'What! remain to be

Denounced--dragged, it may be, in chains.'

WERNER.

All the next day they sate together--they three. Mr. Hale hardly

ever spoke but when his children asked him questions, and forced

him, as it were, into the present. Frederick's grief was no more

to be seen or heard; the first paroxysm had passed over, and now

he was ashamed of having been so battered down by emotion; and

though his sorrow for the loss of his mother was a deep real

feeling, and would last out his life, it was never to be spoken

of again. Margaret, not so passionate at first, was more

suffering now. At times she cried a good deal; and her manner,

even when speaking on indifferent things, had a mournful

tenderness about it, which was deepened whenever her looks fell

on Frederick, and she thought of his rapidly approaching

departure.

She was glad he was going, on her father's account,

however much she might grieve over it on her own. The anxious

terror in which Mr. Hale lived lest his son should be detected

and captured, far out-weighed the pleasure he derived from his

presence. The nervousness had increased since Mrs. Hale's death,

probably because he dwelt upon it more exclusively. He started at

every unusual sound; and was never comfortable unless Frederick

sate out of the immediate view of any one entering the room.

Towards evening he said: 'You will go with Frederick to the station, Margaret? I shall

want to know he is safely off. You will bring me word that he is

clear of Milton, at any rate?' 'Certainly,' said Margaret. 'I shall like it, if you won't be

lonely without me, papa.' 'No, no! I should always be fancying some one had known him, and

that he had been stopped, unless you could tell me you had seen

him off. And go to the Outwood station. It is quite as near, and

not so many people about. Take a cab there. There is less risk of

his being seen. What time is your train, Fred?'

'Ten minutes past six; very nearly dark. So what will you do,

Margaret?' 'Oh, I can manage. I am getting very brave and very hard. It is a

well-lighted road all the way home, if it should be dark. But I

was out last week much later.'

Margaret was thankful when the parting was over--the parting from

the dead mother and the living father. She hurried Frederick into

the cab, in order to shorten a scene which she saw was so

bitterly painful to her father, who would accompany his son as he

took his last look at his mother. Partly in consequence of this,

and partly owing to one of the very common mistakes in the

'Railway Guide' as to the times when trains arrive at the smaller

stations, they found, on reaching Outwood, that they had nearly

twenty minutes to spare. The booking-office was not open, so they

could not even take the ticket. They accordingly went down the

flight of steps that led to the level of the ground below the

railway. There was a broad cinder-path diagonally crossing a

field which lay along-side of the carriage-road, and they went

there to walk backwards and forwards for the few minutes they had

to spare.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024