Part 18 (1/2)
”None, dear sister, none. No; the Lord took care of me and delivered me.--But the children--what of them?”
”Oh, I don't know, I'm sure; but I rather think he doesn't mean to move them after all.”
”And where is he himself--I mean your--”
”My husband, as he calls himself,” she said bitterly. ”Oh, he is anywhere and everywhere; sometimes here for a day or two, and then absent for weeks. Indeed, he hardly dares stay for any length of time in any one place, for fear of the police getting hold of him.”
”My poor sister!” exclaimed Amos with a sigh; ”but, at any rate, _all_ is not dark,” he added. ”I am bringing a little gladness with me. My dear father sends you his love--”
”What--what, Amos!” she exclaimed, interrupting him with almost a shriek. ”Oh, say it again! Oh, can it really be?--my father send me his love! Oh, dearest Amos, was it really so?”
”Yes; he knows nearly all now, and his heart has opened to you, and he bids me tell you there is a place for you in the old home still.”
Sinking on the ground, the bewildered, agitated creature clasped her hands across her forehead, as though the swollen veins would burst with the intensity of her emotion. At last, yielding to her brother's tender caresses, she grew calmer, and allowing him to draw her close to him, she wept a full flood of tears, which brought with them a measure of peace in their flow. ”Oh! can it be?” she cried again, but now more hopefully--”a place for me yet in the dear old home, and my father's smile on me once more.” Then she added in a scared, hoa.r.s.e whisper, ”But that doesn't include _him_?”
”No, not your unhappy husband; my father could not receive him.”
”Of course not, Amos. Oh that I had never married him! Every spark of love for him has died out of my heart now. I hate him, and I loathe myself.”
”Nay, nay, dear sister,” said Amos soothingly, ”don't say so. He has sinned, greatly sinned, but all may yet be well.”
”Never, never,” she cried, ”while he claims me for his wife!”
”Well, well,” said Amos, ”calm yourself, dear Julia. See, here is proof visible of my father's love to you: he has bid me put these two ten- pound notes into Mrs Allison's hands for you. He sends them to yourself, but I am to place them with her, lest they should be taken from you.”
”Let me look at them with my own eyes,” she cried; and when Amos produced them, she pressed them eagerly to her lips, exclaiming, ”Dear, dear father, G.o.d bless you for this!”
”And now,” said her brother, when she had sufficiently recovered herself to listen to him quietly, ”we must consider next what is best to be done. Do you think your husband is likely to be here again soon? and if so, will it be of any use your speaking to him on the subject of your father having expressed his willingness to receive you without him?
Would he be willing to leave you to us now, and to go abroad himself to some distant land? and do you yourself really desire this separation?”
”Desire it, Amos! how can I help desiring it? Though marrying him lost me home and almost everything I once loved, yet I could have followed him all the world over if he had really loved me. But he hates me; he takes a spiteful pleasure in ill-treating me. He would never come near me at all, if he did not think that he could manage to squeeze some money out of me. How _can_ I have any love left for such a wretch?”
”But will he be willing to leave you in our hands? Remember you are still his wife, and he has therefore a claim upon you.”
”I know it, Amos, too well. Oh! what can I do?”
”Well, I can hardly tell; but I am remaining in the town to-night, and as it is now getting late, I will go to my room at the inn, and will come and see you again to-morrow morning, by which time I shall have got more light on the subject, I have no doubt.” So they parted.
As Amos walked into the inn-yard to have a last look at his pony, he saw a young man advancing towards him; but as it was now getting dark, he could not at first make out his features. A moment more, and he recognised his brother.
”What, Walter!” he exclaimed in astonishment; ”how did _you_ come here?”
”Oh, very comfortably indeed!” was the reply. ”I have ridden over on a little private business of my own--in fact, I may tell you in confidence that I am at present a member of the mounted police force, and am on duty to-night in the n.o.ble town of Dufferly, keeping my eye on a certain person who is running his head into danger, and wants carefully looking after, lest he get himself into mischief.” Amos looked puzzled. ”In other words,” continued his brother, ”I could not bear the thought of your getting again into the clutches of that horrid man; so I have come over, not to be a spy upon you, or any fetter on your movements, but just to be at hand, to give you a help if you want it.”
”How generous of you, dear Walter!” cried his brother, shaking him warmly by the hand; ”but does my father know?”
”Of course he does, and my aunt too. It's all right. You are captain, and I'm only lieutenant; and now, what's the next move?”
”Well, to have some tea together in my room, Walter. But really your coming was quite unnecessary. I shall be taken care of without your needing to put yourself to all this trouble. However, as you _are_ here, I begin to see that good may come of it. So let us have tea, and then you must tell me how you found me out, after which I will tell you what is in my mind.” So the brothers had a cozy meal together, and then Amos told Walter about his interview with their sister, and having taken him fully into his confidence, discussed with him what was best to be done under the sad circ.u.mstances.