‘You!’ he exclaimed, wonderingly. ‘You will undertake to do all this? But you have never been used to business in your life, Hannah. How do you propose to take such a burden on your shoulders, and to accomplish it?’
‘My love for you will teach me, Henry,’ she said simply. ‘Besides, do not think I am so presumptuous as to suppose I can do it all by myself. My uncle, Bailey, is an excellent man of business, remember, and our solicitor will help me. The business may be sold something under value, perhaps, but I promise I will consent to nothing rash, and all I shall strive for is to realise the bulk of your money, and transmit it to you in the Argentine, that you may make a home for me and the children there.’
‘But it will be exile for life, Hannah. I shall never be able to show my face in England again, remember.’
‘I only remember that I would rather spend the rest of my life in the desert with you, Henry, than live without you anywhere,’ replied Hannah, with a watery smile.
‘And you can feel thus for me—a murderer!’ said Hindes, wonderingly.
But she laid her hand upon his mouth.
‘I will not let you call yourself by that name, Henry,’ she said. ‘I never think of you as such. I begin to believe, as you have sometimes told me, that it was the effects of an unfortunate accident.’
‘God bless you! God bless you!’ cried the wretched man, bursting into tears, as she took him in her arms and laid his weary head upon her faithful bosom.
They talked over the plan she had suggested a little longer, and then Hannah persuaded him to take some refreshment and to go upstairs to his own room and rest. But, left alone again, all his fears returned. The presence of his wife had a magnetic effect upon him, but, as soon as she had withdrawn, he became a prey to the phantoms raised by his uneasy conscience. He could not rest in his bed, but kept starting up, fancying that he heard voices in the hall, or on the stairs, people inquiring for him, demanding to see and speak with him, forcing their way up to his bedroom, whilst Hannah tried in vain to bar their ingress.
She, on the contrary, though feeling a little nervous and uneasy at the story her husband had brought home, fancied she saw a happier future before them than she had dared to hope for. It was better for them all, she thought, that matters had come to a crisis, and they were compelled to leave the country, where they could never again live in any comfort.