A Galahad of the Creeks; The Widow Lamport

by S. Levett Yeats

"God help you!" he said suddenly, and turning went out of the room. Bunny remained a few moments longer. "I will come back again," he said, "in an hour. It is not good for you to be left alone." He shook Galbraith by the hand, and followed the elder out.

When they had gone, Galbraith rose and wandered round the house. Breakfast was ready. He had not touched it, and at the sight of his face the servant who was waiting stepped silently out of the room. The act was in itself sympathetic, and touched Galbraith. He had packed a bag with a few things, and it was lying half open on his bed. On the wall was a photograph of Halsa. He took it down, and, placing it in the bag, closed it and turned the key. He then went back into his room and waited. He knew what Bunny's absence meant, and he was burning with impatience for his return. On the table before him was a manuscript of his sermons. He seized it with a laugh, and began to turn over its pages. He had poured his heart into them. How had he not laboured? His was the voice that breathed consolation into many a stricken heart, and now that the time had come for him to need help, there was none there to give it. The Book of Books--it was lying there before him, leather bound, with gold-edged leaves--he knew it by heart; there was nothing in that that could help a sorrow like his. Bit by bit he tore the manuscript into shreds, and strewed it about the floor; and when the last scrap of paper had fluttered on to the carpet beside him, he felt that he had broken with the past forever. Faith--had he not faith? But what faith could stand against the cruelty of his trial? And then the remains of his religion burned up within him, and he strove to pray, but the words he uttered with his lips were unmeaning, and he rose from his knees in despair.

It was somewhat late in the afternoon when Bunny returned. Galbraith was ready for him as he came into the house.

"Did you get a passage?" he asked.

"Yes," said Bunny; "you sail with the tide to-night."

They entered a hired conveyance, and Bunny gave directions to drive to the quay. There was not much spoken as they drove through the streets. At length they reached the quay, and Bunny would have entered the boat with Galbraith, but he denied him. "No," he said, "let me go alone."

Bunny regretfully agreed. "You will find a letter from me awaiting you at the Cape," he said as Galbraith shook him warmly by the hand.

"You will not fail to let me know if there is any news of her?"

"No," replied Bunny, "I will not."

Galbraith sprang into the boat, and Bunny watched it as it was rowed toward the great ship lying in the harbour, the blue-peter flying at her mast-head. Slowly the boat moved forward until it entered the broad band-of dazzling light on the waters, where the sun's rays were reflected back in a myriad of flashing colours. Shading his eyes with his hands, Bunny watched the boat until it was absorbed into that marvellous blaze of gold, and passed from his sight.