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Page 85
"And now I have finished. Before this meets any other eye than mine
I shall be dead--beyond the punishment of this world and awaiting
the punishment of the next. Lest some may fancy I do not believe
this,--thinking that if I did I could not so have acted,--let me
say there is no moral restraining power in fear. Fear is essentially
selfish, and selfishness is at the bottom of all crimes, my own among
the rest. I leave behind me none who will mourn me, and have but one
satisfaction, viz.: the knowledge that I shall be regarded as an
artist in crime. I take this occasion to bid the public an adieu
not altogether, I confess, unmixed with regrets. I am now on that
eminence called 'Life'; in a few minutes I shall have jumped off into
the darkness, and then---all is mystery."
When I had finished reading this article we all remained silent for
a long time. Gwen was the first to speak, and then only to say
slowly, as if thinking aloud: "And so it is all over."
CHAPTER IV
It often happens that two souls who love are, like the parts of
a Mexican gemel-ring, the more difficult to intertwine the better
they fit each other.
You may be assured that, after reading M. Godin's confession, we
looked forward to seeing Maitland with a good deal of interest. We
knew this new turn of affairs would cause him to call at once, so
we all strove to possess our souls in patience while we awaited his
coming. In less than half an hour he was with us. "The news of your
success has preceded you," said Gwen as soon as he was seated. "I
wish to be the first to offer you my congratulations. You have done
for me what none other could have done and I owe you a debt of
gratitude I can never repay. The thought that I was unable to carry
out my father's wishes,--that I could do nothing to free his name
from the reproaches which had been cast upon it, was crushing my
heart like a leaden weight. You have removed this burden, and,
believe me, words fail to express the gratitude I feel. I shall
beg of you to permit me to pay you the sum my father mentioned and
to--to--" She hesitated and Maitland did not permit her to
finish her sentence.
"You must pardon me, Miss Darrow," he replied, "but I can accept no
further payment for the little I have done. It has been a pleasure
to do it and the knowledge that you are now released from the
disagreeable possibilities of your father's will is more than
sufficient remuneration. If you still feel that you owe me anything,
perhaps you will be willing to grant me a favour."
"There is nothing," she said earnestly, "within my power to grant
for which you shall ask in vain."
"Let me beg of you then," he replied, "never again to seek to repay
me for any services you may fancy I have rendered. There is nothing
you could bestow upon me which I would accept." She gave him a
quick, searching glance and I noticed a look of pain upon her face,
but Maitland gave it no heed, for, indeed, he seemed to have much
ado either to know what he wanted to say, or knowing it, to say it.
"And now," he continued, "I must no longer presume to order your
actions. You have considered my wishes so conscientiously, have
kept your covenant so absolutely, that what promised to be a
disagreeable responsibility has become a pleasure which I find
myself loth to discontinue. All power leads to tyranny. Man cannot
be trusted with it. Its exercise becomes a consuming passion, and
he abuses it. The story is the same, whether nations or individuals
be considered. I myself, you see, am a case in point. I thank you
for the patience you have shown and the pains you have taken to make
everything easy and pleasant for me; and now I must be going, as I
have yet much to do in this matter. It may be a long time," he
said, extending his hand to her, "before we meet again. We have
travelled the same path--" but he paused as if unable to proceed,
and a deadly pallor overspread his face as he let fall both her hand
and his own. He made a heroic effort to proceed.
"I--I shall miss--very--very much miss--pray pardon me--I--I
believe I'm ill--a little faint I'd--I'd better get out into the
air--I shall--shall miss--pardon--I--I'm not quite myself--
goodbye, good-bye!" and he staggered unsteadily, half blindly to the
door and out into the street without another word. He certainly
did look ill.
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