The strong liquor stirred his cold and stagnant blood, and soon a glow showed itself on his cheeks.
“I needed it,” he thought; “my very heart was getting chilled.”
He rang the bell for his servant, who, when he came, was told to order a supper sent from a restaurant.
“I cannot face a crowd—no, not to-night. I must think and be alone, and sleep if I can.”
So he waited for his solitary repast.
Having partaken of it and dismissed his servant for the night, he turned off the hot and flaring gas, opened the door of his sleeping apartment, that the light might shine from beyond, and, drawing a chair to the large window, pushed back the hanging curtains so the breeze might fan his cheek and brow as he sat in the gloom.
No doubt, the wish to rush forth to where his love lay slumbering the hours away was strong within him; he, however, yielded not to it, but thought:
“Not yet, not yet will I disturb the halo that encircles her. Let the days speed by, and the nights, though but a few, waft their bright and fluttering pinions over us a little longer. I would not startle thee, oh, my darling, in this hour. How careful must I be, as I unfold to her my knowledge.”
Thoughts like these, half-spoken to the midnight air came thick and fast; then others crowded on his brain.
He knew that the Gwinn’s were poor. Money! Was it for the reward—two thousand dollars?—and he must pay it—to her!