Christian fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Happily, the way was open. Only a short time ago, he had received a
most favorable offer, which he still held under consideration,--an
invitation to enter into partnership with an eminent lawyer of Savalla,
beginning to succumb to the infirmities of old age, and likely, ere
long, to surrender to him all the active business of the firm. Nothing
could suit him better. Here was scope for all his talent, employment
for all his energy. He would be near enough to Berganton, too, for any
good name that he might win to reach thither, and clear away whatever
prejudice against him still lingered there; yet not near enough to be
necessarily brought into contact with its inhabitants.
So much for the future; what of the present?
First, he would see Mrs. Lyte and Astra, bid them farewell, and arrange
for the removal of his effects. Then he would hasten to Savalla, to do
the last kindness that it was in his power to do for Carice, even
though it would seem to justify her father's late incredulity and
contemptuous treatment,--namely, meet Doctor Trubie, and dissuade him
from any further proceedings against Doctor Remy. There was still room
for a doubt that the latter was the murderer of Alec Arling;--let it
remain forever a doubt! No weapon should be lifted against him, that
must needs fall most heavily upon Carice!
It was gray dawn when this conclusion was reached. The stars were
fading from the sky, as a hint that it was time to extinguish his lamp.
The East showed a broad rim of light,--only a silver one now, but with
some mystic intimation of the gold to which it would soon be
transmuted. Was any similar change beginning to show itself in
Bergan's heart?
If so, he was in nowise conscious of it. His mind having attained to a
comparative degree of composure, his body began to press its claims
upon him with some pertinacity. It was twenty-four hours since he had
taken food, and nearly double that time since he had slept; this, too,
on the end of a long, tedious journey, and while undergoing sore
anxiety and distress of mind. No wonder that his head was aching
furiously at the temples, and seemed to have a ponderous weight on top,
nor that he had a sensation of dizziness at times, while a blinding
mist came before his eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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