Part 96 (1/2)

'She forgave you, and called you husband.'

'Because she--she loved me.'

There was another involuntary groan, and a brief silence.

'Where are her papers? Give them me, and go,' said Howel imperatively.

Rowland put a neatly-sealed packet on the table, on which was written, 'For my husband, Howel Jenkins;--to the care of my brother, Rowland Prothero. Janetta Jenkins.'

'This, too, she left for you,' said Rowland, putting the small Testament, originally her mother's, on the table. Again the stony lips trembled, the eyes softened. 'Howel, Howel, for her sake!' once more ventured Rowland.

There they lay--the letter, the packet, the Testament. All that was left to him of the once bright, loving, and lovely creature, who had been devoted to him all her life.

He turned the leaves of the Testament mechanically; touched the packet--shuddered; then leaning his head upon his folded arms on the table, burst into an uncontrollable agony of grief.

'She is--she was--where?' he said, after a short interval, rising from his seat, and beginning to pace the cell.

'Her soul is in heaven, I hope and believe; her body rests in Llanfach churchyard, under the large hawthorn bush near the vicarage gate.'

Often and often had Howel gathered Netta bunches of May from that very tree that now sheltered her remains.

'Tell me--tell me all,' he said, 'from the time I left her, till--how you found her--everything.'

'You must sit down, Howel, and hear me patiently if you can.'

Howel sat down on the bedstead, and again covering his face with both hands, listened; whilst Rowland took the seat he had left, and fulfilled his bidding.

He told him everything that had happened to Netta, from the period of her being left in the lodgings in his parish, until her death at the farm. He felt that the one hope of softening Howel, or doing him any good, was through his love for his wife; he therefore narrated simply what she had suffered and said; he told how that she had been hourly expecting him back, until his one short note; how she had listened for his footsteps, and refused to leave the place where he had left her, until he came. All that her friends had done for her, was introduced incidentally; Howel understood that she had been taken to her relations again, as the prodigal son to his father, but he was not told so.

Rowland did not spare him, however, as regarded Netta. He knew him to be utterly callous as to the follies and crimes of his life; he must, therefore, be made conscious of their weight, through their effects upon others; he knew that they had been the cause of Netta's death, and this would show him the enormity of sin if nothing else would.

As he detailed the wanderings of poor Netta's mind, and then her anxious inquiries of him of the way of salvation for Howel, as well as herself, he was visibly affected. Not even his determination that Rowland should not see his emotion could conceal it; but he did not speak a word. He listened to the end, and then, without uncovering his face, he said in a voice tremulous from emotion,--

'Thank you; now go; and come back to-morrow; I would be alone with her.'

'And to-morrow I must bring your mother,' said Rowland

'No, no, let me see you alone,' was the hasty reply.

'G.o.d bless you, Howel, and grant you His help,' said Rowland, pa.s.sing before the stooping figure.

There was no reply, so, with a heavy sigh and an inward prayer, Rowland left the cell.

CHAPTER LII.

THE PENITENT HUSBAND.

The following morning, Rowland again took Mrs Jenkins to her lodging and left her there. It was with very great difficulty that he persuaded Mrs Jenkins to remain behind, and only under a promise to prevail upon Howel to see her immediately after his interview with him.