Complete Project Gutenberg Works of George MeredithMeredith, George
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Complete Project Gutenberg Works of George Meredith
Meredith, George
English fiction -- 19th century
The wind that bowed the old elms, and shivered the dead leaves in the
air, had a voice and a meaning for the baronet during that half-hour's
lonely pacing up and down under the darkness, awaiting his boy's return.
The solemn gladness of his heart gave nature a tongue. Through the
desolation flying overhead--the wailing of the Mother of Plenty across
the bare-swept land--he caught intelligible signs of the beneficent order
of the universe, from a heart newly confirmed in its grasp of the
principle of human goodness, as manifested in the dear child who had just
left him; confirmed in its belief in the ultimate victory of good within
us, without which nature has neither music nor meaning, and is rock,
stone, tree, and nothing more.
In the dark, the dead leaves beating on his face, he had a word for his
note-book: "There is for the mind but one grasp of happiness: from that
uppermost pinnacle of wisdom, whence we see that this world is well
designed."
CHAPTER XI
Of all the chief actors in the Bakewell Comedy, Master Ripton Thompson
awaited the fearful morning which was to decide Tom's fate, in
dolefullest mood, and suffered the gravest mental terrors. Adrian, on
parting with him, had taken casual occasion to speak of the position of
the criminal in modern Europe, assuring him that International Treaty now
did what Universal Empire had aforetime done, and that among Atlantic
barbarians now, as among the Scythians of old, an offender would find
precarious refuge and an emissary haunting him.
In the paternal home, under the roofs of Law, and removed from the
influence of his conscienceless young chief, the staggering nature of the
act he had put his hand to, its awful felonious aspect, overwhelmed
Ripton. He saw it now for the first time. "Why, it's next to murder!" he
cried out to his amazed soul, and wandered about the house with a prickly
skin. Thoughts of America, and commencing life afresh as an innocent
gentleman, had crossed his disordered brain. He wrote to his friend
Richard, proposing to collect disposable funds, and embark, in case of
Tom's breaking his word, or of accidental discovery. He dared not confide
the secret to his family, as his leader had sternly enjoined him to avoid
any weakness of that kind; and, being by nature honest and communicative,
the restriction was painful, and melancholy fell upon the boy. Mama
Thompson attributed it to love.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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