"O Richard! when I think of him in his lonely dungeon, alone with remorse and horror; when I think of my mother's dying injunctions, I feel as if I must go to him, and fulfil the holy mission she bade me perform. Read her manuscript; you have a right to its contents, though they will rend your heart to peruse them; take it with you to your own room, when you go, for I cannot look on and see you read words that have been driven like burning arrows through my soul."
When I again met Richard, I could see in his bloodshot eyes what thoughts were bleeding within.
"My mother left me the same awful legacy," said he. "She left her forgiveness, if he lived; oblivion of all her wrongs, if dead. Oh! what bolt of vengeance is red enough for the wretch who could destroy the happiness of two such women as your mother and mine! All-righteous Providence, may thy retributive fires—"
"Stop! stop!" I cried, throwing my arms round him, and arresting his fearful words, "he is our father, you must not curse him. By our mothers' ashes, by their angels, now perhaps hovering over us, forbear, my brother, forbear."
"God help me," he exclaimed, his lips turning to an ashy paleness, "I did not know what I was about to say; but is it not enough to drive one mad, to think of the fountain of one's life being polluted, poisoned, and accursed?"
"One drop of the Saviour's blood can cleanse and make it pure, my brother, if he were only led to the foot of the cross."
Richard's countenance changed; a crimson flush swept over his face, and then left it colorless.
"My hand is not worthy to lead him there," he cried, "and if it were, I fear there is no mercy for so hardened, so inveterate a transgressor."
"There is, Richard, there is. Let the expiring thief bear witness to a Saviour's illimitable love. Oh! it is sinful to set bounds to God's immeasurable mercy. Let us go together, my brother. My mother's dream may yet be realized. Who knows but our weak, filial hands, may lift our unhappy father from the black abyss of sin and impenitence, Almighty God assisting us? If heavenly blessings are promised to him who turns a soul from the error of his ways, think, Richard, how divine the joy, if it be an erring parent's soul, thus reclaimed and brought home to God? Let us go, as soon as we have strength to commence the journey. I cannot remain here, where every thing reminds me of my blighted hopes and ruined happiness. It seems so like a grave, Richard."
"I wonder you do not hate. I wonder you do not curse me," exclaimed he, with sudden vehemence, "for it is my rashness that has wrought this desolation. Dearly have you purchased a most unworthy brother. Would I had never claimed you, Gabriella; never rolled down such a dark cloud on your heart and home."