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twg_000000051600 | vehemence to take hold of me that anger and disgust cast out fear. It was quite by accident that I touched and caught up the chisel lying on the window-sill. As the man's hand sought me it struck the edge of the chisel, and got a wound; that must have been how the blood came upon my dress. He seized | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051601 | my arm, and after a struggle wrenched the implement away. But I never struck him with it, far from giving him his death-blow. The chisel was never in my hand afterwards. When I rushed for the door in a sudden panic, for, knowing that I had hurt him, I believed the man in his rage might be capable of anything, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051602 | and when in springing after me he stumbled and fell, the chisel must have been held by him edge upwards, and so pierced him to his death." "That, I am certain now," Gifford said, "is what must have happened." "And you thought I had stabbed him?" the girl said with a reproachful smile. "I hardly dare ask you to forgive | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051603 | me for harbouring such a thought," he replied. "Yet had it been true I, who had been a witness of the man's vile conduct, could never have blamed you. If ever an act was justifiable--" An elongated shadow shot forward on the ground in front of them. Gifford stopped abruptly, and with an involuntary action his companion clutched his arm | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051604 | as both looked up expectantly. Next moment Gervase Henshaw stood before them. DEFIANCE For some moments Henshaw did not speak; indeed, it was probable that the unexpected success of his search for Edith Morriston--for such doubtless was his object--had so disagreeably startled him, that he was unable to pull those sharp wits of his together at once. But the expression | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051605 | which flashed into his eyes, and that came instantaneously, was of so vengeful and threatening a character, that Gifford felt glad he was there to protect the girl from her now enraged persecutor. "I did not expect to find you here, Miss Morriston." The words came sharply and wrathfully, when the man had found his glib tongue. Gifford answered. "Miss | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051606 | Morriston and I have been enjoying the view and the air of the pines." The commonplace remark naturally, as it was intended, went for nothing. Henshaw affected not to notice it. "I am glad I have come across you, Miss Morriston," he said, with an evident curbing of his chagrin, "as I have something rather important to say to you." | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051607 | "I am afraid I cannot hear it now, Mr. Henshaw," the girl returned coldly. Henshaw's face darkened. "I really must ask you to grant me an interview without delay," he retorted insistently, as though secure in his sense of power over the girl. "I am sure Mr. Gifford will permit--" "Mr. Gifford will do nothing of the sort," came the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051608 | bold and rather startling reply from the person alluded to. "As a friend of Miss Morriston's I do not intend to allow you to hold any more private conversations with her." No doubt with his knowledge of the world and of his own advantage Henshaw put down Gifford's resolute speech to mere bluff. And Gervase Henshaw was too old a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051609 | legal practitioner to be bluffed. "I do not for a moment admit your right to interfere," he retorted with an assumption of calm superiority. "I am addressing myself to Miss Morriston, who does not, I hope, approve of your somewhat singular manners." Gifford took a step out of the summerhouse and sternly faced Henshaw. "I am sure Miss Morriston will | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051610 | endorse anything I choose to say to a man who has constituted himself her cowardly persecutor," he said. "Now we don't want to have a dispute in a lady's presence," he added as Henshaw began an angry rejoinder. "You have got, unless you wish very unpleasant consequences to follow, to render an account to me, as Miss Morriston's friend, of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051611 | your abominable conduct towards her. But not here. You had better come to my room at the hotel at three o'clock this afternoon and hear what I shall have to say. And in the meantime you will address Miss Morriston only at the risk of a horsewhipping." Henshaw was looking at him steadfastly through eyes that blazed with hate. "I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051612 | wonder if you quite know whom and what you are trying to champion," he snarled. "Perfectly," was the cool reply. "A much wronged and cruelly persecuted lady. You had better postpone what you have to say till this afternoon, when we will come to an understanding as to your conduct. Now, as you are on private land, you had better | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051613 | take the nearest way to the public road." Henshaw looked as though he would have liked to bring the dispute to the issue of a physical encounter, had but the coward in him dared. "I am here by permission," he returned, standing his ground. "Which has been rescinded by the vile use to which you have chosen to put it," | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051614 | Gifford rejoined. "I have Miss Morriston's authority to treat you as a trespasser, and to order you off her brother's land." Henshaw fell back a step. "Very well, Mr. Gifford," he returned with an ugly sneer. "You talk with great confidence now, but we shall see. You will be wiser by this time tomorrow." With that he turned and walked | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051615 | off; Gifford, after watching him for a while, went back to the summer-house. "I have put things in the right train there," he remarked with a confident laugh. "I hope to be able to tell you this evening that Mr. Henshaw is a thing of the past." "You are very sanguine," she said, a little doubtfully. "I am afraid you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051616 | do not know the man." "I'm afraid I do," he replied. "He is obviously not an easy person to deal with. But I think I see my way. Tell me. He has threatened you in order to induce you to elope with him?" "Yes. He has found evidence among his brother's correspondence of the hold he had over me and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051617 | of his persecution. That would afford a sufficient motive for my killing him; and how could I prove that I did not strike the blow?" "It might be difficult," Gifford answered thoughtfully. "But I may be able to do it. Of course he knows you to be an heiress." "I am sure of that from something he once let slip. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051618 | It has been my inheritance which has brought all this trouble upon me, at any rate its persistency." "Yes. This man must be something of an adventurer, as his brother was. We shall see," Gifford said with a grim touch. "Now, I must not keep you any longer. I am so grateful for the confidence you have given me. May | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051619 | I call later on and tell you the result?" Her eyes were on him in an almost piteous searching for hope in his resolute face. "Of course," she responded. "I shall be so terribly anxious to know." Chivalrously avoiding any suggestion of tenderness, he shook hands and went off towards the town. ISSUE JOINED Punctually at the appointed time Gervase | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051620 | Henshaw was shown into Gifford's room. Kelson had received from his friend a hint of what was afoot and had naturally offered his services to back Gifford up, but they were refused. "It is very kind of you, Harry," Gifford had said, "and just what one would have expected from you. But, as you shall hear later, this is not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051621 | a business in which you or any one could usefully intervene. In fact it would be dangerous for me, considering the man I am dealing with, to say what I have to say before a third person." So Kelson went off to spend the afternoon at the Tredworths'. When Henshaw came in his expression bore no indication of the terms | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051622 | on which he and Gifford had lately parted. The keen face was unruffled and almost genial; but Gifford was not the man to be deceived by that outward seeming. Henshaw bowed and took the chair the other indicated. There was a short pause as though each waited for the other to begin. In the end it was Gifford who spoke | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051623 | first. "I should like to come to an understanding with you, Mr. Henshaw, with regard to a very serious annoyance, not to say persecution, to which Miss Morriston has been subjected at your hands." Henshaw drew back his thin lips in a smile. "I have to tell you," Gifford continued, "once and for all that it must cease." "Miss Morriston | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051624 | authorizes you to tell me that?" The question was put with something like a sneer. "I should hope it requires no authority," Gifford retorted. "Having cognizance of what has been going on, it is my plain duty--" "Why yours?" Henshaw interrupted coolly. "For a very good reason," Gifford replied; "one which I may have to tell you presently." He saw | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051625 | Henshaw flush and dart a glance of hate at him. It was plain he had misinterpreted the reply. But the exhibition was only momentary. "Admitting in the meantime your right to interfere," Henshaw said, now with perfect coolness, "allow me to tell you that you are taking a very foolish course." "I shall be glad to know how." "The reason | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051626 | is, that if you have any regard, as you suggest, for Miss Morriston, you are going the right way to do her a terrible injury." Gifford rose and stood by the fire-place. "To come to the point at once without further preliminary fencing," he said quietly, "you mean, I take it, that I am forcing you to denounce her as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051627 | being guilty of your brother's death." For an instant Henshaw seemed taken aback by the other's directness. "There can be no doubt, holding the evidence I do, that she was guilty of it," he retorted uncompromisingly. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Henshaw," Gifford objected with decision, "there can be, and is, a very great deal more than a doubt of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051628 | it." Henshaw shot a searching glance at the man who spoke so confidently, as though trying to probe what, if anything, was behind his words. "Perhaps you know then," he returned with his sneering smile, "how otherwise, if the lady had no hand in it, my brother came by his death?" "I do," was the quiet answer. "Then," still the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051629 | smile of sneering incredulity, "it is clearly your duty to make it known." "Clearly," Gifford assented in a calm tone. "That is why I asked you to come here this afternoon." Henshaw was looking at him with a sort of malicious curiosity. In spite of his smartness he seemed at a loss to divine what the other was driving at, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051630 | unless it were a well-studied line of bluff. But that Gifford could have, apart from what Edith Morriston might have told him, any intimate knowledge of the tragedy was inconceivable. "I shall be glad to hear what you have to say, Mr. Gifford," he responded, in perhaps much greater curiosity than he chose to show. "Then I have to inform | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051631 | you positively," Gifford answered, "that your brother's fatal wound was the result of a pure accident." Coming from Edith Morriston's champion, there was nothing surprising in that assertion. Certainly if that were the other's strong suit he could easily beat it. It was therefore in a tone of confidence and relief that he demanded, "You can prove it?" "I can." | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051632 | "By Miss Morriston's testimony?" "Not at all. By my own." "Your own?" Henshaw's question was put with a curling lip. "My own," Gifford repeated steadfastly. "May one ask what you mean by that?" Henshaw's contemptuous incredulity was by no means diminished even by the other's confident attitude. Gifford gave a short laugh. "Naturally you do not take my meaning. Obviously | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051633 | you think I am not a competent witness, that I know nothing except by hearsay. You are, extraordinary as it may seem, quite wrong. My testimony would be of nothing but what I myself saw and heard." "What do you mean?" Henshaw had for a moment seemed to be calculating the probability of this monstrous suggestion being a fact, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051634 | had dismissed it with the contempt which showed itself in his question. "I mean," Gifford replied with quiet assurance, "that I happened to be a witness of the interview in the tower-room between your brother and Miss Morriston, that I was there when he received his death-wound, and that it was I whom the girl Haynes saw descending by a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051635 | rope from the top window." Henshaw had started to his feet, his face working with an almost passionate astonishment. "You--you tell me all that," he cried, "and expect me to believe it?" "I have told you and shall tell you nothing," was the cool reply, "that I am not prepared to state on oath in the witness-box." For a while | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051636 | Henshaw seemed without the power to reply, dumbfounded, as his active brain tried to realize the probabilities of the declaration. "It seems to me," he said at length in a voice of which he was scarcely master, "that, whether your statement is true or otherwise, you are placing yourself in an uncommonly dangerous position, Mr. Gifford." "I am aware that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051637 | I am inviting a certain amount of ugly suspicion," Gifford agreed, "but the truth, which might have remained a mystery, has been forced from me by the necessity of protecting Miss Morriston. Perhaps you had better hear a frank account of the whole story, and the explanation of what I admit you are so far justified in setting down as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051638 | concocted and wildly improbable." "I should very much like to hear it," Henshaw returned in a tone which held out no promise of credence. Thereupon Gifford gave him a terse account of the events and the chance which had led him into the tower and to be a secret witness of what happened there. Remembering that he was addressing the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051639 | dead man's brother, he recounted the details of the interview without feeling; indeed he threw no more colour into it than if he had been opening a case in court. He simply stated the facts without comment. Henshaw listened to the singular story in an attitude of doggedly unemotional attention. Lawyer-like he restrained all tendency to interrupt the narrative and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051640 | asked no question as it proceeded. Nevertheless it was clear he was thinking keenly, eager to note any weak points which he could turn to use. When the recital had come to an end he said coolly-- "Your story is a very extraordinary one, Mr. Gifford; I won't call it, as it seems at first sight, wildly improbable, but it | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051641 | is at any rate an almost incredible coincidence. With your knowledge of the law I need scarcely remind you that the facts as you have just recounted them place you in a rather unenviable position." "As I have already said," Gifford replied, "my story is calculated to suggest suspicion against me. But I am prepared to risk that consequence." "In | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051642 | court," Henshaw observed, with a malicious smile, "handled by a counsel who knew his business, your statement could be given a very ugly turn indeed." "As I have just told you," Gifford returned quietly, "I would take that risk rather than allow Miss Morriston to remain longer under suspicion. As for myself I should have every confidence in the result." | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051643 | "It is well to be sanguine," Henshaw sneered. "If you have not already done so, are you prepared to repeat your story to the police?" "Most certainly I am, if necessary," was the prompt answer. "But I do not fancy you will wish me to do so." Henshaw's look was one of surprise, real or affected. "Indeed? Why so?" "I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051644 | will tell you," Gifford replied with a touch of sternness. "Because it would be absolutely against your interest. For one thing it would, short of absolute proof, leave still the shadow of doubt over your brother's death, it would effectually put a stop to your designs on Miss Morriston, which in any case must come to an end, and it | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051645 | would show up your dead brother's character and conduct in a very disreputable light. Now what I have to say to you is this. I know that, following in your brother's footsteps, you have been subjecting Miss Morriston to an amount of very hateful persecution. There may have been a certain excuse for it, at any rate a degree of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051646 | temptation, but your designs have not been welcome to the lady, and they must forthwith come to an end. Now unless you undertake to cease your attentions to Miss Morriston, in short to put an end at once and for all to this persecution, I shall effectually remove the hold you imagine you have over her by going straight to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051647 | the police, giving them the real story of what happened in the tower that night and as a natural consequence shall give evidence to that effect at the adjourned inquest. You will know best whether it would be worth your while to force me to do this. I simply state the position." He waited for Henshaw's answer. The man was | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051648 | plainly cornered and seemed to be divided between a desire to let Gifford go on and place himself in a dangerous situation, and the more expedient course of raising a scandal which would touch him as well as disgrace his dead brother. "This is a clever piece of bluff, Mr. Gifford," he said at length; "but--" "It is no bluff | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051649 | at all," Gifford interrupted firmly. "I am merely determined to take the obvious course to save Miss Morriston from something a good deal worse than annoyance. I have no wish to discredit the dead, but I must remind you that the persecution of Miss Morriston by your brother had gone on for a very considerable time, and had latterly developed | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051650 | into an atrocious system of bullying. It is not an occasion for mincing one's expressions, and I must say that in my opinion your own conduct has been very little, if any, better; and that will be the judgment of every decent man if the truth comes out, as come out it shall, unless you agree to my terms before | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051651 | you leave this room." For a while Henshaw made no reply. He sat thinking strenuously, evidently weighing his chances, estimating the strength of his adversary's position. Now and again he shot a glance, half probing, half sullen, at Gifford, who leaned back against the mantelpiece coolly awaiting his answer. At length he spoke. "This is a very fine piece of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051652 | bravado, Mr. Gifford. But I am not such a fool as it pleases you to think me. It is very good of you to explain to me my position in this affair; I am, however, quite capable of seeing that for myself. And you can hardly expect me to look upon your gratuitous advice as disinterested." The man was talking | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051653 | to gain time; Gifford shrewdly guessed that. "I might be pardoned for supposing you do not altogether realize how you stand," he replied quietly. "But, after all, that is, as you suggest, your affair." Henshaw forced a smile. "The point of view is everything," he said in a preoccupied tone; "and ours, yours and mine, are diametrically opposed." "The point | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051654 | of view which perhaps ought most to be considered," Gifford retorted with rising impatience, "is that of the honourable profession to which we both belong. If you are prepared to face the odium, professional and social, of an exposure--" Henshaw interrupted him with a wave of the hand. "You may apply that to yourself and to your friend, Miss Morriston," | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051655 | he said sharply. "I can take care of myself, thank you." Gifford shrugged. "Very well, then. There is no more to be said." He crossed the room and took up his hat. "I will go and see Major Freeman at once." At the door he turned, to see with surprise and a certain satisfaction that Henshaw, although he had risen | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051656 | from his chair, seemed in no hurry to move. "You are coming with me," he suggested. "It would be quite in order, I think, for you to be present at my statement--unless you prefer not." It seemed clear that the rather foxy Gervase Henshaw had really more than suspected a studied game of bluff. But now Gifford's attitude tended to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051657 | put that out of the question. "In the circumstances, as your statement will consist mainly of a slander against me and my dead brother," Henshaw replied sullenly, "I prefer to keep out of the business for the present. I fancy," he added with an ugly significance, "that the police will be quite equal to dealing with the situation without any | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051658 | assistance or intervention from me." Gifford ignored the covert threat. "Very well, then," he said, throwing open the door and standing aside for Henshaw to pass out; "I will go alone. Yes; it will be better." But Henshaw did not move. "I don't quite gather," he said in answer to Gifford's glance of inquiry, "exactly what your object is in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051659 | taking this step." "I should have thought--" Gifford began. "Is it," Henshaw proceeded, falling back now to his ordinary lawyer-like tone--"is it merely to checkmate what you are pleased to call my designs upon Miss Morriston?" "That will be a mere incidental result," Gifford answered, shutting the door and coming back into the room. "My object is to put it, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051660 | at once and for all, out of your power to hold over Miss Morriston the threat that she is at any moment liable to be accused--by you of all people--of your brother's murder, and so suggest that she is in your power." "Why do you say by me, of all people?" "You who profess an affection for her." "Your word | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051661 | profess scarcely does me justice, Mr. Gifford," Henshaw returned, drawing back his shut lips. "I had, and have, a very sincere affection for Edith Morriston, which, it seems, I am not to be allowed to declare or even have credit for. As a man of the world you can hardly pretend to be ignorant of what a man will do | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051662 | when his happiness is at stake. What he does under such a stress is no guide to his real feelings. But we need not labour that point. My affection, genuine or not, seems to be in no fair way to be requited, and I had already made up my mind to leave it at that. I have merely kept up | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051663 | the game to this point out of curiosity to see how far your--shall we say knight-errantry?--would lead you. I will now relieve you from the necessity of going through an act of Quixotic folly which would assuredly, sooner or later, have unpleasant consequences for you." So Gifford realized with a thrill of pleasure that he had won. He felt that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051664 | in much of his speech the man was lying; that no consideration of mere unrequited affection had induced him to abandon his design. "I am glad to hear you have come to a sensible conclusion," he said as coolly as the sense of triumph would let him. "Whatever happened you could hardly have expected your--plans to succeed." "I don't know | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051665 | that," Henshaw retorted, with a touch of a beaten man's malice. "Anyhow I have my own ideas on the subject. But looking into the future with my brother's blood between us I think it might have turned out a hideous mistake." "A safe conjecture," Gifford commented, between indignation and amusement at the cool way the man was now trying to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051666 | save his face. "Anyhow there's an end of it," Henshaw said with an air and gesture of half scornfully dismissing the affair. "And so I bid you good afternoon." As he walked towards the door Gifford intercepted him. "Not quite so fast, Mr. Henshaw," he said resolutely. "We can't leave the affair like this." "What do you mean?" Henshaw ejaculated, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051667 | with a look which was half defiant, half apprehensive. "You have heard my story," Gifford pursued with steady decisiveness, "and have, I presume, accepted it." "For what it is worth." The smart of defeat prompted the futile reply. "That won't do at all," Gifford returned with sternness. "You either accept the account I have just given you, or you do | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051668 | not." There was something like murder in Henshaw's eyes as he replied, "This bullying attitude is what I might expect from you. To put an end, however, to this most unpleasant interview you may take it that I accept your statement." "To the absolute exoneration of Miss Morriston?" "Naturally." "I must have your assurance in writing." Henshaw fell back a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051669 | step and for a moment showed signs of an uncompromising refusal. "You are going a little too far, Mr. Gifford," he said doggedly. "Not at all," Gifford retorted. "It is imperatively necessary." "Is it?" Henshaw sneered. "For what purpose?" "For Miss Morriston's protection." The sneer deepened. "I should have thought that purpose quite negligible, seeing how valiantly the lady is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051670 | already protected. But I have no objection," he added in an offhand tone, "as you seem to distrust the lasting power of bluff, to give you an extra safeguard. Indeed I think it just as well, all things considered, that Miss Morriston should have it. Give me a pen and a sheet of paper." Henshaw's manner was now the quintessence | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051671 | of insolence, but Gifford could afford, although it cost him an effort, to ignore it. With the practised pen of a lawyer Henshaw quickly wrote down a short declaration, signing it with a flourish and then flicking it across the table to Gifford. "That should meet the case," he said, leaning back confidently and thrusting his hands into his pockets. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051672 | Dealing with one who, like himself, was learned in the law he had, to save trouble, written a terse declaration which he knew should be quite acceptable. It simply stated that from certain facts which had come to his knowledge he was quite satisfied that his brother's death had been caused by an accident, and that no one was to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051673 | blame for it, and he thereby undertook to make no future charge or imputation against any one, in connexion therewith. "Yes, that will do," Gifford answered curtly when he had read the few lines. Henshaw rose with a rather mocking smile. "I congratulate you on your--luck, Mr. Gifford," he said with a studied emphasis, and so left the room. GIFFORD'S | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051674 | REWARD With the precious declaration in his pocket Gifford lost no time in going to Wynford Place. His light heart must have been reflected in his face, for Edith Morriston's anxious look brightened as she joined him in the drawing-room. All the same it seemed as though she almost feared to ask the result, and he was the first to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051675 | speak. "I bring you good news, Miss Morriston. You have nothing more to fear from Gervase Henshaw." "Ah!" She caught her breath, and for a moment seemed unable to respond. "Tell me," she said at length, almost breathlessly. "I have had a long and, as you may imagine, not very pleasant interview with the fellow," he answered quietly; "and am | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051676 | happy to say I won all along the line." "You won? You mean--?" He had taken the declaration from his pocket-book and for answer handed it to her. With a manifest effort to control her feelings she read it eagerly. Then her voice trembled as she spoke. "Mr. Gifford, what can I say? I wish I knew how to thank | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051677 | you." "Please don't try," he replied lightly. "If you only knew the pleasure it has given me to get the better of this fellow you would hardly consider thanks necessary. Would you care to hear a short account of what happened?" he added tactfully, with the intention, seeing how painful the revulsion was, of giving her time to recover from | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051678 | her agitation. "Please; do tell me." She spoke mechanically, still hardly able to trust her voice above a whisper. They sat down and he related the salient points of his interview with Henshaw. "It was lucky that I happened to have something of a hold over him," he concluded with a laugh; "Mr. Gervase Henshaw is not wanting in determination, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051679 | and it took a long time to persuade him that he could not possibly win the game he was playing; but he stood to lose more heavily than he could afford. The conclusion, however, was at last borne in upon him that the position he had taken up was untenable, and that paper is the result." "That paper," she said | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051680 | in a low voice, "means life to me instead of a living death; it means more than I can tell you, more than even you can understand." He had risen, but before he could speak she had come to him and impulsively taken his hand. "Mr. Gifford," she said, "tell me how I can repay you." Her eyes met his; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051681 | they were full of gratitude and something more. But he resisted the temptation to answer her question in the way it was plain to him he was invited to do. "It is reward enough for me to have served you," he responded steadily. "Seeing that chance gave me the power, I could do no less." "You would have risked your | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051682 | life for mine," she persisted, her eyes still on him. "Hardly that," he returned, with an effort to force a smile. "But had it been necessary, I should have been quite content to do so." "And you will not tell me how I can show my gratitude?" "I did not do it for reward," he murmured, scarcely able to restrain | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051683 | himself. "I am sure of that," she assented. "But you once hinted, or at any rate led me to believe, that I could repay you." There could be no pretence of ignoring her meaning now. Still he felt that chivalry forbade his acceptance. "I was wrong," he replied with an effort, "and most unfair if I suggested a bargain." "Have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051684 | you repented the suggestion?" she asked almost quizzingly and with a curious absence of her characteristic pride. "Only in a sense," he answered. "I hope I am too honourable to take an unfair advantage." She laughed now; joyously, it seemed. "If your scruples are so strong there will be nothing for it but for me to throw away mine and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051685 | offer myself to you." "Edith," he exclaimed in a flash of rapture, then, checked the passionate impulse to take her in his arms. "You must not; not now, not now. It is not fair to yourself. At the moment of your release from this horrible danger you cannot be master of yourself. You must not mistake gratitude for love." Edith | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051686 | drew back with a touch of resentful pride. "If you think I don't know my own mind--" she began. "Does any one know his own mind at such a crisis as you have just passed through?" he said, a little wistfully. "Edith," he went on as he took her unresisting hand, "you must not be offended with me. Think. The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051687 | whole object of what I have done for you has been to set you free, as free as though you had woke up to find the episode of these Henshaws had been no more than a horrible dream. You must be free, you must realize and enjoy your freedom. You are now relieved from the crushing weight you have borne | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051688 | so long; the release must be untouched by the shadow of a bargain expressed or implied. That is the only way in which a man of honour can regard the position." "Very well," she returned simply, "I understand. I am sorry for my mistake." Her manner shook his resolution. "I can't think you understand," he replied forcibly. "I only ask, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051689 | in fairness to yourself, for time. Don't think that I am not desperately in love with you. You must have seen it, ever since our first confidential talk, that night at the Stograve dance. And my love has gone on increasing every day till--oh, you don't know how cruelly hard it is to resist taking you at your word. But | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051690 | I can't, I simply can't snatch at an unfair advantage, however great the temptation. I must give you time, time to know your own heart when the nightmare shall have passed away. I propose to return to town as soon as this man Henshaw has cleared out of the neighbourhood. Will you let us be as we are for a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051691 | month, Edith, and if then you are of the same mind, send me a line and I will come to you by the first train. Is not that only fair?" She gave a little sigh of contentment. "Very well," she said, "if that will satisfy you." He took her hand. "It will seem a horribly long time to wait; but | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051692 | I feel it is right. Today is the 16th; on this day month I shall hear from you?" "Yes, on the 16th," she answered. "And so," he said, "you are free, unless you call me back to you." "That is understood," she said with a smile. He might have kissed her lips, her look into his eyes was almost an | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051693 | invitation, but, having steeled himself to be scrupulously fair, he refrained and contented himself with kissing her hand. On reaching the hotel he heard with satisfaction that Henshaw had gone off by the late afternoon train and had suggested the unlikelihood of his returning. "So I suppose he is content to let the mystery remain a mystery," the landlord remarked. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051694 | And the Coroner's jury subsequently had perforce to come to the same conclusion. On the 16th of the following month, Hugh Gifford's impatience and anxiety were set at rest, as the morning's post brought the expected letter from Wynford. "Dick and I are expecting you here tomorrow, unless you have changed your mind--I have not. The . train shall be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051695 | met if you do not wire to the contrary." When Gifford jumped out of the . Edith was on the platform. As they shook hands he read in her eyes an unwonted happiness and knew for certain that all was well. "I had something to do in the town and thought I might as well come on to the station," | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051696 | Edith said with a lurking smile. "I am glad you have not added even a half-hour to this long month," he replied as they took their seats in the carriage. "It has been long," she murmured. "Long enough to set our doubts at rest." "I never had any," she replied quietly. He drew her to him and kissed her. End | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051697 | The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri Translated by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW PARADISO Contents I. The Ascent to the First Heaven. The Sphere of Fire. II. The First Heaven, the Moon: Spirits who, having taken Sacred Vows, were forced to violate them. The Lunar Spots. III. Piccarda Donati and the Empress Constance. IV. Questionings of the Soul and of Broken Vows. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051698 | V. Discourse of Beatrice on Vows and Compensations. Ascent to the Second Heaven, Mercury: Spirits who for the Love of Fame achieved great Deeds. VI. Justinian. The Roman Eagle. The Empire. Romeo. VII. Beatrices Discourse of the Crucifixion, the Incarnation, the Immortality of the Soul, and the Resurrection of the Body. VIII. Ascent to the Third Heaven, Venus: Lovers. Charles | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000051699 | Martel. Discourse on diverse Natures. IX. Cunizza da Romano, Folco of Marseilles, and Rahab. Neglect of the Holy Land. X. The Fourth Heaven, the Sun: Theologians and Fathers of the Church. The First Circle. St. Thomas of Aquinas. XI. St. Thomas recounts the Life of St. Francis. Lament over the State of the Dominican Order. XII. St. Buonaventura recounts the | 60 | gutenberg |
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