"Yes," continued Ellen, "you will not refuse my prayer! This very day will I seek a comfortable abode—in the northern part of Islington, if possible—so that I may soon be with you every day. For I am possessed of ample resources to accomplish all that I propose; and you know, dearest husband, that every thing which I can call my own is lawfully yours. You smile—oh! now I thank you, because you listen to me with attention; and I thank God also, because he has at length directed your heart towards me, who am your wife, and who will ever, ever love you—dearly love you!"
"Ellen," murmured Greenwood, pressing her hand to his lips, "I should be a monster were I to refuse you any thing which you now demand of me; and, oh! believe me—I am not so bad as that!"
Sweet Ellen, thou hast conquered the obduracy of that heart which was so long the abode of selfishness and pride;—thou hast subdued the stubborn soul of that haughty and ambitious man:—thine amiability has triumphed over his worldliness;—and thou hast thy crowning reward in the tears which now moisten his pillow, and in the affectionate glances which are upturned towards thee!
And Ellen departed from the hospital where her angelic influence had wrought so marvellous a change,—departed with a bosom cherishing fond hopes and delicious reveries of happiness to come.
In the course of that very day Filippo engaged a house in the northern part of Islington; and Ellen superintended, with a joyful heart, the preparations that were made during the ensuing week to render the dwelling as comfortable as possible.
At length she had the pleasure,—nay, more than pleasure—the ineffable satisfaction of welcoming her husband to that abode which, if not so splendid nor so spacious as the mansion he had once occupied in Spring Gardens, was at least a most grateful change after the cold and cheerless aspect of a hospital.
CHAPTER CCLVII.
THE REVENGE.
It was about eleven o'clock in the night of the first Saturday of June, that the Resurrection Man—the terrible Anthony Tidkins—issued from the dwelling of Mr. Banks, the undertaker in Globe Lane, Globe Town.
Mr. Banks followed him to the threshold, and, ere he bade him good night, said, as he retained him by the sleeve, "And so you are determined to go back to the old crib?"
"Yes—to be sure I am," returned Tidkins. "I've been looking after that scoundrel Crankey Jem for the last two years, without even being able so much as to hear of him. The Bully Grand has set all his Forty Thieves to work for me; and still not a trace—not a sign of the infernal villain!"