Gurth Egerton fetched a deep breath. He had punished himself all these years for his evil passions. He had fled when no man pursued. God had marked out his penalty, and he had had to bear it.
And Marston had used this mare’s nest to frighten him with. Marston believed it true, and had triumphed over him. Ah, now the tables were turned. He was safe, and Marston was still at his mercy.
Edward Marston went to the Waterloo terminus and waited for the first train that would take him down home.
The first train left at six, and he walked about until it started. He was anxious to go down at once, and relieve his poor Ruth’s suspense. He had gained a week’s respite, and removed a dangerous enemy from his path. He would send Gertie up to the dying man at once. Gertie might plead with him for longer grace still for those who had been so good to her. At any rate, while things were as they were, it would be as well that the girl should be out of the way.
Hope was strong in his breast that morning as he took his seat in the train. During one short night a change—a great change—had taken place. He had faced his enemy and conquered him, and diplomacy might easily accomplish the rest.
He would give up everything willingly, if need be. All he asked was to get away with Ruth somewhere where he could live quietly and end his days in making his peace with God.
Oh, if he came through this crisis, how earnestly, how truly, he would repent! He leaned back in the carriage, as the train rushed on through the early morning, and thought of the poor heartbroken woman at home, whose love for him had been so good and pure and noble, and his eyes filled with tears.
He pictured her at home, hoping and praying through the weary watches of the night for his safety. He could see her cheeks flush with joy as she heard his step upon the walk, and knew that he had come back to her safe from the jaws of his deadly peril.
He pictured her hiding her head upon his guilty breast, and thanking the good God who had restored him to her once again, and then he forgot everything, save a sensation of horrible anguish, he heard a crash, the shrieks of men and women, he felt a terrible blow and the hot blood trickling down his face, sharp pain shot across his chest, and he knew no more till he found himself lying in a strange place, where he could not say, and he had a dull, dim sense of voices round him buzzing and humming like innumerable bees.