The diagnosis corresponded with Dr. Campbell's; the blind eye might have been saved years ago, but an operation would not have been judicious under the circumstances. Continued sight must depend upon general health.
All their pleasures and hopes buried in one brief day, they turned their backs on Paris and started homeward.
Edward saw Cambia no more; Mrs. Montjoy called alone and said farewell. The next day they sailed from Havre.
In New York Norton met them, grave and embarrassed for once in his life, and assisted in their hurried departure for the far southern home. There was no exchange of views between the two men. The paper Norton had sent was acknowledged; that was all. The subject was too painful for discussion. And so they arrived in Georgia. They mere met by the Montjoy carriage at a little station near the city. It was the 11:20 p. m. train. Gen. Evan was waiting for Edward.
The handshaking over, they rapidly left the station. Evan had secured from the sheriff a temporary exemption from arrest for Edward, but it was understood that he was to remain out of sight.
They arrived within a couple of miles of the Cedars, having only broached commonplace subjects, traveling incidents and the like, when a negro stopped them. In the distance they heard a hound trailing.
"Boss, kin air one er you gentlemen gi' me a match? I los' my light back yonder, and hit's too putty er night ter go back without a possum." Evan drew rein. He was a born sportsman and sympathetic.
"I reckon so," he said; "and—well, I can't," he concluded, having tried all pockets. "Mr. Morgan, have you a match?" Edward had one and one only. He drew all the little articles of his pockets into his hand to find it.
"Now, hold," said the general; "let's light our cigars. If it's to be the last chance." The negro touched the blazing match to splinters of lightwood, as the southern pitch pine is called when dry, and instantly he stood in a circle of light, his features revealed in every detail. Edward gazed into it curiously. Where had he seen that face? It came back like the lines of some unpleasant dream—the thick lips, the flat nose, the retreating forehead, full eyes and heavy eyelids, and over all a look of infinite stupidity. The negro had fixed his eyes a moment upon the articles in Edward's hand and stepped back quickly. But he recovered himself and with clumsy thanks, holding up his flaming torch, went away, leaving only the uncertain shadows dancing across the road.
At home Gen. Evan threw aside all reserve. He drew their chairs up into the sheltered corner of the porch.