Moreover, Lady Temple's mind became extremely uneasy as to the manner
in which Rachel might accept her exploit. All her valour departed as she
figured to herself that young lady discrediting the alarm, and resenting
her interference. She did not repent, she knew she could not have helped
it, and she had rather have been tortured by Rachel than have left the
victims another hour to the F. U. E. E., but she was full of nervous
anxiety, little as she yet guessed at the full price of her courage; and
she uttered more than once the fervent wish that the Colonel had been
there, for he would have known what to do. And Alison each time replied,
"I wish it with all my heart!"
Wrought up at last to the pitch of nervousness that must rush on the
crisis at once, and take the bull by the horns, this valiant piece of
cowardice declared that she could not even return the girls to their
homes till Rachel knew all about it, and gave the word to drive to the
Homestead, further cheered by the recollection that Colonel Keith would
probably be there, having been asked to luncheon, as he could not dine
out, to meet Mr. Grey. Moreover, Mr. Grey was a magistrate and would
know what was to be done.
Thus the whole party at the Homestead were assembled near the door,
when, discerning them too late to avoid them, Lady Temple's equipage
drew up in the peculiarly ungraceful fashion of waggonettes, when they
prepare to shoot their passengers out behind.
Conrade, the only person who had the advantage of a previous view, stood
up on the box, and before making his descent, shouted out, "Oh, Aunt
Rachel, your F. U. thing is as bad as the Sepoys. But we have saved the
two little girls that they were whipping to death, and have got them in
the carriage."
While this announcement was being delivered, Alison Williams, the
nearest to the door, had emerged. She lifted out the little muffled
figure of Lovedy, set her on her feet, and then looking neither to the
right nor left, as if she saw and thought of no one else, made but one
bound towards Colonel Keith, clasped both hands round his arm, turned
him away from the rest, and with her black brows drawn close together,
gasped under her breath, "O, Colin, Colin, it is Maria Hatherton."
"What! the matron?"
"Yes, the woman that has used these poor children like a savage. O,
Colin, it is frightful."
"You should sit down, you are almost ready to faint."
"Nothing! nothing! But the poor girls are in such a state. And that
Maria whom we taught, and--" Alison stopped.
"Did she know you?"
"I can't tell. Perhaps; but I did not know her till the last moment."