"Follow her! To desperation!"
Again the old man heard the voices. Looking up, he saw the figures hovering in the air, and pointing where she went, down the dark street.
"She loves it!" he exclaimed in agonized entreaty for her. "Chimes! she loves it still!"
"Follow her!" The shadows swept upon the track she had taken like a cloud.
Oh, for something to awaken her! For any sight or sound, or scent, to call up tender recollections in a brain on fire! For any gentle image of the Past, to rise up before her!
"I was her father! I was her father!" cried the old man, stretching out his hands to the dark shadows flying on above. "Have mercy on her, and on me! Where does she go? Turn her back! I was her father!"
But, they only pointed to her, as she hurried on; "To desperation! Learn it from the creature dearest to your heart!"
A hundred voices echoed it. The air was made of breath expended in those words. He seemed to take them in, at every gasp he drew. They were everywhere, and not to be escaped. And still she hurried on; the same light in her eyes.
All at once she stopped.
"Now, turn her back!" exclaimed the old man, tearing his white hair. "My child! Meg! Turn her back! Great Father, turn her back!"