"Ceased to wish it! How's that?"
"Through God's mercy, I think."
The words silenced Roland. When anything of this kind was mentioned it turned him into a child, so far as his feelings went; simple as Miss Nelly, was he, and a vast deal more humble-minded.
"Things are being cleared for me so wonderfully, Roland. But for leaving some who are dear to me, the pain would be over."
"I wish I could come across that fiend who wrote the reviews!" was Roland's muttered answer to this. "I wish I could!"
"What?" said Hamish, not catching the words.
"I will say it, then; I don't care," cried impetuous Roland--for no one had ever spoken before Hamish of what was supposed to have caused him the cruel pain. Roland blurted it all out now in his explosive fashion; his own long-suppressed wrath, and what he held in store for the anonymous reviewer, when he should have the good fortune to come across him.
A minute's silence when he ceased, a wild hectic spreading itself into the hollow cheeks--that it should so stir him even yet! Hamish held out his hand, and Roland came across to take it. The good sweet eyes looked into his.
"If ever you do 'come across' him, Roland, say that I forgive," came the low, earnest whisper. "I did think it cruel at the time; well nigh too hard to bear; but, like most other crosses, I seem to see now that it came to me direct from heaven."
"That is good, Hamish! Come!"