And now the time came for them to part. Harry
was to say good-bye to her, and then to see her no
more. Early on the following morning Gertrude
was to go to Hampton and see Katie for the last time;
to see Katie for the last time, and the Cottage, and
the shining river, and all the well-known objects
among which she had passed her life. To Mrs.
Woodward, to Linda, and Katie, all this was subject
of inexpressible melancholy; but with Gertrude every
feeling of romance seemed to have been absorbed by
the realities of life. She would, of course,
go to Katie and give her a farewell embrace, since
Katie was still too weak to come to her; she would
say farewell to Uncle Bat, to whom she and Alaric owed
so much; she would doubtless shed a tear or two, and
feel some emotion at parting, even from the inanimate
associations of her youth; but all this would now
impress no lasting sorrow on her.
She was eager to be off, eager for her new career,
eager that he should stand on a soil where he could
once more face his fellow-creatures without shame.
She panted to put thousands of leagues of ocean between
him and his disgrace.
On the following morning Gertrude was to go to Hampton
for two hours, and then to return to Millbank, with
her mother and sister, for whose accommodation a bed
had been hired in the neighbourhood. On that
evening Alaric would be released from his prison;
and then before daybreak on the following day they
were to take their way to the far-off docks, and place
themselves on board the vessel which was to carry
them to their distant home.
‘God bless you, Gertrude,’ said Norman,
whose eyes were not dry.
’God Almighty bless you, Harry, you and Linda—and
make you happy. If Linda does not write constantly
very constantly, you must do it for her. We have
delayed the happiness of your marriage, Harry—you
must forgive us that, as well as all our other trespasses.
I fear Linda will never forgive that.’
‘You won’t find her unmerciful on that
score,’ said he. ’Dear Gertrude,
good-bye.’
She put up her face to him, and he kissed her, for
the first time in his life. ‘He bade me
give you his love,’ said she, in her last whisper;
‘I must, you know, do his bidding.’
Norman’s heart palpitated so that he could hardly
compose his voice for his last answer; but even then
he would not be untrue to his inexorable obstinacy;
he could not send his love to a man he did not love.
‘Tell him,’ said he, ’that he has
my sincerest wishes for success wherever he may be;
and Gertrude, I need hardly say——’
but he could get no further.
And so they parted.
CHAPTER XLIV
THE CRIMINAL POPULATION IS DISPOSED OF
Copyrights
The Three Clerks from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
