Part 29 (2/2)
There was no need of any answer; Adam Warwick came striding through the crowd, saw them, paused with both hands out, and a questioning glance as if uncertain of his greeting. With one impulse the hands were taken; Sylvia could not speak, her father could, and did approvingly--
”Welcome, Warwick; you are come to say good by to Geoffrey?”
”Rather to you, sir; he needs none, I go with him.”
”With him!” echoed both hearers.
”Ay, that I will. Did you think I would let him go away alone feeling bereaved of wife, and home, and friend?”
”We should have known you better. But, Warwick, he will shun you; he hid himself just now as you approached; he has tried to forgive, but he cannot so soon forget.”
”All the more need of my helping him to do both. He cannot shun me long with no hiding-place to fly to but the sea, and I will so gently constrain him by the old-time love we bore each other, that he must relent and take me back into his heart again.”
”Oh, Adam! go with him, stay with him, and bring him safely back to me when time has helped us all.”
”I shall do it, G.o.d willing.”
Unmindful of all else Warwick bent and took her to him as he gave the promise, seemed to put his whole heart into a single kiss and left her trembling with the stress of his farewell. She saw him cleave his way through the throng, leap the s.p.a.ce left by the gangway just withdrawn, and vanish in search of that lost friend. Then she turned her face to her father's shoulder, conscious of nothing but the fact that Warwick had come and gone.
A cannon boomed, the crowd cheered, the last cable was flung off, and the steamer glided from her moorings with the surge of water and the waft of wind like some sea-monster eager to be out upon the ocean free again.
”Look up, Sylvia; she will soon pa.s.s from sight.”
”Are they there?”
”No.”
”Then I do not care to see. Look for me, father, and tell me when they come.”
”They will not come, dear; both have said good by, and we have seen the last of them for many a long day.”
”They will come! Adam will bring Geoffrey to show me they are friends again. I know it; you shall see it. Lift me to that block and watch the deck with me that we may see them the instant they appear.”
Up she sprung, eyes clear now, nerves steady, faith strong. Leaning forward so utterly forgetful of herself, she would have fallen into the green water tumbling there below, had not her father held her fast. How slowly the minutes seemed to pa.s.s, how rapidly the steamer seemed to glide away, how heavily the sense of loss weighed on her heart as wave after wave rolled between her and her heart's desire.
”Come down, Sylvia, it is giving yourself useless pain to watch and wait. Come home, my child, and let us comfort one another.”
She did not hear him, for as he spoke the steamer swung slowly round to launch itself into the open bay, and with a cry that drew many eyes upon the young figure with its face of pale expectancy, Sylvia saw her hope fulfilled.
”I knew they would come! See, father, see! Geoffrey is smiling as he waves his handkerchief, and Adam's hand is on his shoulder. Answer them!
oh, answer them! I can only look.”
The old man did answer them enthusiastically, and Sylvia stretched her arms across the widening s.p.a.ce as if to bring them back again. Side by side the friends stood now; Moor's eye upon his wife, while from his hand the little flag of peace streamed in the wind. But Warwick's glance was turned upon his friend, and Warwick's hand already seemed to claim the charge he had accepted.
Standing thus they pa.s.sed from sight, never to come sailing home together as the woman on the sh.o.r.e was praying G.o.d to let her see them come.
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