He rose and stood among them, his heavy eyes turning to the sad, old face of the grandfather whom he had bereaved of his darling. He held out his hand to him humbly.
"She is gone from us, and I cannot sue for her pardon," he said, wistfully. "But will you not forgive me, sir, for the sorrow my weakness and pride brought upon her and you?"
But old Hugh Glenalvan's kindly blue eyes flashed upon him with a gleam of their youthful fire, and his voice quivered with anger and despair as he replied:
"I will never forgive you unless she should rise from the grave and forgive you too!"
"Ye must forgive as ye would be forgiven," said the gentle, admonitory voice of the man of God.
But the indignant old man shook off his suppliant hand.
"She was his wife, and he discarded and deserted her. There is no forgiveness for such a sin," he said, with fiery scorn, as he turned away.
They went away and left Bertram alone with the wronged and quiet dead.
Gertrude, in her gentle, womanly pity would fain have persuaded him to go home with them, but he refused to listen.
"Leave me to my lonely vigil here," he said, sorrowfully. "If her gentle spirit is yet hovering about she may accept my bitter grief and repentance as some atonement."