And the answer was like the trump of doom to Hawthorne's sore heart.
"The lady and gentleman, sir? Oh, they took the Pennsylvania Limited train to Chicago."
"Are you sure?" cried Robert.
"Oh, yes; I crossed the river with them, and saw them board the train. That is, the man carried her in his arms. She got sick, or fainted, maybe, just beforehand, and he grabbed her up and climbed on with her just as the whistle blew. Oh, they're off, for sure. Is anything wrong?" added the driver, curiously, scenting an elopement.
[CHAPTER XXVII.]
HAWTHORNE CLUNG TO HOPE, IN SPITE OF HIS TROUBLE.
"Has Fate o'erwhelmed thee with some sudden blow?
Let thy tears flow.
But know when storms are past the heavens appear
More pure, more clear;
And hope, when farthest from their shining rays,
For brighter days!"
The curious sleigh-driver got no answer to his question.