Part 41 (2/2)

”There,” said he, ”is the first ring I ever wore. It was given to me this afternoon, to remind me of a promise; and that promise is to me more binding than a hundred oaths.”

He rose with a sigh.

”Ah, well, Evelyn, whatever happens we will not complain. There have been compensations.”

”But you have not told me what answer you mean to give to Lind.”

”Suppose I wait until I see him before deciding?”

”Then you will say, No. You have allowed your distrust of him to become a sort of mania, and the moment you see him the mere sight of him will drive you into antagonism.”

”I tell you what I wish I could do, Evelyn,” said the other, laughing: ”I wish I could turn over everything I have got to you, and escape scot-free to America and start my own life free and unenc.u.mbered.”

”And alone?”

His face grew grave again.

”There is nothing possible else!” said he.

It was nearly eight o'clock when he left. As he walked along Piccadilly, a clear and golden twilight was s.h.i.+ning over the trees in the Green Park. All around him was the roar of the London streets; but it was not that that he heard. Was it not rather the sound of a soft, low voice, and the silvery notes of the zither? His memory acted as a sea-sh.e.l.l, and brought him an echo from other days and other climes.

”Behold the beautiful night--the wind sleeps drowsily--the silent sh.o.r.es slumber in the dark:

”Sul placido elemento Vien meco a navigar!

”The soft wind moves--as it stirs among the leaves--it moves and dies--among the murmur of the water:

”Lascia l'amico tetto, Vien meco a navigar!

”Now on the s.p.a.cious mantle--of the already darkening heavens--see, oh the s.h.i.+ning wonder--how the white stars tremble:

”Sul l'onde addormentate Vien meco a navigar!”

This was the voice that he heard amidst the roar of the London streets.

Would he hear it far away on the wide Atlantic, with the sh.o.r.es of England hidden behind the mists of rain? To-night was to decide what the future of his life was to be.

If Natalie had appeared at this moment, and said to him, ”Dearest, let it be as my father wishes;” or if Lord Evelyn had frankly declared to him that it was his duty to surrender his possessions to this Society to which he had devoted his life, there would have been not a moment's hesitation. But now he was going to see a man whom he suspected and was inclined to hate, and his nature began to harden. It would be a question between one man of the world and another. Sentiment would be put aside.

He would no longer be played with. A man should be master of his own affairs.

This was what he said to himself. But he had quite forgotten his determination to consider this matter as if no Natalie existed; and his resolve to exclude sentiment altogether did not interfere with the fact that always, if unconsciously, there remained in his mind a certain picture he had been dreaming a good deal about of late. It was a picture of an old-fas.h.i.+oned rose-garden in the light of an English summer morning, with a young wife walking there, herself taller and fairer than any flower. Would she sing, in her gladness, the songs of other lands, to charm the sweet English air? There was that one about _O dolce Napoli!--o suol beato!_--

When he got to Lisle Street, every one had arrived except Molyneux himself. Mr. Lind was gravely polite to him. Of course no mention could then be made about private affairs; the talk going on was all about the East, and how certain populations were faring.

Presently the pink-faced farmer-agitator was ushered in, looking a little bit alarmed. But this frightened look speedily disappeared, and gave place to one of mild astonishment, as he appeared to recognize the faces of one or two of those in the room. The business of the evening, so far as the brief formalities were concerned, was speedily got over, and five of the members of the small a.s.sembly immediately left.

”Now, Mr. Molyneux,” said Ferdinand Lind, pleasantly, ”Mr. Brand and I have some small private matters to talk over: will you excuse us if we leave you for a few minutes? Here are some articles of our a.s.sociation which you may look over in the mean time. May I trouble you to follow me, Mr. Brand?”

Brand followed him into an inner and smaller room, and sat down.

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