So they locked hands there—faith and falsehood—truth and treachery—the one, harbouring no thought that was not honest and tender; the other, consistent to the last in her dark, pitiless scheming. Yet the woman's fingers were most cordial in their pressure, and they never shrank or trembled.
It is pleasant to read of the retribution that descended on Brian de Bois-Guilbert, or Sir Aldinger; but poetical justice does not always assert itself so conveniently as in the lists at Templestowe. I wonder how often in the ordeal of battle, honour has gone down before dishonour, to the mocking echo of the herald's cry—"God defend the right!"
Lady Mildred lay back on her sofa with a long sigh of weariness which was not altogether feigned.
"I will not keep you another instant," she whispered. "Go to Helen, and be as happy as you like; you have earned that reward."
Miss Vavasour had been sitting all this while close to her father's side. The chair she had chosen was so low that her head could rest against his hand as it lay on the arm of the vast fauteuil. They had been very quiet, those two, while the conference was proceeding, scarcely venturing to glance twice or thrice furtively in the direction of the dread divan; but their whispered confidences were pleasant enough, if one might judge from Helen's beautiful blushes and the Squire's musical laugh breaking in at intervals, discreetly modulated and subdued. Both gazed anxiously in Alan's face as he drew near, trying to augur from its expression how he had sped. It told no tales; for his brow was smooth and his smile serene, as if there were no such things in this world of ours as doubt, or distrust, or despondency. If he could not hope to clear away all troublesome thorns from the path of the fair girl who had promised that day to trust him, he could at least spare her the pains of anticipation; for her sake as well as his own he was determined to make the most of every hour of sunshine. Without going into particulars then, he succeeded in leaving an impression that Lady Mildred had shown herself more favourable to their wishes than could have been hoped for. Helen went to rest on that eventful night, when childhood ended and her womanhood began, in a flutter of happiness which lasted through her dreams.
"While we live let us live." How is this agreeable maxim to be carried out, if we are always looking forward into the Dark? There is little wisdom in the desperate philosophy which teaches men "to eat and drink for to-morrow they die;" but surely there is reason in taking, while we may, such moderate refreshment as may brace us for the perils and labours that the dawning may bring. Do you suppose that Teucer's galleys clove less swiftly through the Egean because their crews had feasted high in Salamis on the eve of exile? I fancy those grim old sea-dogs at their last home revels—cutting deeper into the mighty chines, and dipping their grizzled beards into the black wine with a keener zest, while the cheery voice, clear and sonorous as if its owner had never known defeat or disaster, rings out
——O fortes pejoraque passi
Mecum sæpe viri, nunc vino pellite curas:
Cras ingens iterabimus æquor.
The torches flare and swirl in the wind that is rising gustily; there is a dull sullen booming outside familiar to the wanderers, for they have heard it ere this when every sinew was strained to keep them clear of breakers on their lee; they were met by dark lowering faces when they sailed in through the harbor-mouth; the populace—taught to call them traitors by the savage old childless king—is now raving for their blood. What matters it all? They catch their leader's eye as he stands up in the midst, erect and dauntless, with the great gold crater in his gripe, and they laugh out loud in defiance; remembering storms they have weathered and foes they have tamed, and perils compared to which these are but child's play. Would their prospects have looked better if they had sat down, with folded hands and covered heads, to complain of mortals and immortals, and miserably to make their moan? Truly I think not. Now—when they cast off their moorings to-morrow—in despite of envious Pallas, we need not fear to wish the exiles "good speed."