‘I will!’ Sir Geoffrey cried eagerly—‘I will! Only show me how; and let me see my brother, if only for a brief moment.’
‘That is well,’ the figure replied with a radiant smile. ‘As for the means, I must leave that to you. But you shall see your brother, if only for a moment.—And now, farewell.’
‘But stay another minute. I’——
The farewell was repeated, coming to the listener’s ears as from afar off, fainter and fainter, as the violet mist rose again, filling the room with a dense fragrant smoke, through which the rigid figure of Le Gautier could be dimly seen erect and motionless.
When the mist cleared away again, the figure of a man grew visible. Perfect, yet intangible, he stood there, muffled in a long cloak, and his features partially hidden by a soft broad-brimmed hat. At this spectacle, Sir Geoffrey’s agitation increased, and great drops stood upon his forehead.
‘It is he—my brother!’ he groaned, starting from his feet; but again the word ‘Beware!’ seemed to be hissed in his ear. ‘My dear brother, do not look at me like that. It was no fault of mine, I swear.’
The figure answered not, but looking the wretched man in the face, pointed down to his feet, where two thin, emaciated children crouched, evidently in the last stage of disease and starvation.
‘What atonement can you make for this?’ was asked in the stern tones the listener knew so well. ‘Man! in the enjoyment of what should, under happier auspices, have been mine, what do you say to this?’ He pointed down to the crouching children again, sternly yet sadly.
‘Anything,’ the baronet exclaimed—‘anything, so that you do not torture me like this! It is no fault of mine. I did not know. But anything in my power I will do, and do gladly.’
‘Well for you that you have spoken thus! You shall complete the work I began in life, and the man called Hector le Gautier shall help you with his aid and counsel.—You have a daughter?’