He
started from his position; he paced the room in a paroxysm of
anguish; he would have given worlds for one tear to relieve his
oppressed heart. Ready to suffocate, he threw open a window and
leaned out. Not a star was visible to light the darkness. The wind
blew freshly, and with parched lips he inhaled it as the reviving
breath of Heaven.
He was sitting on the window-seat, with his head leaning against the
casement, when Pembroke entered unobserved; walking up to him, he
laid his hand upon his arm, and ejaculated in a tremulous voice,
"Thaddeus, dear Thaddeus!"
Thaddeus rose at the well-known sounds: they reminded him that he was
not yet alone in the world for his soul had been full of the dying
image of his own mother. Clasping Somerset in his arms, he exclaimed,
"Heaven has still reserved thee, faithful and beloved, to be my
comforter! In thy friendship and fond memories," he added, with a yet
heaving breast, "I shall find tender bonds of the past still to
endear me to the world."
Pembroke received the embrace of his friend; he felt his tears upon
his cheek; but he could neither return the one nor sympathize with
the other. The conviction that he was soon to sever that cord, that
he was to deprive the man who had preserved his life of the only stay
of his existence, and abandon him to despair, struck to his soul.
Grasping the hand of his friend, he gazed on his averted and dejected
features with a look of desperate horror.
Pages:
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584