He took Frederick's hand in both of his: 'My boy, you must go. It is very bad--but I see you must. You
have done all you could--you have been a comfort to her.' 'Oh, papa, must he go?' said Margaret, pleading against her own
conviction of necessity.