Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Vol. 26, November, 1880Various
History
Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Vol. 26, November, 1880
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- Periodicals
A ray of hope seemed once more near, and catching at the feeblest
chance of being brought again face to face with Adam, Eve, unable to
speak, stretched out her hand, which Reuben took, grasped it almost
to pain, then let it go, and with it every hope of love that lingered
still for Eve.
The rest of the time was spent in explanations of the various incidents
relating to the all-engrossing event, the details which bore upon it,
the circumstances which surrounded it, until, from following out all
these into their different channels, Reuben began to have a clearer
conception of the men, their characters, their individual virtues and
collective failings, growing interested in them almost against his
will. The hour was late before he recollected that until he reached his
home he could hardly settle his plans so as to secure an entrance into
the prison on the following day. Bidding Eve good-night, he left the
house and walked away, only stopping at the turn of the street to step
into the road and cast his wistful gaze up to the window of the room
which to him now was as the tomb of his dead love.
An ordinary workingman standing in an obscure street is not a figure
to arouse much interest, and Reuben's stolid face gave little index to
the varied emotions which surged within his troubled heart. He was able
to return the gruff "Good-night!" the watchman gave, and the old man,
passing on, went wondering as to the cause of such anxious survey on
Reuben's part. For as he stood his thoughts ran here and there, and by
the magic of their power showed to his view the long-gone joys of other
days. He watched the struggling birth of love, scorched himself in its
flame, and felt by turns the tortures and delights its presence gives
to those who live on hope alone: then sadly saw it fade from out his
sight, sicken and faint almost to death, and yet it did not die until
by that one action he had robbed it of life and killed it evermore.
Yes, love was dead, and love was Eve; and for Reuben May the Eve he had
loved so fondly lived no longer.
CHAPTER XXXV.
During the time which had elapsed since the night on which Eve Pascal
and Reuben May renewed their bond of friendship many an anxious
incident had occurred to test its value and cement its strength.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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