Part 53 (1/2)
”Did you read the letter I left for you in my desk up stairs?”
She put her hand to her bosom and drew forth the closely written sheet.
”Every word,” she responded, and smilingly returned it to its place.
He started and his chest heaved pa.s.sionately. ”You have read it,” he cried, ”and yet could follow me into that den of unknown dangers at an hour like this, and with no other guide than Bertram?”
”Yes,” she answered.
He drew a deep breath and his brow lost its deepest shadow. ”You do not despise me then,” he exclaimed ”My sin has not utterly blotted me out of your regard?”
The glance with which she replied seemed to fill the whole room with its radiance. ”I am only beginning to realize the worth of the man who has. .h.i.therto been a mystery to me,” she declared. Then as he shook his head, added with a serious air, ”The question with all true hearts must ever be, not what a man has been, but what he is. He who for the sake of s.h.i.+elding the innocent from shame and sorrow, would have taken upon himself the onus of a past disgrace, is not unworthy a woman's devotion.”
Mr. Sylvester smiled mournfully, and stroked her hand which he had taken in his. ”Poor little one,” he murmured. ”I know not whether to feel proud or sorry for your trust and tender devotion. It would have been a great and unspeakable grief to me to have lost your regard, but it might have been better if I had; it might have been much better for you if I had!”
”What, why do you say that?” she asked, with a startled gleam in her eye. ”Do you think I am so eager for ease and enjoyment, that it will be a burden for me to bear the pain of those I love? A past pain, too,” she added, ”that will grow less and less as the days go by and happiness increases.”
He put her back with a quick hand. ”Do not make it any harder for me than necessary,” he entreated, ”Do you not see that however gentle may be your judgment of my deserts, we can never marry, Paula?”
The eyes which were fixed on his, deepened pa.s.sionately. ”No,” she whispered, ”no; not if your remorse for the past is all that separates us. The man who has conquered himself, has won the right to conquer the heart of a woman. I can say no more--” She timidly held out her hand.
He grasped it with a man's impetuosity and pressed it to his heart, but he did not retain it. ”Blessings upon you, dear and n.o.ble heart!” he cried. ”G.o.d will hear my prayers and make you happy--but not with me.
Paula,” he pa.s.sionately continued, taking her in his arms and holding her to his breast, ”it cannot be. I love you--I will not, dare not say, how much--but love is no excuse for wronging you. My remorse is not all that separates us; possible disgrace lies before me; public exposure at all events; I would indeed be lacking in honor were I to subject you to these.”
”But,” she stammered, drawing back to look into his face, ”I thought that was all over; that the man had promised silence; that you were henceforth to be relieved from his persecutions? I am sure he said so.”
”He did, but he forgot that my fate no longer rested upon his forbearance. The letter which records my admission of sin was in his lawyer's hands, Paula, and has already been despatched to Mr.
Stuyvesant. Say what we will, rebel against it as we will, Cicely's father knows by this time that the name of Sylvester is not spotless.”
The cry which she uttered in her sudden pain and loss made him stoop over her with despairing fondness. ”Hus.h.!.+ my darling, hus.h.!.+” cried he.
”The trial is so heavy, I need all my strength to meet it. It breaks my heart to see you grieve. I cannot bear it. I deserve my fate, but you--Oh you--what have you done that you should be overwhelmed in my fall!” Putting her gently away from his breast, he drew himself up and with forced calmness said, ”I have yet to inform Mr. Stuyvesant upon which of the Sylvesters' should rest the shadow of his distrust.
To-night he believes in Bertram's lack of principle, but to-morrow--”
Her trembling lips echoed the word.
”He shall know that the man who confessed to having done a wrong deed in the past, is myself, Paula.”
The head which had fallen on her breast, rose as at the call of a clarion. ”And is it at the n.o.blest moment of your life that you would shut me away from your side? No, no. Heaven does not send us a great and mighty love for trivial purposes. The simple country maid whom you have sometimes declared was as the bringer of good news to you, shall not fail you now.” Then slowly and with solemn a.s.surance, ”If you go to Mr.
Stuyvesant's to-morrow, and you will, for that is your duty, you shall not go alone; Paula Fairchild accompanies you.”
XLIV.
IN MR. STUYVESANT'S PARLORS.
”Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night?”