And what good will that do, when—Tom, Tom, we must move Heaven and earth for petitions. I'll take them up myself, and get George Rivers to take me to the Home Secretary. Never fear, while there's justice in Heaven.'
'Here's Henry!' exclaimed Tom, withholding his father, who had almost ran against the brother, as they encountered round a corner.
He was pale and bewildered, and hardly seemed to hear the Doctor's hasty asseverations that he would get a reprieve.
'He sent me to meet you,' said Henry. 'He wants you to go home—to Ave I mean. He says that is what he wants most—for you to go to her now, and to come to him to-morrow, or when you can; and he wants to hear how Aubrey is,' continued Henry, as if dreamily repeating a lesson.
'He saw then—?'
'Yes, and that seems to trouble him most.'
Dr. May was past speaking, and Tom was obliged to answer for him—that Aubrey was pretty well again, and had desired his dearest, dearest love; then asked how Leonard was.
'Calm and firm as ever,' said Henry, half choked. 'Nothing seems to upset him, but speaking of—of you and Aubrey, Dr. May—and poor Ave. But—but they'll be together before long.'
'No such thing,' said Dr. May. 'You will see that certainty cures, when suspense kills; and for him, I'll never believe but that all will be right yet. Are you going home?'
'I shall try to be with—with the dear unhappy boy as long as I can, and then I'll come home.'