“Wait!” he said, “and I'll tell you all. Jackson got hold of my father last night and made him drink—”
“We know it; but Harry! Oh, where's Harry?”
“Harry heard of it, and told me; and we went to seek him, he one way, I another. It was not till about two hours ago, I heard that father had not long left the Plough, in James-street, and that Harry had been there directly afterward, and gone in pursuit of him; so, being very anxious, I thought I would come on here to see if he was arrived.” And here the poor boy's sobs choked his utterance.
“And has any thing happened to my father!” said Esther.
“When I got near the Mill-dam,” continued George, “I saw two or three of the millers looking into the water—”
“My poor father! He's drowned!” said Esther, clasping her hands.
“Yes,” said George, hesitating; “whether he was seized with delirium, or whether remorse got the better of him, and he was ashamed to come home, there's no telling—”
“But where's Harry?” cried the girl; for George hesitated again.
“He must have overtaken my father, and seen the accident—or must have been trying to prevent his throwing himself in the water—for poor Harry—!” And then there was the tramp of more feet below, and another weight was carried through the passage. “I had him brought here, Esther. I knew you'd wish it—and he would have wished it too!”
This was Esther Hammond's wedding-day! Was not this sorrow enough for one poor house?