Part 60 (1/2)

There they sat, it is hard to say how long, their heads together, talking earnestly. Charlotte was in his full confidence. Whatever may have been the nature, the depth of his perplexities, she fathomed them.

At length George sprang up with a start.

”I am forgetting everything. I forgot those people were still at home, waiting for me. Charlotte, I must go.”

She rose, put her arm within his, and took a step with him, as if she would herself let him out. Perhaps she was in the habit of letting him out.

”Not there! not that way!” she abruptly said, for George was turning to unclose the shutters of the window. ”Come into the next room, and I'll open that.”

The next room was in darkness. They opened the window, and stood yet a minute within the room, talking anxiously still. Then he left her, and went forth.

He intended to take the lonely road homewards, as being the nearer; that dark, narrow road you may remember to have heard of, where the ash-trees met overhead, and, as report went, a ghost was in the habit of taking walking exercise by night. George had no thought for ghosts just then: he had a ”ghost” within him, frightful enough to scare away a whole lane full of the others. Nevertheless, George G.o.dolphin did take a step backward with a start, when, just within the Ash-tree Walk, after pa.s.sing the turnstile, there came a dismal groan from some dark figure seated on a broken bench.

It was all dark together there. The ash-trees hid the moon; George had just emerged from where her beams shone bright and open; and not at first did he distinguish who was sitting there. But his eyes grew accustomed to the obscurity.

”Thomas!” he cried, in consternation. ”Is it you?”

For answer, Thomas G.o.dolphin caught hold of his brother, bent forward, and laid his forehead upon George's arm, another deep groan breaking from him.

That George G.o.dolphin would rather have been waylaid by a real ghost, than by his brother at that particular time and place, was certain.

Better that the whole world should detect any undue anxiety for Mr.

Verrall's companions.h.i.+p just then, than that Thomas G.o.dolphin should do so. At least, George thought so: but conscience makes cowards of us all.

Nevertheless, he gave his earnest sympathy to his brother.

”Lean on me, Thomas. Let me support you. How have you been taken ill?”

Another minute, and the paroxysm was past. Thomas wiped the dew from his brow, and George sat down on the narrow bench beside him.

”How came you to be here alone, Thomas? Where is your carriage?”

”I ordered the carriage early, and it came just as you had gone out,”

explained Thomas. ”Feeling well, I sent it away as I had to wait, saying I would walk home. The pain overtook me just as I reached this spot, and but for the bench I should have fallen. But, George, what brings _you_ here?” was the next very natural question. ”You told me you were going to the Bell?”

”So I was; so I did,” said George, speaking volubly. ”St. Aubyn I found very poorly; I told him he would be best in bed, and came away. It was a nice night; I felt inclined for a run, so I came up here to ask Verrall what had kept him from dinner. He was sent for to London, it seems, and the stupid servant took his apology to Ashlydyat, instead of to the Bank.”

Thomas G.o.dolphin might well have rejoined, ”If Verrall is away, where have you stopped?” But he made no remark.

”Have they all gone?” asked George, alluding to his guests.

”They have all gone. I made it right with them respecting your absence.

My being there was almost the same thing: they appeared to regard it so.

George, I believe I must have your arm as far as the house. See what an old man I am getting.”

”Will you not rest longer? I am in no hurry, as they have left. What can this pain be, that seems to be attacking you of late?”

”Has it never occurred to you what it may be?” quietly rejoined Thomas.

”No,” replied George. But he noticed that Thomas's tone was, peculiar, and he began to run over in his own mind all the pharmacopoeia of ailments that flesh is heir to. ”It cannot be rheumatism, Thomas?”