"Or, being a rolling stone, and probably no better off now than when he left England, he may stop in Australia. Still, there's the chance of his returning."
"Be sure he will, even if he has not done so," said Mark Endicott firmly. "If 'tis only to the old life and old ways, he'll come back. He'll say, as likely as not, that the thing he meant to do is done. Honor is married and a happy wife. Who would deny him his own again after that sacrifice?"
"I only think of Honor and the awful shock to her. It might kill her."
"Don't fret yourself there, or torture over that point. Now I'll say what will astound you: I think Honor may very possibly be less amazed and staggered at this news than ever you were, or I either."
"Not amazed! What do you—what in God's name do you mean by that? That she knew? Knew it and hid it from me? That she suffers now because——"
He broke off and sprang to his feet, while the other maintained silence and let the stricken man stride away his passion and regain his self-control. Soon enough Myles grew cool and contained. Then he walked to Mark and put his hand on the old man's shoulder.
"Forgive me; but this is the utter, blasting wreck and ruin of my whole life that you are hinting at," he said calmly.
"I hint at nothing," answered the other with unusual roughness. "Had I thought any such impossible thing I should have been as big a fool as you are. You ought to know your wife better than to believe she'd act a lie of that sort."
"I don't believe it—I never said that I believed it Your words seemed to imply that you must believe it. Else why do you suggest that Honor would be less astonished to hear of this resurrection than you and I are?"
"If you had taken a look back as I bid you, Myles, instead of rushing forward without looking, you need not have asked me that question. Glance back, even now, and what has been dark as the pit may lighten and lift somewhat. Just call to mind the sorrow that has hung so heavily over us of late days—the little chick that we counted so precious—too soon."