Griffith Gaunt; or, Jealousy: Volumes 1 to 3 (of 3)Reade, Charles
General
Griffith Gaunt; or, Jealousy: Volumes 1 to 3 (of 3)
Reade, Charles
Bigamy -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century
Finally, being a Catholic, and therefore attaching more value to
self-torture than we do, the poor soul made this very grove her place
of penance Once a week she had the fortitude to drag herself to the
very spot where Griffith had denounced her; and there she would kneel
and pray for him and for herself. And, certainly, if humility and
self-abasement were qualities of the body, here was to be seen their
picture; for her way was to set her crucifix up at the foot of a tree;
then to bow herself all down, between kneeling and lying; and put her
lips meekly to the foot of the crucifix and so pray long and earnestly.
Now, one day, while she was thus crouching in prayer, a gentleman,
booted, and spurred, and splashed, drew near, with hesitating steps.
She was so absorbed, she did not hear those steps at all, till they
were very near; but then she trembled all over; for her delicate ear
recognized a manly tread she had not heard for many a day. She dared
not move nor look, for she thought it was a mere sound, sent to her by
heaven to comfort her.
But the next moment a well-known mellow voice came like a thunder-clap,
it shook her so.
"Forgive me, my good dame, but I desire to know----"
The question went no farther, for Kate Gaunt sprang to her feet, with
a loud scream, and stood glaring at Griffith Gaunt, and he at her.
And thus husband and wife met again--met, by some strange caprice of
Destiny, on the very spot where they had parted so horribly.
CHAPTER XVII.
The gaze these two persons bent on one another may be half imagined; it
can never be described.
Griffith spoke first. "In black!" said he, in a whisper.
His voice was low; his face, though pale and grim, had not the terrible
aspect he wore at parting.
So she thought he had come back in an amicable spirit; and she flew to
him with a cry of love, and threw her arm round his neck, and panted on
his shoulder.
At this reception, and the tremulous contact of one he had loved so
dearly, a strange shudder ran through his frame: a shudder that marked
his present repugnance, yet indicated her latent power.
He himself felt he had betrayed some weakness; and it was all the worse
for her: he caught her wrist and put her from him, not roughly, but
with a look of horror. "The day is gone by for that, madam," he gasped.
Then, sternly: "Think you I came here to play the credulous husband?"
Mrs. Gaunt drew back in her turn, and faltered out, "What! come back
here, and not sorry for what you have done? not the least sorry? Oh, my
heart! you have almost broken it."
"Prithee, no more of this," said Griffith, sternly. "You and I are
nought to one another now, and for ever. But there, you are but a
woman, and I did not come to quarrel with you." And he fixed his eyes
on the ground.
"Thank God for that," faltered Mrs. Gaunt. "Oh, sir, the sight of
you--the thought of what you were to me once--till jealousy blinded
you. Lend me your arm, if you are a man; my limbs do fail me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account