George A. Lawrence

“ Guy had risen, and stood still, with his head bent down on his breast. For the first time in his life he was unable to raise his eyes, weighed down by the heavy sense of bitter disgrace and forfeited honor.
But the bright flush on Flora's cheek spoke more of exultation than of shame; the bouquet which she raised to her lips only half concealed a smile of triumph. She wreathed her slender neck haughtily while she met her rival's glance without flinching. She thought that, if she had played for a heavy stake—no less than the jeopardy of her fair fame—this time, at least, the game was her own. ”

“ Poor Isabel Forrester was quite broken down by this second blow. Next to her dead husband, I believe, she loved Guy better than any one; not unnaturally, for he had petted and protected her all her life long. She could not help giving way, though she tried hard, for the sake of others. It was piteous to see her, sitting alone for hours, gazing out on the bleak winter landscape, while the tears welled slowly from under her heavy eyelids.
Foster, who was still at Kerton, came often to visit Livingstone. No one could do him so much good. ”

“ It is not only ghosts that walk. Men, as powerless to retrieve the past as if they were already disembodied spirits, will haunt the scenes and sepulchres of their lost happiness even before they die. Though the world was all before them where to choose, I doubt not that the exiles from Paradise lingered long just without the sweep of the flaming sword.
Two rooms in the house were lighted, one with the faint glimmer peculiar to the shaded lamp of a sick-room. Guy's pulse bounded wildly at first, and then grew dull and still. In that room he knew Constance lay dying. ”

“ I can't bear to think of what her life would be if she married Bruce. He would be constantly retaliating on her for what he is suffering now—for he does suffer. A pleasant idea that she, who is only meant to be petted, should be set up as a target for his jealousy and ill-humor! She would never be able to stand it, and Charley wouldn't if she could; and then there would be a dénouement like that which ruined Ralph Mohun. If there is to be a row, it had better come before than after marriage. It's more moral, and saves an infinity of trouble. I think Charley is better away, too, just now. ”

“ Tho sick man lay back for some moments with his eyes closed, panting and evidently quite exhausted. When he opened his eyes there was a steadiness in them which surprised us. He spoke, too, quite calmly. "I do not mean to deny any thing, nor to resist, even if I could. I am tired of running away; it is as well over; but I was taken by surprise at first. Guy Livingstone, do you choose to listen to me for five minutes? My head is clear now. I do not know how long it will last; but I do know that, after to-night, I will never speak about Forrester's death one word." ”

“ One of his old tastes clings to him still—a very simple one. He has forgotten the savor of Sciote and Chian wine; but—were it only for the sake of the carouses they have had together—Odysseus will not grudge him another draught out of the black trench. It is so long since be tasted blood!
Guy was no more like his former self than the shadow was like the substance of Pelides. He was not languid, but simply apathetic and indifferent, so that one could not help being constantly struck by the contrast between his moral and physical state: the latter was still the perfection of muscular power. ”

“ If possible, she looked handsomer than ever as she swept by at a sharp canter, sitting square and firmly, but yielding just enough to the stride of the horse—perfectly erect, but inimitably lithe and graceful.
Nothing in her demeanor betrayed the faintest shade of emotion; but I remembered the old maxim of the fencing-school—"Watch your enemy's eyes, not his blade;" and I caught Flora's, as she raised her head after returning our salutation, before she had time to discipline them thoroughly. I saw them glitter with defiant hatred as they lighted on her rival. ”

“ Then the conversation became general, revolving in a circle of hound-and-horse talk, as it will do now and then in the shires.
"Guy," whispered Forrester, as we went up stairs, "there's a little woman here who says she used to know you very well: won't you go and talk to her?"
"Many little women say that," answered Guy; "it's a way they have. Which is it, now?"
Charley pointed out a small, plump, rather pretty blonde, with long ringlets, and light, laughing blue eyes. It seemed the lady's reminiscences were well founded, for in five minutes Livingstone and she were talking like old friends. ”

“ That one injunction—"Forgive, as you would hope to be forgiven"—was ever a stumbling-block to Guy.
Besides all this, he knew, better than any one, what sort of an adversary he was contending against; one with whom each step in negotiation or temporizing was a step toward discomfiture. It was like the Spaniard with his navaja against the sabre: your only chance is keeping him steadily at the sword's-point, without breaking ground; if he once gets under your guard, not all the saints in the calendar can save you. ”

“ His daughter was his absolute contrast—a lovely, delicate little creature, with silky dark-brown hair, and eyes en suite, and color that deepened and faded twenty times in an hour, without ever losing the softness of its tints. She had the ways of a child petted all its life through, that a harsh word would frighten to annihilation. She seemed very fond of Guy, though evidently rather afraid of him at times. ”

“ Guy was a few paces in front, when suddenly there broke from his lips such a sound as I have never heard from those of any mortal before or since.
It is impossible to describe it. It was utterly involuntary, as if some spirit had spoken within the man—a cry of horror and of unspeakable wrath, such as might have burst from the chest of one of the Old-World giants, when the rock fell from heaven that crushed him like a worm. The Italians, used to every tone that can express passion, shrunk and cowered back in terror. ”

“ The philosophical and poetical mourners hardly suffered much more than Guy did during those months, and for long after too, though he was always quite silent on the subject, and would speak cheerfully on others now and then, and though, from the day that he parted with Constance to that of his own death, his eyes were as dry as the skies over the Delta. He used to lie for hours in that state of utter listlessness which gives a reality to the sad old Eastern proverb, "Man is better sitting than standing, lying down than sitting, dead than lying down." ”

“ Cyril Brandon's features were small and finely cut, like his sister's; but there the resemblance ended. His complexion, naturally sallow, had been burnt three shades deeper by the Indian sun. His fierce black eyes, and thin lips, that seemed always ready to curl or quiver, made the contrast with Constance very striking.
Livingstone drew back into the farthest shadow of the garden trees. He knew how much reason Cyril had for hating him above all living men, and he did not wish to risk a meeting. Mohun's warning shot across his mind, and he felt it was rightly founded. ”

“ The Frenchwoman's first impulse had been to be hysterical and helpless; it was only her terror of Guy prevailing over all others that made her, as she was, very useful.
He went to the door for an instant, and looked at Isabel. Dreamland was kinder and pleasanter to her than real life, poor child, for there was a smile on her lips that, when she was waking, would be long in visiting them. How would ships or men ever last out if there were not some harbors of refuge to rest in before going out into the wild weather again? ”

“ Distinctly and lividly marked on the waxen flesh were the five fingers of a man's open hand.
"Do you think that was a brigand's work?" he went on, his gripe tightening till I could scarcely bear the pain. "They always strike with a weapon or with the clenched fist. Shall I tell you whose mark that is? Bruce's. If he did not murder him himself, he struck him after he was dead."
"Impossible," I said; "how could he? He has never—"
Livingstone cast my arm loose somewhat impatiently. "We shall know all some day," he growled, his whole face black with passion. ”

“ In all the world there is but one object on which she can cast so ghastly a reflection—a dead man's face.
Guy recovered himself first, and plunged recklessly down the cliff side. When we reached him, he was supporting on his knee the head of poor Charley Forrester, stone dead, and foully murdered.
The first glance told how unavailing all human aid must be. One small deep wound just above the left temple must have been fatal instantly. Close by his side lay the instrument of the slaughter—a thin, triangular piece of granite—and, ten paces off, his pistol, one barrel discharged. ”

“ When I recovered I saw dimly the group of men, awe-stricken and whispering, and Guy still gazing down at the face that rested on his knee, as if it fascinated his eyes. I could not bear to look upon the piteous sight. All through the bright hair the dark blood had soaked, and a slow stream was stealing through it still; the fair features were all defaced and deformed with the wrath and agony of the last mortal struggle. ”

“ But the mourner strewed no flowers on the grave. It would have been too bitter a mockery; for, if there were sympathy in sweet roses and pure white lilies, on no other spot of God's earth would they have withered so soon: she hung up no wreath of immortelles; for, if such things could be, the dearest wish one could have formed for the dead man's soul would have been swift, utter annihilation.
Yet Fanny Challoner would scarcely have accepted Mohun's good offices if she had guessed that the blood of her seducer and tyrant was on his hand. ”

“ Constance hesitated; then she spoke rapidly, as if afraid to pause when she had once made up her mind. The lovely color came and flickered for a moment on her cheek, and then went out again as suddenly.
"I know it is easier for me to submit than for you, yet it is very hard to be obliged to leave you, Guy; it is harder still to leave you to Flora Bellasys. I hope my jealousy—I am jealous—does not make me unjust; but I don't think she will make you better, or even happier in the end. ”

“ We had sent on before to warn the village doctor, and he visited Guy alone in his room.
Powell had been a surgeon's mate in his youth, and was serving under Collingwood at Trafalgar when his ship stood first into action, and, like a sovereign of the old days, led the van of the battle. There was no shape of shattered and maimed humanity with which he had not been familiar, and my last hope died away when I saw him come forth, trembling all over, his rugged features convulsed with grief.
"I saw him born," the old man sobbed out. "I never thought to see him die—and die so!" ”

“ Samuel Foster was helplessly smitten by Miss Raymond, or, as Forrester elegantly expressed it, "hard hit in the wings, and crippled for flying!" Helplessly, I say, but not hopelessly; for that wicked little creature, acting perhaps under private orders, gave him all sorts of treacherous encouragement. I never saw any human being evolve so much caloric under excitement as he did, except one young woman whom I met ages ago— (a most estimable person; her Sunday-school was a model) —whose only way of evincing any emotion, either of anger, fear, pain, or pleasure, was—a profuse perspiration. ”

“ But, mind, I won't allow any one to frighten or vex my pet cousin." His countenance lowered as he spoke, and there was a threat in his eyes.
As the cloud darkened on his face, the light came back on Isabel Raymond's. She took his hand—all fibre and sinew, like an oak-bough—into her slender fingers and pressed it hard. In good truth, a woman at her need could ask no better defender than he who stood by her side then, tall, strong, black-browed, and terrible as Saul. "Thank you so much, dear Guy," she whispered. "If you speak to Mr. Foster, you will tell him how very sorry I am!" ”

“ Godfrey Parndon was doing the civil to the "great men in Israel," his heaviest subscribers; pinks were gleaming in every direction through the clumps and belts of plantation, as the men came up at a hard gallop on their cover-hacks, or opened the pipes of their hunters by a stretch over the turf of the park.
On the hall steps stood Flora Bellasys—Penthesilea in a wide-awake and plume; a dozen men were round her, striving emulously for a word or a smile, and she held her own gallantly with them all. She was waiting patiently till Guy had lighted an obstinate cigar, and was ready to mount her. ”

“ After it was over, Mohun rose to light a cigar, while his companion took up a pile of letters and began to glance at them listlessly. Suddenly the former dropped the match from his hand, starting in irrepressible astonishment.
He had seen strong men die hard, mangled and shattered by sabre or bullet, but he had never heard a sound so terribly significant of agony as the dull, heavy groan that just then burst from Livingstone's lips. ”

“ This want of dexterity, too, was thrown into strong relief that day; for all the other men, putting myself out of the question, were rare masters of the art.
Livingstone headed the list, though Fallowfield ran him hard. He got the most shots, indeed; for his knowledge of the woods and great strength enabled him always to keep close to the spaniels. He was a sight to marvel at, as he went crashing through bramble and blackthorn with a long even stride, just as if he had been walking through light springs. ”

“ Though we weighed anchor in early morning, it was past noon before we cleared the Bocca di Capri, for there was hardly wind enough to give the Petrel steerage-way. The smoke from our long Turkish pipes mounted almost straight upward, and lingered over our heads in thin blue curls; yet the sullen, discontented heave and roll in the water were growing heavier every hour. The black tufa cliffs crested with shattered masonry—the foundations of the sty where the Boar of Capreæ wallowed—were just on our starboard quarter, when Riddell, the master, came up to Livingstone. ”

“ Isabel was not afraid of him now, but a great awe mingled with her pity.
It is curious, and tells well perhaps for our human nature; neither pride of birth, nor complete success, nor profound wisdom, surrounds a man with such reverence as the being possessed with a great sorrow. At least no one can envy him; and so those who were his enemies once—like the gallant Frenchman when he saw his adversary's empty sleeve—bring their swords to the salute, and pass on. ”

“ There must have been a strange fascination about Livingstone, for, saint as she was, no other living creature would have won such a concession from the Christian charity of Constance Brandon.
Had Guy spoken then, as he ought to have done, I believe all might have been amended; but an angry devil was busy within him, and would not let go his prey; he stood with his black brows downcast, and with folded arms, never seeming to notice the slender fingers that sought to touch his hand. True it is that nothing makes a man so unforgiving as the consciousness of having inflicted a bitter wrong. ”

“ She was in the seventh heaven when he won a hurdle-race in the Champ de Mars.
They made excursions into the banlieue, and farther afield yet, like a couple of the Pays Latin in their first loves. The cabinets of Bercy and St. Cloud knew them; so did the arbors of Asnières, where, in oilskin and vareuse, muster for their Sabbat the ancient mariners of the Seine. Nay, it has been whispered that more than once—close veiled and clinging tightly to her husband's arm—Isabel witnessed at Mabille and the Chaumière the choregraphic triumphs of Frisette, Pomare, and Mogador. ”