Miriam's anxiety for Hamil's safety during the campaign in Abyssinia had been light and easy to be borne compared with what she felt now; for had not her brother owned that a taste for drinking was his besetting weakness, and to what must that taste, if indulged, inevitably lead in the end? To shame, disease, and misery, condemnation before God, things a thousandfold worse than death! Hamil was entering on the steep downward incline, and what a precipice lay before him! The full extent of her brother's peril flashed on the mind of Miriam, and every other feeling yielded to the one desire to save him, as she quickened her steps almost to a run.
The modest young maiden had never crossed the threshold of a public-house, nor had she even thought of doing so before; Miriam had a natural shrinking from going amongst strangers, and into a place where it would be unseemly for her to appear—and yet, to the no small surprise of Hamil, as he stood at the bar with a glass of gin in his hand, he heard a voice nervously pronounce his name, and, turning, beheld his twin at his side!
"You here!" exclaimed the soldier, almost dropping the glass in his amazement.
"I must speak with you—it is on a matter of importance—I am leaving my place," said Miriam, so breathless with excitement, that she could hardly bring out the words.
Hamil's first impulse was to toss off the liquor for which he had paid, before leaving the bar, but he changed his intention, put down the untasted glass, and followed his sister out of the place. The soldier was annoyed that Miriam, even for one minute, should have been seen within those doors.
"What brought you here? What had you to say to me?" Hamil asked, with a little approach to impatience in his manner; had he possessed less fine a temper, he would have been angry.
"Oh! Hamil—how could you, after all that you promised—" began Miriam, but she could not, from emotion, go on. All that had led her to seek her brother on the present occasion, her own affairs, her loss of place, her quarrel with Caroline, seemed to have entirely escaped from her mind. She had room there now for but one thought, that of the temptation and danger of Hamil.
The soldier could very well imagine what was passing through the brain of his sister. He felt humbled and disgusted with himself, for when he had entered that public-house, Hamil knew that he was breaking through many an earnest resolution made to himself, as well as the promise made to his sister. The twins walked on for some little way in silence, then, as if by tacit consent, they took the first turn into the Regent's Park.
Entering the enclosure, Hamil and Miriam went over the grass to a quiet seat, where they could converse together undisturbed and unheeded by any one. Neither of the Macbeans uttered another word until they had reached this seat, and sat down upon it; each was busy with bitter thoughts which it would be difficult and painful to put into language. Miriam, indeed, was beginning to turn her thoughts into prayer, and when once she was able to do this, half their bitterness was taken away.