Persuasion
but for Captain Benwick and Anne, who caught and supported her between
them.
“Is there no one to help me?” were the first words which burst from
Captain Wentworth, in a tone of despair, and as if all his own strength
were gone.
“Go to him, go to him,” cried Anne, “for heaven’s sake go to him. I can
support her myself. Leave me, and go to him. Rub her hands, rub her
temples; here are salts; take them, take them.”
Captain Benwick obeyed, and Charles at the same moment, disengaging
himself from his wife, they were both with him; and Louisa was raised
up and supported more firmly between them, and everything was done that
Anne had prompted, but in vain; while Captain Wentworth, staggering
against the wall for his support, exclaimed in the bitterest agony—
“Oh God! her father and mother!”
“A surgeon!” said Anne.
He caught the word; it seemed to rouse him at once, and saying
only—“True, true, a surgeon this instant,” was darting away, when Anne
eagerly suggested—
“Captain Benwick, would not it be better for Captain Benwick? He knows
where a surgeon is to be found.”
Every one capable of thinking felt the advantage of the idea, and in a
moment (it was all done in rapid moments) Captain Benwick had resigned
the poor corpse-like figure entirely to the brother’s care, and was off
for the town with the utmost rapidity.
As to the wretched party left behind, it could scarcely be said which
of the three, who were completely rational, was suffering most: Captain
Wentworth, Anne, or Charles, who, really a very affectionate brother,
hung over Louisa with sobs of grief, and could only turn his eyes from
one sister, to see the other in a state as insensible, or to witness
the hysterical agitations of his wife, calling on him for help which he
could not give.
Anne, attending with all the strength and zeal, and thought, which
instinct supplied, to Henrietta, still tried, at intervals, to suggest
comfort to the others, tried to quiet Mary, to animate Charles, to
assuage the feelings of Captain Wentworth. Both seemed to look to her
for directions.
“Anne, Anne,” cried Charles, “What is to be done next? What, in
heaven’s name, is to be done next?”
Captain Wentworth’s eyes were also turned towards her.
“Had not she better be carried to the inn? Yes, I am sure: carry her
gently to the inn.”
“Yes, yes, to the inn,” repeated Captain Wentworth, comparatively
collected, and eager to be doing something. “I will carry her myself.
Musgrove, take care of the others.”
By this time the report of the accident had spread among the workmen
and boatmen about the Cobb, and many were collected near them, to be
useful if wanted, at any rate, to enjoy the sight of a dead young lady,
nay, two dead young ladies, for it proved twice as fine as the first
report. To some of the best-looking of these good people Henrietta was
consigned, for, though partially revived, she was quite helpless; and
in this manner, Anne walking by her side, and Charles attending to his
wife, they set forward, treading back with feelings unutterable, the
ground, which so lately, so very lately, and so light of heart, they
had passed along.
They were not off the Cobb, before the Harvilles met them. Captain
Benwick had been seen flying by their house, with a countenance which
showed something to be wrong; and they had set off immediately,
informed and directed as they passed, towards the spot. Shocked as
Captain Harville was, he brought senses and nerves that could be
instantly useful; and a look between him and his wife decided what was
to be done. She must be taken to their house; all must go to their
house; and await the surgeon’s arrival there. They would not listen to
scruples: he was obeyed; they were all beneath his roof; and while
Louisa, under Mrs Harville’s direction, was conveyed up stairs, and
given possession of her own bed, assistance, cordials, restoratives
were supplied by her husband to all who needed them.
Louisa had once opened her eyes, but soon closed them again, without
apparent consciousness. This had been a proof of life, however, of
service to her sister; and Henrietta, though perfectly incapable of
being in the same room with Louisa, was kept, by the agitation of hope
and fear, from a return of her own insensibility. Mary, too, was
growing calmer.
The surgeon was with them almost before it had seemed possible. They
were sick with horror, while he examined; but he was not hopeless. The
head had received a severe contusion, but he had seen greater injuries
recovered from: he was by no means hopeless; he spoke cheerfully.
That he did not regard it as a desperate case, that he did not say a
few hours must end it, was at first felt, beyond the hope of most; and
the ecstasy of such a reprieve, the rejoicing, deep and silent, after a
few fervent ejaculations of gratitude to Heaven had been offered, may
be conceived.
The tone, the look, with which “Thank God!” was uttered by Captain
Wentworth, Anne was sure could never be forgotten by her; nor the sight
of him afterwards, as he sat near a table, leaning over it with folded
arms and face concealed, as if overpowered by the various feelings of
his soul, and trying by prayer and reflection to calm them.
Louisa’s limbs had escaped. There was no injury but to the head.
It now became necessary for the party to consider what was best to be
done, as to their general situation. They were now able to speak to
each other and consult. That Louisa must remain where she was, however
distressing to her friends to be involving the Harvilles in such
trouble, did not admit a doubt. Her removal was impossible. The
Harvilles silenced all scruples; and, as much as they could, all
gratitude. They had looked forward and arranged everything before the
others began to reflect. Captain Benwick must give up his room to them,
and get another bed elsewhere; and the whole was settled. They were
only concerned that the house could accommodate no more; and yet
perhaps, by “putting the children away in the maid’s room, or swinging
a cot somewhere,” they could hardly bear to think of not finding room
for two or three besides, supposing they might wish to stay; though,
with regard to any attendance on Miss Musgrove, there need not be the
least uneasiness in leaving her to Mrs Harville’s care entirely. Mrs
Harville was a very experienced nurse, and her nursery-maid, who had
lived with her long, and gone about with her everywhere, was just such
another. Between these two, she could want no possible attendance by
day or night. And all this was said with a truth and sincerity of
feeling irresistible.
Charles, Henrietta, and Captain Wentworth were the three in
consultation, and for a little while it was only an interchange of
perplexity and terror. “Uppercross, the necessity of some one’s going
to Uppercross; the news to be conveyed; how it could be broken to Mr
and Mrs Musgrove; the lateness of the morning; an hour already gone
since they ought to have been off; the impossibility of being in
tolerable time.” At first, they were capable of nothing more to the
purpose than such exclamations; but, after a while, Captain Wentworth,
exerting himself, said—
“We must be decided, and without the loss of another minute. Every
minute is valuable. Some one must resolve on being off for Uppercross
instantly. Musgrove, either you or I must go.”
Charles agreed, but declared his resolution of not going away. He would
be as little incumbrance as possible to Captain and Mrs Harville; but
as to leaving his sister in such a state, he neither ought, nor would.
So far it was decided; and Henrietta at first declared the same. She,
however, was soon persuaded to think differently. The usefulness of her
staying! She who had not been able to remain in Louisa’s room, or to
look at her, without sufferings which made her worse than helpless! She
was forced to acknowledge that she could do no good, yet was still
unwilling to be away, till, touched by the thought of her father and
mother, she gave it up; she consented, she was anxious to be at home.
The plan had reached this point, when Anne, coming quietly down from
Louisa’s room, could not but hear what followed, for the parlour door
was open.
“Then it is settled, Musgrove,” cried Captain Wentworth, “that you
stay, and that I take care of your sister home. But as to the rest, as
to the others, if one stays to assist Mrs Harville, I think it need be
only one. Mrs Charles Musgrove will, of course, wish to get back to her
children; but if Anne will stay, no one so proper, so capable as Anne.”
She paused a moment to recover from the emotion of hearing herself so
spoken of. The other two warmly agreed with what he said, and she then
appeared.
“You will stay, I am sure; you will stay and nurse her;” cried he,
turning to her and speaking with a glow, and yet a gentleness, which
seemed almost restoring the past. She coloured deeply, and he
recollected himself and moved away. She expressed herself most willing,
ready, happy to remain. “It was what she had been thinking of, and
wishing to be allowed to do. A bed on the floor in Louisa’s room would
be sufficient for her, if Mrs Harville would but think so.”
One thing more, and all seemed arranged. Though it was rather desirable
that Mr and Mrs Musgrove should be previously alarmed by some share of
delay; yet the time required by the Uppercross horses to take them
back, would be a dreadful extension of suspense; and Captain Wentworth
proposed, and Charles Musgrove agreed, that it would be much better for
him to take a chaise from the inn, and leave Mr Musgrove’s carriage and
horses to be sent home the next morning early, when there would be the
farther advantage of sending an account of Louisa’s night.
Captain Wentworth now hurried off to get everything ready on his part,
and to be soon followed by the two ladies. When the plan was made known
to Mary, however, there was an end of all peace in it. She was so
wretched and so vehement, complained so much of injustice in being
expected to go away instead of Anne; Anne, who was nothing to Louisa,
while she was her sister, and had the best right to stay in Henrietta’s
stead! Why was not she to be as useful as Anne? And to go home without
Charles, too, without her husband! No, it was too unkind. And in short,
she said more than her husband could long withstand, and as none of the
others could oppose when he gave way, there was no help for it; the
change of Mary for Anne was inevitable.
Anne had never submitted more reluctantly to the jealous and
ill-judging claims of Mary; but so it must be, and they set off for the
town, Charles taking care of his sister, and Captain Benwick attending
to her. She gave a moment’s recollection, as they hurried along, to the
little circumstances which the same spots had witnessed earlier in the
morning. There she had listened to Henrietta’s schemes for Dr Shirley’s
leaving Uppercross; farther on, she had first seen Mr Elliot; a moment
seemed all that could now be given to any one but Louisa, or those who
were wrapped up in her welfare.
Captain Benwick was most considerately attentive to her; and, united as
they all seemed by the distress of the day, she felt an increasing
degree of good-will towards him, and a pleasure even in thinking that
it might, perhaps, be the occasion of continuing their acquaintance.
Captain Wentworth was on the watch for them, and a chaise and four in
waiting, stationed for their convenience in the lowest part of the
street; but his evident surprise and vexation at the substitution of
one sister for the other, the change in his countenance, the
astonishment, the expressions begun and suppressed, with which Charles
was listened to, made but a mortifying reception of Anne; or must at