she would suffer; but he must escape. Loving him as deeply, as devotedly as ever, she yet would give him up, rather than that he should share in the downfall of her house. Ah! she did not know him. She could be great; but so also could he. Charlotte should see that her love was no light thing for any man to relinquish: she would find that it weighed heavier in the balance than riches, than fame; that disgrace even could not crush it down. Knowing all, he would go to her; she should not be alone in her great, great trouble; she should find out in her hour of need the kind of man whose heart she had won. His depression left him as he came to this resolve, and he scarcely spent even an anxious night. On the next day, however, he did not go to Charlotte; but about noon he sat down and wrote her the following letter:--

MY DARLING:

You gave me up yesterday. I was--I don't mind telling you this now--stunned, surprised, pained. Since then, however, I have thought much; all my thought has been about you. Thought sometimes leads to light, and light has come to me. Charlotte, a contract entered into by two takes two to undo. I refuse to undo this contract. Charlotte, I refuse to give you up. You are my promised wife; our banns have been read twice in church already. Have you forgotten this? In the eyes of both G.o.d and man you are almost mine. To break off this engagement, unless I, too, wished it, would be, whatever your motive, a _sin_. Charlotte, the time has come, when we may ruin all the happiness of both our lives, unless very plain words pa.s.s between us. I use very plain words when I tell you that I most absolutely refuse to give you up. That being so, _whatever_ your motive, you are committing a sin in refusing to give yourself to me. My darling, it is you I want, not your money--you--not--not--But I will add no more, except one thing.

Charlotte, I went this morning to Somerset House, and I _read your grandfather's will_.

Now, what hour shall I come to you? Any hour you name I will fly to you. It is impossible for you to refuse what I demand as a right. But know that, if you do refuse, I will come notwithstanding.

Yours ever, JOHN HINTON.

This letter, being directed, was quickly posted, and in due time reached its address at Prince's Gate.

Then a strange thing happened to it. Jasper Harman, pa.s.sing through the hall, saw the solitary letter waiting for his niece. It was his habit to examine every letter that came within his reach; he took up this one for no particular reason, but simply from the force of this long established habit. But having taken it in his hand, he knew the writing. The letter was from Hinton, and Charlotte had told him--had just told him--that her engagement with Hinton was broken off, that her wedding was not to be. Old Jasper was beset just now by a thousand fears, and Charlotte's manner and Charlotte's words had considerably added to his alarm. There was a mystery; Charlotte could not deny that fact. This letter might elucidate it--might throw light where so much was needed. Jasper Harman felt that the contents of Hinton's letter might do him good and ease his mind. Without giving himself an instant's time for reflection, he took the letter into the dining-room, and, opening it, read what was meant for another. He had scarcely done so before Charlotte unexpectedly entered the room. To save himself from discovery, when he heard her step, he dropped the letter into the fire.

Thus Charlotte never got her lover's letter.

Hinton, bravely as he had spoken, was, nevertheless, pained at her silence. After waiting for twenty-four hours he, however, resolved to be true to his word. He had said to Charlotte, "If you refuse what I demand as a right, nevertheless I shall exercise my right. I will come to you."

But he went with a strange sinking of heart, and when he got to Prince's Gate and was not admitted he scarcely felt surprised.

CHAPTER XLVI.

"THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS."

It is one of those everlasting truths, which experience and life teach us every day, that sin brings its own punishment, virtue its own reward: peace, the great divine reward of conscience to the virtuous; misery and despair, and that constant apprehension which dreads discovery, and yet which in itself is worse than discovery, to the transgressors.

"The way of transgressors is hard."

That Bible text was proving itself once more now in the cases of two old men. John Harman was sinking into his grave in anguish at the thought of facing an angry G.o.d: Jasper Harman was preparing to fly from what, alas!

he dreaded more, the faces of his angry fellow-creatures.

Yes; it had come to this with Jasper Harman; England had become too hot to hold him; better fly while he could. Ever since the day Hinton had told him that he had really and in truth heard of the safe arrival of the other trustee, Jasper's days and nights had been like h.e.l.l to him.

In the morning, he had wondered would the evening find him still a free man; in the evening, he had trembled at what might befall him before the morning dawned. Unaccustomed to any mental anguish, his health began to give way; his heart beat irregularly, unevenly, he lost his appet.i.te; at night he either had bad dreams or he could not sleep. This change began to tell upon his appearance; his hair grew thinner and whiter, he stooped as he walked, there was very little apparent difference now between him and John.

He could not bear the Harmans' house, for there he might meet Hinton. He dreaded his office in the City, for there the other trustee might follow him and publicly expose him. He liked his club best; but even there he felt scarcely safe, some one might get an inkling of the tale, there was no saying how soon such a story, so strange, so disgraceful, pertaining to so well-known a house as that of Harman Brothers, might get bruited about. Thus it came to pa.s.s that there was no place where this wretched old man felt safe; it became more and more clear to him day by day that England was too hot to hold him. All these growing feelings culminated in a sudden accession of terror on the day that Charlotte, with her strangely changed face, had asked him the truth with regard to her father's case, when, with the persistence of almost despair, she had insisted on knowing the very worst; then had quickly followed the announcement that her marriage had been broken off by herself; that it was postponed, her father thought, simply for the short remaining span of his own life; but Charlotte had taken little pains to conceal from Uncle Jasper that she now never meant to marry Hinton. What was the reason of it all? Jasper Harman, too, as well as Hinton, was not deceived by the reason given. There was something more behind. What was that something more?

In his terror and perplexity, Jasper opened Hinton's letter. One sentence in that letter, never meant for him, burnt into the unhappy man as the very fire of h.e.l.l.

"I went this morning to Somerset House, and I read your grandfather's will."

Then Jasper's worst fears had come true; the discovery was made; the hidden sin brought to the light, the sinners would be dragged any moment to punishment.

Jasper must leave England that very night. Never again could he enter his brother's house. He must fly; he must fly at once and in secret, for it would never do to take any one into his confidence. Jasper Harman had a hard and evil heart; he was naturally cold and unloving; but he had one affection, he did care for his brother. In mortal terror as he was, he could not leave that dying brother without bidding him good-bye.

John Harman had not gone to the City that day, and when Charlotte left the room, Jasper, first glancing at the grate to make sure that Hinton's letter was all reduced to ashes, stole, in his usual soft and gliding fashion, to John's study. He was pleased to see his brother there, and alone.

"You are early back from the City, Jasper," said the elder brother.

"Yes; there was nothing to keep me this afternoon, so I did not stay."

The two old men exchanged a few more commonplaces. They were now standing by the hearth. Suddenly John Harman, uttering a half-suppressed groan, resumed his seat.

"It is odd," he said, "how the insidious something which men call Death seems to grow nearer to me day by day. Now, as we stood together, I felt just a touch of the cold hand; the touch was but a feather weight, but any instant it will come down like a giant on its prey. It is terrible to stand as I do, looking into the face of Death; I mean it is terrible for one like me."

"You are getting morbid, John," said Jasper; "you always were given to look on the dismals. If you must die, as I suppose and fear you must, why don't you rouse yourself and enjoy life while you may?"

To this John Harman made no answer. After a moment or two of silence, during which Jasper watched him nervously, he said;--

"As you have come back so early from the City, can you give me two hours now? I have a great deal I want to say to you."

"About the past?" questioned Jasper.

"About the past."

Jasper Harman paused and hesitated; he knew well that he should never see his brother again; that this was his last request. But dare he stay?

Two hours were very precious, and the avenger might even now be at the door. No; he could not waste time so precious in listening to an old, old tale.

"Will two hours this evening do equally well, John?"

"Yes, if you prefer it. I generally give the evening to Charlotte; but this evening, if it suits you better."

"I will go now, then," said Jasper.

"Charlotte has told you of her resolve?"

"Yes, and I have spoken to her; but she is an obstinate minx."

"Do not call her so; it is because of her love for me. I am sorry that she will not marry at once; but it is not, after all, a long postponement and it is I own, a relief, not to have to conceal my state of health from her."

"It is useless arguing with a woman," said Jasper. "Well, good-bye, John."

"Good-bye," said the elder Harman, in some surprise that Jasper's hand was held out to him.

Jasper's keen eyes looked hard into John's for a moment. He wrung the thin hand and left the room. He had left for ever the one human being he loved, and even in his throat was a lump caused by something else than fear. But in the street and well outside that luxurious home, his love sank out of sight and his fear returned; he must get out of England that very night, and he had much to do.

He pulled out his watch. Yes, there was still time. Hailing a pa.s.sing hansom he jumped into it, and drove to his bank. There, to the astonishment of the cashier, he drew all the money he kept there. This amounted to some thousands. Jasper b.u.t.toned the precious notes into a pocket-book. Then he went to his lodgings and began the task of tearing up letters and papers which he feared might betray him. Hitherto, all through his life he had kept these things precious; but now they all went, even to his mother's portrait and the few letters she had written to him when a boy at school. Even he sighed as he cast these treasures into the fire and watched them being reduced to ashes; but though they had gone with him from place to place in Australia, and he had hoped never to part from them, he must give them up now, for, innocent as they looked, they might appeal against him. He must give up all the past, name and all, for was he not flying from the avengers? flying because of his sin? Oh! surely the way of transgressors was hard!

CHAPTER XLVII.

CHARLOTTE HARMAN'S COMFORT.

Jasper Harman did not come to his brother's house that night, but about the time he might be expected to arrive there came a note from him instead. It was plausibly written, and gave a plausible excuse for his absence. He told John of sudden tidings with regard to some foreign business. These tidings were really true. Jasper said that a confidential clerk had gone to the foreign port where they dealt to inquire into this special matter, but that he thought it best, as the stakes at issue were large, to go also himself, to inquire personally.

He would not be long away, &c. &c. He would write when to expect his return. It was a letter so cleverly put together, as to cause no alarm to any one. John Harman read it, folded it up, and told Charlotte that they need not expect Jasper in Prince's Gate for at least a week. The week pa.s.sed, and though Jasper had neither come nor written, there was no anxiety felt on his account. In the mean time affairs had outwardly calmed down in Prince's Gate. The agitation, which had been felt even by the humblest servant in the establishment had ceased. Everything had returned to its accustomed groove. The nine days' wonder of that put off wedding had ceased to be a wonder. It still, it is true, gave zest to conversation in the servants' hall, but upstairs it was never mentioned.