Heartsease or Brother's Wife HTML version

Chapter III.7
'Mid sombre shades of evening dim
Upon the rock so lone, so drear,
Scorning weak frame and sinking limb,
My heart grows bright and bold of cheer;
Out of the depths of stormy night
My hope looks up with cloudless eyes,
And to the one true deathless light,
Its joyful pinions swiftly rise:
Thanks to the seraph shape that beamed
Benign upon my darkened breast,
So for her service worthy deemed,
My grateful heart abounds in rest.
FOUQUE'S Minstrel Love
'Wrangerton, August 20th.
'You must not be frightened, dearest Violet--Albert is safe; thanks to that most
noble-hearted, admirable Lord St. Erme, and above all, thanks to Him who
directed this dreadful stroke away from us. I hope you will receive this before you
see the newspaper. Mamma has gone up with them, to help them to break it to
poor Lady Lucy. May she be supported!
'The history, as far as I can toll you, is this:--The men at the collieries have been
as troublesome and insubordinate as ever, seeming to think opposition to Lord
St. Erme an assertion of their rights as free-born Englishmen; and at last, finding
it impossible to do anything with them as long as they did not depend
immediately upon himself, he took the pits into his own hands when Mr.
Shoreham went away, a fortnight ago. It seems that Mr. Shoreham, knowing that
he was going, had let everything fall into a most neglected state, and the
overlookers brought reports to Albert that there were hardly any safety-lamps
used in the great pit, and that the galleries were so insufficiently supported that
there was great danger in continuing to work there. However, the reports were
contradictory, and after trying in vain to settle what was to be done, Lord St.
Erme rode this morning to the collieries, to make a personal inspection, and insist
on the men using the Davy-lamp. After trying to dissuade him, Albert proposed to
go down with him; but he would not consent--he only smiled, and said there was
no need for it. It did not strike Albert till afterwards that he was conscious of the
risk, and would not allow another to share it! He was waiting for him, not far from
the shaft, when the earth seemed to give way under his feet; there was a
thundering sound, a great cry, and he fell. When he recovered his footing, the
mouth of the shaft was gone, the scaffolding prostrate, the people around in
horror and consternation. The pit had fallen in, and there were at least twenty
men there, besides Lord St. Erme. Oh! how you will share that shuddering
thankfulness and sorrow, that we felt, when Albert galloped up to the door and
threw himself into the arm-chair, so unnerved by the shock that he could not at
first speak. Happily his wife was here, so she heard all at once. He is gone with