He understood what his wife had understood in the first moment and
what an hour before would have seemed impossible to them both; he
understood that they were helpless, that they could neither protect
nor comfort the brave young life which had been confided to their
care. Their love, great as it was, lay useless, and his last pride,
his last consolation was gone. He threw it to the wrecked lumber on
his life's road. He did not hear Stafford's farewell nor his wife's
icy response. He stood there with his hand clenched on the balustrade,
motionless and wordless, until the evening shadows had crept over the
silent garden. In that hour he knew himself to be an old and broken
man.
Many miles away a dusty, haggard-faced rider urged his weary horse
over the great highroad. Danger lurked in every shadow, but he heeded
nothing--was scarcely conscious of what went on about him. He, too,
suffered, but no remorse mingled itself with his tight-lipped grief.
He had done the right and--according to his code and way of
thinking--the only merciful thing.
CHAPTER XV
THE GREAT HEALER
"Yes, it's a fine building," Travers said, looking about him with an
expression of satisfaction. "The Rajah hasn't spared the paint in any
way. You see, it was all native work, so he killed two birds with one
stone--pleased us and gave the aborigines a job. He has gone quite mad
on reforms, poor fellow!" He laughed, not in the least contemptuously,
but with a faint pity.
Pages:
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195