XXIV.
I have omitted to mention that a letter was delivered to me from myson Reginald. It was written in London, almost immediately upon hisarrival there. There were in it about twenty words in relation to thebusiness I had entrusted to him, for the purpose of securing hisabsence; the remaining three and a half pages were filled withrhapsodies upon Mildred. It was Mildred, Mildred, nothing and nobodybut Mildred. She was the light of his life, the hope, the joy of it;nothing else but Mildred was worth living for. Not even I, his oldfather, who never thought, who never would think, any sacrifice toogreat to make for his son's happiness. I did not complain, and I donot; it is the way of things, and we old ones must stand aside, and behumbly grateful that we are allowed to witness the happiness which wehave done our utmost to bring about. Not that this was the case withReginald and myself. The duty devolving upon me was to prevent, not toassist in, the accomplishment of his dearest hopes. How would the ladtake it? Would he look upon me as his enemy? Would he thrust me aside,and rush wildly to a fate I shuddered even to contemplate? Would notthe example before him serve as a warning? I could not say. The more Ithought of the matter the more disturbed I became. Certainly, he couldnot marry Mildred without Carew's consent, and that, I knew, would bewithheld. The true story of her husband's life could not be concealedfrom the knowledge of Mrs. Carew; and knowing it, she would not allowMildred to wed. If necessary, Mildred herself must be told howimpossible it was that she should ever think of marriage, and shewould refuse my son. And Reginald's heart would be broken! Of that Iwas convinced. It would be a blow from which he would never recover.
These were my reflections as I went out into the grounds ofRosemullion to seek Emilius. I had not long or far to seek. Near thecopse in which he was concealed the previous night he suddenlypresented himself.
"I have been looking and waiting for you all day," he said. "Can yourealise the torture I am suffering?"
I did not answer his question, but gave him an account of what I haddone, and then I conveyed Gabriel Carew's message to him.
"To wait till to-morrow!" Emilius exclaimed. "He asks, he implores meto wait till then?"
"I have told you," I said. "It seems to me not unreasonable."
"It seems to you--it seems to you!" he repeated, in petulantexcitement; and the next moment begged my pardon for speaking so tome, who had proved myself his friend. "But you do not know thisfiend--you do not know of what he is capable! You believe what I havetold you of the eternal wrong he has inflicted upon me--a wrong forwhich he can never hope to be forgiven in this world or the next. Youbelieve it, and yet you say he is justified in asking me to wait tillhe has had time to carry out the secret design he has formed toprevent me from obtaining justice! You believe it, and yet you justifyhim! O God in Heaven! Is there, has there ever been, justice on earth?And I am to wait, who have waited for twenty years, who have sufferedunjustly for twenty years! And I am to stand aside while he completeshis work and dashes the cup of happiness from my lips! No! Again andagain, no! This night is my limit. Before it passes I will see Mrs.Carew, and she shall right me. You can tell this to the monster yonderwho has juggled you so successfully."
I endeavoured to argue, to reason with him, but he would not listen tome. So I left him, his last words being that nothing on earth shouldmove him from his resolve.