Sylvia's Lovers

He wakened up in a little truckle-bed in the same room as the

sergeant, who lay sleeping the sleep of full contentment; while

gradually, drop by drop, the bitter recollections of the day before

came, filling up Philip's cup of agony.

He knew that he had received the bounty-money; and though he was

aware that he had been partly tricked into it, and had no hope, no

care, indeed, for any of the advantages so liberally promised him

the night before, yet he was resigned, with utterly despondent

passiveness, to the fate to which he had pledged himself. Anything

was welcome that severed him from his former life, that could make

him forget it, if that were possible; and also welcome anything

which increased the chances of death without the sinfulness of his

own participation in the act. He found in the dark recess of his

mind the dead body of his fancy of the previous night; that he might

come home, handsome and glorious, to win the love that had never

been his.

But he only sighed over it, and put it aside out of his sight--so

full of despair was he. He could eat no breakfast, though the

sergeant ordered of the best. The latter kept watching his new

recruit out of the corner of his eye, expecting a remonstrance, or

dreading a sudden bolt.

But Philip walked with him the two or three miles in the most

submissive silence, never uttering a syllable of regret or

repentance; and before Justice Cholmley, of Holm-Fell Hall, he was

sworn into his Majesty's service, under the name of Stephen Freeman.

With a new name, he began a new life. Alas! the old life lives for

ever!