The Love That Prevailed

by Frank Frankfort Moore

“Howsoever his powers be derived,” replied Wesley, “the lesson that we must learn from his case is that we cannot be too careful in choosing our associates. For myself, I have already said that I mistrusted him from the first, as I should any man practising with a divining rod.”

“We should have done so, too, sir, only that we had become so accustomed to his water-finding, it seemed as natural to send for him when sinking a well as it was to send for the mason to build the wall round it when the water was found.”

This was all that they said at that time touching the remarkable incidents of the week. Both of them seemed to regard the case of Pritchard as closed, although they were only in the morning of the day which the man had named in his prediction. Mr. Hartwell even assumed that his guest would be anxious to set out on his return to the west before noon, and he was gratified when Wesley asked for leave to stay on for a day or two yet.

Wesley spent an hour or two over his correspondence, and all the time the matter which he had at heart caused him to lay down his pen and lie back in his chair, thinking, not upon the subject of his letters, but upon the question of approaching Nelly Polwhele, and upon the question of the letter which he would have to write to his brother when he had seen the girl; for whether she accepted him or refused him, he felt that it was his duty to inform his brother as to what had occurred.

The result of his meditations was as might have been expected. When a man who is no longer young gives himself up to consider the advisability of offering marriage to a young woman with whom he has not been in communication for much more than a month, he usually procrastinates in regard to the deciding scene. Wesley felt that perhaps he had been too hasty in coming to the conclusion that a marriage with Nelly would bring happiness to them both. Only a few hours had elapsed since he had, as he thought, made up his mind that he loved her. Should he not refrain from acting on such an impulse? What would be the consequence if he were to ask the young woman to be his wife and find out after a time that he should not have been so sure of himself? Surely so serious a step as he was contemplating should be taken with the utmost deliberation. He should put himself to the test. Although he had been looking forward to seeing the girl this day, he would not see her until the next day—nay, he was not confident that he might not perceive that his duty lay in waiting for several days before approaching her with his offer.

That was why, when he left the house to take the air, he walked, not in the direction of the village, where he should run the best chance of meeting her, but toward the cliffs, which were usually deserted on week days, except by the Squire's grooms, who exercised the horses in their charge upon the fine dry sand that formed a large plateau between the pathway and the struggling trees on the outskirts of Court Park.

He went musing along the cliff way, thinking of the contrast between this day and the previous one—of the contrast between those sparkling waves that tossed over each other in lazy play, and the slime and ooze which had lain bare and horrid with their suggestions of destruction and disaster. It was a day such as one could scarcely have dreamt of following so sinister a sunset as he had watched from this place. It was a day that made him glad that he had not uttered a harsh word in rebuke of the man who had troubled him—indeed he felt most kindly disposed toward Pritchard; he was certainly ready to forgive him for having been the means of bringing him, Wesley, back to this neighbourhood.

He wondered if it had not been for Pritchard, would he have returned to Ruthallion and Porthawn. Was the affection for Nelly, of which he had become conscious during his journeying in the west, strong enough at that time to carry him back to Porthawn, or had it matured only since he had come back to her?

He wondered and mused, strolling along the path above the blue Cornish waters. Once as he stood for a while, his eyes looked longingly in the direction of the little port. He felt impatient for more than a few moments—impatient that he should be so strict a disciplinarian in regard to himself. It was with a sigh he turned away from where the roofs of the nearest houses could just be seen, and resumed his stroll with unfaltering feet. He had made his resolution and he would keep to it.

But he did not get further than that little dip in the cliffs where he had once slept and awakened to find Nelly Polwhele standing beside him. The spot had a pleasant memory for him. He remembered how he had been weary when he had lain down there, and how he had risen up refreshed.