A few moments of trembling almost to agony, a few agitated tears, and the natural gladness of the hour assumed its genuine aspect. Falkner, commanding himself, could shake hands with Osborne, and thank him, and Elizabeth presented him to Mrs. Raby. He at once comprehended the kindness of her visit, and acknowledged it with a heartfelt thankfulness that showed how much he had suffered while picturing Elizabeth's abandonment. Soon various other persons poured into the room, and it was necessary to pass through many congratulations, and to thank, and, what was really painful, to listen to the outpouring talk of those persons who had been present at the trial. Yet, at such a moment, the heart, warmed and open, acknowledges few distinctions. Among those whose evident joy in the result filled Elizabeth with gratitude, she and Falkner felt touched by none so much as the visit of a turnkey, who was ashamed to show himself, yet who, hearing they were immediately to quit Carlisle, begged permission to see them once again. The poor fellow, who looked on Elizabeth as an angel and Falkner as a demigod--for, not forgetting others in their adversity, they had discovered and assisted his necessities--the poor fellow seemed out of his mind with joy--ecstasy was painted on his face--there was no mistaking the clear language of a full and grateful heart. At length the hurry and tumult subsided--all departed. Falkner and his beloved companion were left alone, and for a few short hours enjoyed a satisfaction so perfect that angels might have envied them. Falkner was humbled, it is true, and looked to the past with the same remorse; but in vain did he think that his pride ought to feel deeply wounded by the scene of that day; in vain did he tell himself that, after such a trial, the purity of his honour was tarnished--his heart told another tale. Its emphatic emotions banished every conventional or sophisticated regret. He was honestly though calmly glad, and acknowledged the homely feeling with the sincerity of a man who had never been nourished in false refinements or factitious woes. In the evening, when it was dusk, said Falkner, "Let us, love, take a walk." The words made Elizabeth both laugh and cry for joy; he put on his hat, and, with her on his arm, they got quickly out of the town, and strolled down a neighbouring lane. The wind that waved the heads of the still leafless trees, the aspect of the starry sky, the wide-spread fields, were felt as blessings from Heaven by the liberated prisoner. "They all seem," he said, "created purely for my enjoyment. How sweet is nature--how divine a thing is liberty! Oh, my God! I dare not be so happy as I would--there is one thought to chill the genial glow; but for the image of lost, dead Alithea, I should enjoy a felicity too pure for frail humanity."