The Romance of Gilbert Holmes: An Historical NovelKirkman, Marshall M. (Marshall Monroe)
General
The Romance of Gilbert Holmes: An Historical Novel
Kirkman, Marshall M. (Marshall Monroe)
Black Hawk War, 1832 -- Fiction
"Then kiss me and put your arms about my neck," I answered, partly
reassured.
"Yes, you dear child! I’ll do anything you say."
"Oh, I am so weary and tired, Constance," I answered, striving to return
her caress.
"Yes, but you will be stronger soon if you lie still"; and the sweet
angel laid her fingers on my lips, keeping her face close to mine as I
had asked. Kissing her hand, I had no wish to disobey if only I might
look into her eyes and feel her breath upon my face; and lest it should
be only a dream, I lay still, and looking into her eyes, sank into a
gentle sleep.
Awakening, I found her bending over me with anxious eyes and troubled
face.
"Constance! you are still there?"
"Yes, always."
"Tell me I’m awake."
"Yes, and better, you dear boy!"
"I’m at the Dragon, and you are surely Constance?" I asked, ready to cry
out.
"Yes, you know I’m Constance"; and she bent over and kissed me as if the
better to reassure me.
"I’ve had such dreams, Constance! such terrible dreams!"
"It’s nothing, Gilbert. People with fevers always have dreams," she
answered, caressing my face.
"I thought I left Little Sandy with Uncle Job, and then a lot of things
happened."
"Yes; but don’t think of it any more. Dreams never come true, you
know," she answered, placing her face beside mine.
"I won’t; only I’m glad I’m in Little Sandy," I answered, lying still.
When I next awoke Uncle Job and Setti were beside me, my hands clasped
in theirs.
"You are better, Gilbert," Uncle Job spoke up, stopping short, as if
something choked him.
"I’m all right," I answered, feeling stronger.
"You are a Little Prince, and my True Knight forever," Setti exclaimed,
bending over me and taking my face in both her hands.
"I’ll be anything you wish, Setti, you know," I answered, striving to
answer with some spirit.
"Then I must be careful," she answered, smiling through her tears and
kissing me.
"No, you mustn’t," I cried, in great spirits. Then turning to Uncle Job
I went on: "I’m sorry to have kept you here, uncle, but I couldn’t help
it. I’ve never been very strong, you know," I added, thinking how
little a thing it took to upset me.
"I said I wanted to stay longer in Little Sandy, you remember," he
replied, with a show of being cheerful.
"Your business needed you, though."
"Men always say that, Gilbert," he answered, as if it were nothing.
"What about Aunt Jane?" I asked, fearing to speak her name.
"Oh, she will never bother you any more."
"I’m glad of that, for I dreamed she had a man who followed me
everywhere, giving me no peace."
"Poor boy! but you must lie still, the doctor says, if you want to get
well," he answered, turning away.
"I’ve a lot I want to say, Uncle Job," I cried, following him with my
eyes.
"Yes, but not now, Gilbert," Constance interposed, coming to my side and
laying her hand on my lips. "Your fever will surely come back if you
don’t keep quiet."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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