Chapter 58

CHAPTER 58

In which one Scene of this History is closed

Dividing the distance into two days' journey, in order that his
charge might sustain the less exhaustion and fatigue from travelling
so far, Nicholas, at the end of the second day from their leaving
home, found himself within a very few miles of the spot where the
happiest years of his life had been passed, and which, while it
filled his mind with pleasant and peaceful thoughts, brought back
many painful and vivid recollections of the circumstances in which
he and his had wandered forth from their old home, cast upon the
rough world and the mercy of strangers.

It needed no such reflections as those which the memory of old days,
and wanderings among scenes where our childhood has been passed,
usually awaken in the most insensible minds, to soften the heart of
Nicholas, and render him more than usually mindful of his drooping
friend. By night and day, at all times and seasons: always
watchful, attentive, and solicitous, and never varying in the
discharge of his self-imposed duty to one so friendless and helpless
as he whose sands of life were now fast running out and dwindling
rapidly away: he was ever at his side. He never left him. To
encourage and animate him, administer to his wants, support and
cheer him to the utmost of his power, was now his constant and
unceasing occupation.

They procured a humble lodging in a small farmhouse, surrounded by
meadows where Nicholas had often revelled when a child with a troop
of merry schoolfellows; and here they took up their rest.

At first, Smike was strong enough to walk about, for short distances
at a time, with no other support or aid than that which Nicholas
could afford him. At this time, nothing appeared to interest him so
much as visiting those places which had been most familiar to his
friend in bygone days. Yielding to this fancy, and pleased to find
that its indulgence beguiled the sick boy of many tedious hours, and
never failed to afford him matter for thought and conversation
afterwards, Nicholas made such spots the scenes of their daily
rambles: driving him from place to place in a little pony-chair, and
supporting him on his arm while they walked slowly among these old
haunts, or lingered in the sunlight to take long parting looks of
those which were most quiet and beautiful.

It was on such occasions as these, that Nicholas, yielding almost
unconsciously to the interest of old associations, would point out
some tree that he had climbed, a hundred times, to peep at the young
birds in their nest; and the branch from which he used to shout to
little Kate, who stood below terrified at the height he had gained,
and yet urging him higher still by the intensity