"Put your arm about him," she said to the Judge. "For me, please."
"For you," he said, and suffered her to put his arm on Howard's shoulder. She raised his other arm, and now he stood with both arms about the boy's neck.
"Good-bye, father," said Howard.
For a moment the old man's countenance was aglow with the light of love and sympathy; convulsively he pressed Howard to his bosom—but a horror seemed to seize him, the light of sympathy went out as if blown by a cold wind, and, stepping back, he said:
"There. Go. Not another word. Why do you continue to stand there gazing at me? Rachel, can't you take him away? I have told him good-bye to please you—now, why don't you oblige me by taking him away?"
"But, dear, have you no word for him?"
"Word, yes. Good-bye."
"No word of advice?"
"Advice! Don't mock me. Go away, please. Can't you see—no, you cannot, and why should I expect it? Now go."
"We are going," she said.