Are you very sure that some such entire change in your life as your marriage might not end in delivering you from your burden? If such a thing could be, is it wrong to suppose that your wife's good influence over you might be the means of making your marriage a happy one? I must not presume to offer an opinion on such a subject. It is only my gratitude, my true attachment to you that ventures to put the question. Are you conscious of having given this matter--so serious a matter for you--sufficient thought?"
Make your mind easy, reverend sir! Romayne's answer set everything right.
He said: "I have thought of it till I could think no longer. I still believe that sweet woman might control the torment of the voice. But could she deliver me from the remorse perpetually gnawing at my heart? I feel as murderers feel. In taking another man's life--a man who had not even injured me!--I have committed the one unatonable and unpardonable sin. Can any human creature's influence make me forget that? No more of it--no more. Come! Let us take refuge in our books."
Those words touched Penrose in the right place. Now, as I understand his scruples, he felt that he might honorably speak out. His zeal more than balanced his weakness, as you will presently see.
He was loud, he was positive, when I heard him next. "No!" he burst out, "your refuge is not in books, and not in the barren religious forms which call themselves Protestant. Dear master, the peace of mind, which you believe you have lost forever, you will find again in the divine wisdom and compassion of the holy Catholic Church. There is the remedy for all that you suffer! There is the new life that will yet make you a happy man!"
I repeat what he said, so far, merely to satisfy you that we can trust his enthusiasm, when it is once roused. Nothing will discourage, nothing will defeat him now. He spoke with all the eloquence of conviction--using the necessary arguments with a force and feeling which I have rarely heard equaled. Romayne's silence vouched for the effect on him. He is not the man to listen patiently to reasoning which he thinks he can overthrow.
Having heard enough to satisfy me that Penrose had really begun the good work, I quietly slipped out of the waiting-room and left the hotel.
To-day being Sunday, I shall not lose a post if I keep my letter open until to-morrow. I have already sent a note to Penrose, asking him to call on me at his earliest convenience. There may be more news for you before post time.
Monday, 10 A.M..
There is more news. Penrose has just left me.
His first proceeding, of course, was to tell me what I had already discovered for myself. He is modest, as usual, about the prospect of success which awaits him. But he has induced Romayne to suspend his historical studies for a few days, and to devote his attention to the books which we are accustomed to recommend for perusal in such cases as his. This is un questionably a great gain at starting.
But my news is not at an end yet. Romayne is actually playing our game--he has resolved definitely to withdraw himself from the influence of Miss Eyrecourt! In another hour he and Penrose will have left London. Their destination is kept a profound secret. All letters addressed to Romayne are to be sent to his bankers.
The motive for this sudden resolution is directly traceable to Lady Loring.
Her ladyship called at the hotel yesterday evening, and had a private interview with Romayne. Her object, no doubt, was to shake his resolution, and to make him submit himself again to Miss Eyrecourt's fascinations. What means of persuasion she used to effect this purpose is of course unknown to us. Penrose saw Romayne after her ladyship's departure, and describes him as violently agitated. I can quite understand it. His resolution to take refuge in secret flight (it is really nothing less) speaks for itself as to the impression produced on him, and the danger from which, for the time at least, we have escaped.
Yes! I say "for the time at least." Don't let our reverend fathers suppose that the money expended on my private inquiries has been money thrown away. Where these miserable love affairs are concerned, women are daunted by no adverse circumstances and warned by no defeat. Romayne has left London, in dread of his own weakness--we must not forget that. The day may yet come when nothing will interpose between us and failure but my knowledge of events in Miss Eyrecourt's life.
For the present, there is no more to be said.
CHAPTER XI.
STELLA ASSERTS HERSELF.
Two days after Father Benwell had posted his letter to Rome, Lady Loring entered her husband's study, and asked eagerly if he had heard any news of Romayne.
Lord Loring shook his head. "As I told you yesterday," he said, "the proprietor of the hotel can give me no information. I went myself this morning to the bankers, and saw the head partner. He offered to forward letters, but he could do no more. Until further notice, he was positively enjoined not to disclose Romayne's address to anybody. How does Stella bear it?"
"In the worst possible way," Lady Loring answered. "In silence."
"Not a word even to you?"
"Not a word."
At that reply, the servant interrupted them by announcing the arrival of a visitor, and presenting his card. Lord Loring started, and handed it to his wife. The card bore the name of "Major Hynd," and this line was added in pencil: "On business connected with Mr. Romayne. "
"Show him in directly!" cried Lady Loring.
Lord Loring remonstrated. "My dear! perhaps I had better see this gentleman alone?"
"Certainly not--unless you wish to drive me into committing an act of the most revolting meanness! If you send me away I shall listen at the door."
Major Hynd was shown in, and was duly presented to Lady Loring. After making the customary apologies, he said: "I returned to London last night, expressly to see Romayne on a matter of importance. Failing to discover his present address at the hotel, I had the hope that your lordship might be able to direct me to our friend."
I am sorry to say I know no more than you do," Lord Loring replied. "Romayne's present address is a secret confided to his bankers, and to no one else. I will give you their names, if you wish to write to him.
Major Hynd hesitated. "I am not quite sure that it would be discreet to write to him, under the circumstances."
Lady Loring could no longer keep silence. "Is it possible, Major Hynd, to tell us what the circumstances are?" she asked. "I am almost as old a friend of Romayne as my husband--and I am very anxious about him."
The Major looked embarrassed. "I can hardly answer your ladyship," he said, "without reviving painful recollections--"
Lady Loring's impatience interrupted the Major's apologies. "Do you mean the duel?" she inquired.
Lord Loring interposed. "I should tell you, Major Hynd, that Lady Loring is as well informed as I am of what happened at Boulogne, and of the deplorable result, so far as Romayne is concerned.