As he meditatively made his way up the companion-ladder, he could not
help thinking of the singularity of this last meeting between him and
his rival, and comparing it with the one which had occurred on that
lovely June evening, on the road to Stoke. As the two men stood there
on the white dusty road, with the rays of the declining sun darting down
upon them through the foliage of the overhanging trees, and as Walford
told the story of his just concluded engagement to Lucy, how little,
thought George, could either of them suspect that, when they next came
into such close contact, it would be literally on the bosom of the broad
Atlantic, up-borne by nothing save its restless waters. Poor Leicester
was greatly disturbed by this singular and unconscious claim upon his
hospitality which had so recently arisen. He was as generous-hearted a
man as the sun ever shone upon, ever ready to give liberally and
ungrudgingly to any one who seemed to be in need; but somehow he wished
that in the present instance it had fallen to the lot of some one else
than himself to play the part of rescuer and benefactor, or that the
rescued individual had been any one rather than Walford. The fact was
that he wanted to forget, if possible, the keen and bitter pain of his
disappointment: and now the presence of his unhappy guest had brought it
all back to him and would keep it in poignant remembrance as long as
they two should remain together. Then, he bethought himself how selfish
a feeling he had been allowing himself to indulge; how utterly he had
forgotten that the matter was one with which Lucy's happiness must be
inseparably connected; and that fate--or Providence, rather, as he
reverently corrected himself--had in a very great measure confided that
happiness to his keeping, by delivering into his care the man upon whom
she had bestowed the priceless treasure of her heart's best love. And
as he thought this, he solemnly vowed that he would honestly strive to
prove worthy of the trust; that he would be to Lucy's lover a brother--
ay, _more_ than a brother; that he would nurse and tend him, restore to
him his reason if God willed it, and, in any case, watch over and
protect him--at the cost of his own life even, if need were--until he
could restore him to the arms of the woman who was impatiently awaiting
at home his safe return.
"His well-being has been confided to me as a sacred trust," he murmured
in conclusion, "and, please God, I will prove myself worthy of it."
With this resolution he dismissed the subject temporarily from his
thoughts, and turned his attention once more to the affairs of the ship.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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