Bride spent that day mostly alone, and much of it in prayer. Her father, wearied out by the fatigues and excitements of yesterday, kept to his room, and Eustace had gone into Pentreath to see Sir Roland.
It was evening when a message from Abner was brought to the girl to tell her that the operation was over successfully, and that the patient was sleeping quietly under the influence of an opiate.
That evening she and Eustace dined alone together, the Duke preferring to keep still to his room. It was a soft clear evening in May, and the sunlight lay broad and bright upon the sparkling water as they passed out, at Eustace’s suggestion, upon the terrace, and sat there watching the beautiful pageantry of the evening sky. Eustace looked pale and tired, and there was a touch of gentle solicitude in Bride’s manner towards him that sent quick thrills through all his pulses. Those weeks just passed had not been too full of other interests and excitements to blind Eustace to the fact that Bride was still the one woman of all others for him. He had not spoken a single word of love to her all this while, and she gave no sign of remembering what had once passed between them; but the thought of it was strong in his mind to-night, and he was wondering with an intensity of feeling whether he might venture upon expressing some of those many thoughts and hopes which always came crowding upon him in the presence of his cousin when they were alone together.
She had told him all she knew of Saul—they could talk of him, at any rate; and both were keenly interested in the young man, and deeply grieved at the terrible injury he had received.
“If it had been in a good cause, it would have been easier to bear, I think,” she said. “But a street-fight—in the display of brute violence and unmeaning hostility—ah! it makes me so sad even to think of it!”
“I think it was better than that, Bride,” said Eustace. “I think, when Saul sprang at that great pair of plunging horses, he was trying to hinder mischief and hurt for others. I think he was trying to save me, for one, for I was very near. He had been fighting and leading rioters; but I think he fell in the cause of humanity and charity; I think he deliberately sacrificed himself for others.”
Bride’s eyes lightened and glistened.
“Oh, I am glad of that—I am very glad. I must tell Abner.”
There was silence for a few minutes between them, and then Eustace said in a low voice—
“Bride, you will let me know how it goes with him, and what sort of a recovery he makes. Your father is not very likely to mention it in his letters; but will you write now and then yourself, and tell me how it fares with Saul?”