‘I shall never again have such an opportunity, dear Amy,’ he said; ‘not at least for a long time, so I had better do all I can now.’ There was much sadness in his tone.
‘What do you mean by that? this is the second time I have heard you say it,’ she replied anxiously; ‘you surely cannot be going to leave us again; the regiment has only been here two months, and—tell me, I beseech you, Herbert,’ she continued as he looked up from the drawing, and distress was very visible upon his countenance; ‘tell me what you have to say. Why do you look so sad?’
‘Because, dear Amy, I have news which will pain you,—that is, I think it will,—for we have ever been so linked together: you have guessed the truth,—I am indeed to leave,—and that so soon that my own brain is confused by the sudden orders we have received.’
She turned as pale as death, and her lips quivered; all the misery and danger she had ever heard of foreign service rushed at once overwhelmingly into her thoughts. She tried to speak, but could not.
‘It must be told sooner or later,’ he thought, laying down the sketch and drawing towards her; he continued, though with much difficulty in preserving his composure,—
‘The regiment is ordered upon service, Amy, and after many thoughts I find I have no alternative but to accompany it. We march for Dover in a few days; the transports, we hear, will meet us there; and after we have embarked, the convoy fleet for India will join us at Portsmouth or Plymouth.’
‘For India!’ were the only words the poor girl could utter, as she sunk helpless and fainting upon the seat.
CHAPTER X.
‘Amy, dear Amy!’ cried the young man, agonised by her bitter sobs, which ceased not, though he had raised her up, and supporting her hardly-sensible form strove to console her, but in vain. ‘Amy, speak to me! one word, only one word, and you will be better: call me by my name—anything—only do not look so utterly wretched, nor sob so bitterly. God knows I have enough to bear in leaving you so suddenly, but this misery is worst of all. Dear Amy, look up! say that you will try to conquer this, and I shall have the less to reproach myself with for having told you of so much.’ But she spoke not; she could not utter one word for the choking sensation in her throat. She passed her hand over it often, tried in vain to swallow, and gasped in the attempt.