'Late enough,' said Alston, looking at his watch; 'but I have some work to do in the library before I can think of rest.'
'I will join you there, then,' said Helen, rising. 'I am not in the least sleepy, only I must first get rid of this stiff silk dress, and these bracelets and jewels. I can then send that wretched Hortense to bed, and I will be down again in five minutes.'
Alston Griswold leaned back in his chair, and looked long and lovingly at his wife as she glided away, and at the spot which she had occupied after she had passed out of his sight. Then his brow darkened, and he thrust his hands deeply into his pockets as he slowly rose from his seat.
Did he share the presentiment as to his departure which his wife had confessed? Not the least in the world. He was by far too practical a man of business to have given way to any such folly. But the word--and yet-- No, it would be madness. He would be the laughing-stock of Wall-street and the butt of his clubs if he allowed a woman's weakness to influence him in a matter where three or four millions were involved, and in the conduct of which his reputation and his fortune would be made or marred. He would close up his preparations at once, and the first thing to be attended to was that letter of instructions.
Acting at once upon this determination, he crossed the hall and entered the library--an old room furnished with black oak, and entirely surrounded with antique bookcases filled with a choice collection, which, indeed, their owner never opened, but which were Helen's greatest resource and delight. On the other side of the large open folding-doors were the supper-rooms, the lights in which were still burning, though the tables had been cleared ere the servants retired to rest. Griswold looked somewhat surprised when he saw the room still lighted, and was on the point of ringing the bell; but remembering there was no one to answer it, he turned back into the library, lit a cigar, and seating himself at the writing-table, took from one of the drawers a sheet of paper, two sides of which were already covered.
By the shaded light of the kerosene lamp, which stood upon the writing-table, Griswold read this paper carefully through; then laying it down before him, fell into a train of thought. 'It looks innocent enough,' he said; 'it might be what I shall tell her it is, when I put into her hand--a mere paper on business, to be read at a future time--and yet to think how all-powerful it will be, or ought to be, in the event of anything happening to me. To be read at some future time, eh! I think I can see the scene which will occur at that future time plainly enough; what a commotion there would be in Wall-street, what an anxiety amongst a certain set to know whether I had carried out the commission with which I had been intrusted, before I died. The commission with which I have been intrusted, that is what they would be anxious about--not me, their agent; only poor Helen would think of me. What she said just now about her little regard for wealth was true enough. If the enterprise succeeded, she would be rich as an empress; if it failed, she would have comparatively little to live upon; but in neither case would she care much, I flatter myself, if I were gone. The joys or the woes of life would affect her equally little if I were not there to share them with her. What a wretchedly gloomy train of thought I have fallen into!' he muttered, half aloud, striking his hand upon the desk. 'Hundreds of men go to and return from Europe every week; it is the boast of the Cunard Company that they have never lost a passenger, and yet here am I, in rude health and strength, picturing to myself what is to happen after my immediately approaching death. Helen must have innoculated me with a touch of her presentiment; however, I will shake it off at once. I will finish this letter of instructions, for it is better for her in any contingency to know exactly how she stands, and then I will get some rest, of which I fancy I am more than usually in need.'
He drew the paper towards him again, and bending over the desk commenced writing earnestly. From time to time he paused in his occupation and stared earnestly before him, as though weighing certain matters in his mind before committing his thoughts to paper. At length, after about ten minutes' work, he came to the end of his task; and, having folded the letter, placed it into an envelope, and was about to return it to the drawer, when he suddenly stopped.
'No,' he muttered; 'in her present state of mind it is best to be prudent over such a matter as this. I will not leave it behind for her and tell her where it is; I will not give it to her myself, for she is but a woman, and her woman's curiosity might impel her to open it at once, and that would certainly impose a scene between us; I will send it to her to-morrow by Warren. Helen will not come down to the wharf; Warren is sure to be there to see me off, and I will send the letter to her by him. I have only him to trust to for seeing after her while I am away, and this little commission will break the ice between them, and show her to him--though he has never properly valued her--in colours that must compel him to acknowledge her the perfect wife she is.'
So saying, he sealed the letter and deposited it in his pocket-book, after restoring which to his breast he continued his musing.
'What a wonderful stroke of luck for me, situated as I am, to have made such a friend as Trenton Warren! He will be indispensable to Helen, and to me as the means of communication with her. I must get all her letters through him, for I could never make her simple heart and unbusiness-like head comprehend the necessity for my taking a false name in England. She would be frightened at the mere idea, and she must never know it. This necessity alone would oblige me to endeavour to establish thoroughly good relations between Helen and Trenton Warren before I sail to-morrow.'