Part 32 (1/2)
His arrival was the signal for a sodden silence Of this he took no notice--standing in the doorith his back to the street, while Jones went inside to receipt the bill
”And how are ye, Mr Musgrave? It's a long time since I've seen ye, anyway, and me only just back”
Roden turned quickly The jolly voice with its touch of brogue, the rusty black coat and stove-pipe hat, the kind face and thick white hair, could belong to no other than Father O'Driscoll And--he was advancing with outstretched hand Roden stared, first at that very substantial member, then at its owner But he did not respond, beyond a stiff bow
”Ah, an' is it like ye, to wish to cut an old friend?” said the old man, his hand still held forth, and a look in his eyes that there was noFor it said, as plain as words, ”I know all--all But understand, _I_ ae you, however soive them!”
Roden's hand closed upon that of the old priest in a warrasp
”An old friend, did you say, Father? I a as existing between us”
”Ah, and what'll I do noithout all our talks about the ould counthry and the fishi+ng? Sure they've brought back the chiorsoon a whippin' the trout out of the Shournagh, wid a long shtick and a crooked pin, faster than the garrison officers could get at 'eot back, and the moment I heard ye were leavin' us I hurried off to find ye Now come and have a bit of dinner withtumbler of punch”
This in the face of all Doppersdorp, for the benefit of those who had condemned and shunned hi the manner in which his old friend had co as it did a rare delicacy with the maximum of effectiveness But this last invitation he could not but decline To delay his departure even for an hour could serve no good purpose, and he shrank fro bare so much as a corner of his heart, even to the sweet-natured old Irishh his o I won't be detaining you Good-bye, Mr Musgrave,” shaking his hand heartily ”We don't profess the sao, and wherever you are, there's an oldyou Good-bye now!”
Such was the end And as the great spur of the ht, shut out the last of Doppersdorp behind hi of starting forth once more into the world, destitute and alone Since the day which witnessed his entry into that sordid little townshi+p, he had gained that which he had never thought to win again--a restored faith in that marvellous mystery, which, while it lasts, avails to make a very paradise of the heart in which it takes up its ain? Well, he had lost it now Never, never could it be restored Had he done wrong in refusing to speak that hich should exculpate hiht think, however circuht to have stood firht to have conceded Rightly or wrongly that one falling aas enough Even had he yielded, that would have stood between theed as he went forth once er young, and whose means are too scanty even for his barest needs--to face the world afresh, that is In the braced-up strength, and freshness of mind, and elasticity of spirits, of youth, such a prospect is not one to shrink from; on the contrary, it is one which is welcoth is waning, and all things pall, and hopes and illusions are laid to rest for ever, buried in a grave of corroding corruption and bitter ashes;--ah! then it is a dark and craggy desert prospect indeed And as these thoughts started up spectre-like in Roden's an to think of death
Not of the suicide's death Oh no Putting it on the lowest grounds, such an act would be a feebleness, an imbecility, such as found no part within his nature; for it would be a concession to the unutterably contemptible tenet that there existed such a reality as love Not in him was it to afford such a triumph as that to his enemies, let alone to her hen tried, had been found so pitiably wanting No, it was death in its natural order that now filled his s be at rest then? or would it be indeed, as the jarring tongues of striving sects and hair-splitting 'ologies all agreed--the one point on which they did agree--that that death, not so very forate of woe, endless, unutterable, to those who had eaten their full share of the bread of affliction in life--namely, the vast bulk of human kind?
He passed his hand over his eyes Had it all been a dream? No, no! and yet in a way it had; but a dreahly awakened Nevertheless, as he paced his horse steadily on, , sunlit landscape, the torment which seethed the soul of this outwardly cool and iels and men For strive and reason as he would, the love which burnt within his heart flaly than it had ever done--yet now he had renounced it--and its object he would never again behold in life
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
”O LOVE, THY DAY SETS DARKLING”
The sath of nature which had allowed Mona to give herself up so unreservedly to this wonderful, all-absorbing love, once she were sure of it, now enabled her to suffer and n
She was not one to wear theostentatiously Suffield, indeed, was lost in a it
His wife, however, who could see below the surface, knehat a s volcano this ”coolness” covered Sadly, too, she recalled her oords, ”Wait until it comes, Mona, and then tell me how enjoyable you find it” Well, ”it” had co be a more disastrous, more complete wreck? She would watch her relative with a kind of aonder; for Mona never one before A trifle graver, more reserved perhaps; otherwise as serene, as imperturbable as before Yet deep down in her heart the wound bled, ached, and throbbed--and that al re No way could she turn her eyes without being so res was fraught with such associations
Then she would force herself to look things in the face--to take to herself a kind of reckless, _bizarre_ colow of healthful beauty throbbed warreat Life was all before her And she had pride She could face the whole world with such an ar which, so far as the outside world was concerned, rendered her position easier There had been no regular engage had so much as been hinted at between the deeper and deeper into the golden ht of a barred gate across their way, beyond which should lie a s in its placidclai her open to condolences
But the fact that there had been nothing definite between them had its drawbacks She could not shut herself up; and at ti their acquaintances, she would be forced to listen to remarks which cleft her heart, but which she n; to strictures on the absent one which e and boil with suppressed wrath One such occasion befell about aan afternoon call, and the offender Mrs Shaston, who, she suspected, was talking not without design, expatiating to a roorass had been so providentially hunted out of their midst The hot, passionate blood coursed an to flash
Suddenly they met those of Father O'Driscoll, ith his hands crossed on the head of his stick, was seated on the other side of the roo ent on Suddenly the old rave ye're talking about, Mrs Shaston?” he said in his gentle Irish tone
”Yes He was once a great friend of yours, Father O'Driscoll, if I rehtly,” and there was a scarcely veiled sneer underlying the rereat friend of mine?” repeated the old priest quietly, but in a tone clear enough to be audible to all in the rooh I doubt if we shall evera boers The lady stared, wrathful--then sistrate's as not an easy person to ”put down”