Sword and Gown: A NovelLawrence, George A. (George Alfred)
General
Sword and Gown: A Novel
Lawrence, George A. (George Alfred)
Fiction
Out of the black darkness a face slowly defined itself, bending over the
pillow and creeping close to his own--only a face--he could not
distinguish even the outline of a figure. He knew it very well, and the
eyes, too--but there was an upbraiding there that, while she lived, he
had never seen in those of gentle Emily Carlyle; and a reproach came
from the white lips, though they did not move to give it passage. "All
forgotten! I--the promise, too. And yet--I suffer--I suffer always." The
sad, pleading expression of the face and eyes vanished then; and a
strange, pale glare, not like the moonlight, that seemed to come from
within, lighted them up--fixed and rigid, yet eloquent, of unutterable
agony: there was written plainly the self-abhorrence of a heart
conscious of the coils of the undying worm--the despair of a soul
looking far into Futurity, yet seeing no end to the wrath to come. Then
the darkness swallowed up all; and, before Keene thoroughly roused
himself--with a smothered cry--he knew that he was alone again.
A cold dew lingered on the dreamer's forehead, as if a breath from
beyond the grave had lately passed over it; but terror was not the
predominating feeling. He had ruled that timid, trusting girl too long
and too imperiously to quail before her disembodied spirit. But a
strange sadness overcame him as he pondered upon all that she had
endured--and might still be enduring--for his sake: a glimmer of
something like generosity and compassion flickered for a brief space
over the surface of the cast-steel heart. He rose, and leaned out into
the steady, outer moonlight, musing for several minutes, and then began
muttering aloud. "It would be as well to clear off one debt at least. I
did pass my word. She deserves this sacrifice, if it were only for never
complaining: let her have her way. By G--d, I'll go off to-morrow
evening, and I'll tell Cecil so as soon as I can see her. Bah! what is a
man worth if he can not forget? Besides, I don't know--" The rest of his
doubts and scruples he confessed--not even to the stars.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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