"No!" said Barnabas, shaking his head. But, as he pressed forward intent on his purpose, restraining hands were upon his arm, and the voice pleaded in his ear:
"God is a just God, young sir—let the man go—leave him to the
Almighty,"
And the hands upon his arm shook him with passionate entreaty. Therefore Barnabas paused and, bowing his head, clasped his throbbing temples between his palms and so, stood a while. When he looked up again, Mr. Chichester was gone, and the Apostle of Peace stood before him, his silver hair shining, his pale face uplifted towards heaven.
"I owe you—my life!" said Barnabas.
"You are alive, young sir, which is good, and your hands are not stained with a villain's blood, which is much better. But, as for me—God pity me!—I came here to-night, meaning to be a self-murderer—oh, God forgive me!"
"But you—asked for—a sign, I think," said Barnabas, "and you—live also. And to-night your pilgrimage ends, in Clemency's loving arms."
"Clemency? My daughter? Oh, sir,—young sir, how may that be? They tell me she is dead."
"Lies!" said Barnabas, "lies! I spoke with her tonight." The Apostle of Peace stood a while with bowed head; when at last he looked up, his cheeks were wet with tears.
"Then, sir," said he, "take me to her. Yet, stay! You are hurt, and, if in my dark hour I doubted God's mercy, I would not be selfish in my happiness—"
"Happiness!" said Barnabas, "yes—every one seems happy—but me."