A bitter smile was the reply, and a fixed stare from those terribly bright eyes.
"Poor child! He's very unfortunate," continued the same speaker. "I pity him from my very soul!" He placed his large hand kindly upon my head, and drawing me between his knees held up my face and kissed me with an air of parental tenderness. Touched by the unexpected caress, I clasped my arms about his neck, and hid my face in his bosom. He flung himself into a large chair, and lifted me upon his knee.
"You seem to have taken a fancy to the boy," said my uncle, in the same sarcastic tone. "Suppose you adopt him as _your_ son. I would gladly be rid of him for ever; and would pay well for his change of name and country. Is it a bargain?" and he grasped his companion by the shoulder.
"No. I will not incur the responsibility. I have done too much against the poor child already. Besides, a man with ten children has no need of adopting the child of a stranger. Providence has thrown him into your hands, Robert Moncton; and whether for good or evil, I beseech you to treat the lad kindly for his father's sake."
"Well, well, I must, I see, make the best of a bad bargain. But, Walters, you could so easily take him with you to America. He has no friends by his mother's side, to make any stir about his disappearance. Under your name his identity will never be recognized, and it would be taking a thorn out of my side."
"To plant it in my own heart. The child must remain with you."
I did not pay very particular attention to this conversation at the time, but after events recalled it vividly to my recollection.
The undertaker put an end to the conference by informing the gentlemen that "all was ready, and the hearse was about to move forward." My nurse placed me in a mourning coach, beside my uncle and his companion, in order that I might form part of that dismal procession, to the nearest cemetery. I shall never forget the impression that solemn scene made on my mind. My first ideas of death and decay were formed whilst standing beside my mother's grave. There my heart received its first life-lesson; and owned its first acquaintanceship with grief--the _ideal_ vanished, and the hard, uncompromising _real_ took its place.