The old lady wiped the tears from her eyes as she spoke.
It was now quite dusk; and our hero signified his intention of taking his departure. He confided the morocco case containing Armstrong's letter, to his excellent friend, the banker, and at the same time expressed his deep gratitude for all the kindness he had experienced at the hands of that gentleman and his sister.
"Do not talk thus, my noble boy," ejaculated the old man; "it makes me melancholy—as if I were never to see you more; whereas, I feel convinced that there are many, many happy days in store for us all! Here, Richard—take this pocket-book: it contains bank-notes to some amount. But if you require more, hesitate not to draw upon me for any sum that you need. And now, farewell—and may all good angels watch over you!"
Signora Viviani, on her side, felt as acutely in parting with our hero as if she were separating from a near relative—so much had his amiable qualities, generous disposition, and noble character endeared him alike to the banker and his kind-hearted sister.
And now the door of that hospitable mansion closed behind Richard Markham, who was accompanied by his faithful Morcar.
They pursued their way, the gipsy acting as the guide, through the streets of Pinalla, and passing out of the town by the north-eastern gate, followed the course of the river Usiglio for upwards of two miles and a-half.
The night was clear with the pure lustre of the chaste moon; and the air was mild, though fresh enough to be invigorating.
At length they reached the confines of a forest, into which Morcar plunged, closely followed by his master.
They now continued their way amidst an almost total darkness, so thick was the foliage of the evergreens through the mazes of which they pursued their course.
Presently lights glimmered among the trees; and in a few minutes more, Morcar conducted our hero into a wide open area, where a spacious gipsy-encampment was established.