The Mystery of M. FelixFarjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
General
The Mystery of M. Felix
Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
Detective and mystery stories; English fiction -- 19th century
"All that is humanly possible is being done; we can do no more."
It was poor comfort, and it did not diminish the young man's distress.
The lawyer remained for a few minutes longer, and then took his
departure. The day waned, and the night, without any tidings, and on
the following morning despair seemed to have reached its height in
Gerald's mind.
"Upon my soul," thought Leonard, "I think he is going mad. Well, that
would not be a bad ending to this insane hunt. I should be his
guardian, and should know how to take care of him--and his money. His?
No, mine, by the laws of nature."
During this day copies of telegrams received by the lawyers were sent
to Gerald, but not one of them satisfactory.
"She is lost to me forever," groaned Gerald.
"Amen!" thought Leonard.
Early the next morning, however, a telegram was handed in with these
words, "On the track." The lawyer hastened to Gerald.
"It is from one of our best men," he said. "Something will be known in
the course of the day."
But it was not till another night had passed that Gerald learned where
Emilia was.
CHAPTER XXX.
THE FLIGHT AND THE RESCUE.
The terrors of the night on which Emilia fled to escape from her
traducers produced an indelible effect upon her mind. Often in
afterlife, when the brief gleam of sunshine she was destined to enjoy
had died away, did she reflect with shudders upon the experiences of
those few pregnant hours. From the moment of her departure until
sunrise flooded the land with light, but brought only a deeper anguish
to her soul, there was an interval of darkness lasting barely seven
hours, but it seemed to her that it might have been seven times seven,
so heavily charged were the minutes with black woe. Feeble as she was,
and fragile as was her frame, she travelled a surprising distance
during these interminable hours. When, compelled by exhaustion to
rest, she had so far recovered as to be able to proceed, she ran with
fleet foot to make up for lost time, until, breathless and panting,
she came to a standstill, and caught at the nearest object for
support, generally a fence or the branch of a tree. Sometimes she
caught at shadows and fell, and lay supine awhile, to rise again in
ever-growing despair and continue her flight; but moral forces are
powerless against the forces of physical nature, and shortly after
sunrise her strength gave way, and now when she fell she was unable
from exhaustion to rise. She might have been able to continue her
flight for still a brief space, had she not been climbing a hill, the
exertion of which completely overpowered her. The spot upon which she
fell commanded a view of a river. It stretched to the north and south
of her, and in its waters were mirrored the gorgeous splendors of the
rising sun. She did not see it at first, for it came into view only at
the point she had reached; lower down the hill it was not visible to
sight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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