“That is my story. You can imagine the gradual calming of our minds, as we recognised our real guiltlessness. You can understand why, to escape questions, we seemed not to know each other. We learnt in our daily meetings here that we need not shrink from a new friendship, and then, by a chance confidence at the picnic, that our love was unchanged.
“And now, Paulding, forgive this unwilling reticence of mine. You know what was this old wound. I fear the worst. But that we will not speak of.”
“It is a wide world, Harry,” said Paulding. “There is room in it for many exiles. I shall find my home for wandering—somewhere—anywhere.”
The moon sank away drearily, leaving a ghastly paleness in the west. And the melancholy breakers, in darkness now, went on falling, hesitating, lifting, falling on the black rocks, counting the measures of a desolate eternity.
CHAPTER XXII
IN WHICH MR. BELDEN REACHES THE END
OF HIS ROPE
WHEN Mr. Waddy rang his bell in the morning after the stable scene, no Chin Chin appeared, and inquiry developed the fact that Chin Chin was sick. Ira’s toilet may, therefore, not have been quite so accurate as usual, and the polish on his neat calfskins not so mirrorlike. In fact, he had too many anxieties crowding around, to concern himself much with cravat ties and the gleaming boot. He sent his groom, a Bowery boy, pur sang, to care for Chin Chin.
“He ain’t dangerous, sir,” that worthy returned to report, “but he’s been a-gulpin’ down suthin’ as has kicked up a bobbery in his innards.”
“Very well,” said Mr. Waddy; “have Pallid ready for eleven o’clock. How does he look this morning?”