Part 51 (1/2)
”Irene, you have wronged me most bitterly, and I forgive you, but remember that man's forgiveness can avail you nothing in the darkness where you are going. You must look to G.o.d. He alone can forgive your sins and lead you through the dark valleys to the light of eternal day.”
”And you will, with your own hands, plant just one flower on my grave in remembrance of her you once called your wife.”
”I will,” said Scott, and then he turned away with a face full of agony.
Three days later the family was summoned to watch Irene pa.s.s the gates of death, and then the false heart was stilled forever. They robed her in a costly shroud and placed her in a beautiful casket, and in death as in life she was lovely to look upon, and Scott, with compressed lips and tearless eyes, followed her to the grave as chief mourner.
CHAPTER x.x.xIII.
STILL AT WORK.
It was in the Spring, after the death of Irene, that Scott one day sought the abode of old Meg. He had some very important business to transact and she was the one who could, and must help him in the matter. He found Meg and Crisp within, and entering the dingy room, Meg greeted him with eager expectation, and her black eyes sparkled as she offered him an old wooden chair. She looked more repulsive than ever, for her broad nose looked still broader, and her wide mouth seemed to grin more fiercely. Scott's searching eyes took in, at a glance, the filthiness of the place, and the odor of whiskey was offensive in the extreme.
”Sit down,” said Meg. ”You want your fortune told again?”
”No. You are in possession of a few facts of which I wish you to inform me, and I will pay you well if you will answer the questions which I ask you.”
”What are they?”
”Will you answer me all you know in regard to a certain matter if I pay you well for it?”
Meg looked at Crisp in a way that said plainly: ”Shall I, Crisp?”
Crisp, who seemed to understand the look, said:
”You might as well tell it if you get paid for it.”
”What will you give me?” said Meg.
”I will pay you according to the amount of information I receive.”
”Go on,” she said, seating herself and lighting an old, blackened clay pipe.
”I wish you first to tell me when you think of leaving the city.”
”I don't know that part,” she said, turning uneasily around.
”You certainly have some idea of the time.”
”I s'pose when the weather is warmer.”
”Where are you going?”
”I don't know. You know folks like us go everywhere.”
”Very well,” said Scott, ”you will then be unable to get the money which I shall bring, or send you.”
”Maybe we won't go away at all.”