“I'll give you a dollar for it.”
“Jimminy! You must want it pretty bad.”
“Well, will you part with it for a dollar?”
The boy reflected; wrestled with temptation for an instant; in the end said: “Well, sir, all is, you'll have to sign me another; that's all, sir. Let's have the dollar.” He produced a duplicate bit of pink paper, upon which Elias executed the only forgery of which he was ever guilty. Then a bright silver dollar changed hands. Our hero pocketed his invaluable purchase, and set his face toward Central Park.
XXI.
BACK and forth, among the pine-trees that had been witnesses of the happiest moments of his life; over the carpet of frozen pine-needles, every inch of which was holy ground to him, because her foot had trodden it in the past; through the intense cold and stillness; Elias marched, waiting for her to come. Harder than ever was the frost that bound and benumbed his senses; but in his heart, there was the heat of battle. Hope and doubt struggled together there, in mortal combat.
At one instant, doubt getting the upper hand, he would cry: “Will she come? No, God help me, it is most unlikely. I may as well make up my mind to it. She will not come.”
Next instant, hope inflaming him: “She will come. I know she will. She has a kind and tender heart. She can't find it in her to refuse. She will come; and she will let me tell her how I love her, and how I have suffered; and she will soften toward me, and forgive me. And perhaps her love for me will come back—and overpower her—and make her forget every thing else—and then—she—perhaps—oh, merciful God! if—if she should consent!”