With my head in a whirl, I crossed to the door, and leaned there
awhile, staring sightlessly out into the summer evening; for it
seemed that in this little slip of paper lay that which meant
life or death to me; so, for a long minute I leaned there,
fearing to learn my fate. Then I opened the little folded square
of paper, and, holding it before my eyes, read: "Charmian Brown presents" (This scratched out.) "While you
busied yourself forging horseshoes your cousin, Sir Maurice,
sought and found me. I do not love him, but-- CHARMIAN.
"Farewell" (This also scored out.) Again I stared before me with unseeing eyes, but my hands no
longer trembled, nor did I fear any more; the prisoner had
received his sentence, and suspense was at an end.
And, all at once, I laughed, and tore the paper across, and
laughed and laughed, till George and the Ancient came to stare at
me.
"Don't 'ee!" cried the old man; "don't 'ee, Peter--you be like a
corp' laughin'; don't 'ee!" But the laugh still shook me while I
tore and tore at the paper, and so let the pieces drop and
flutter from my fingers.
"There!" said I, "there goes a fool's dream! See how it
scatters--a little here, a little there; but, so long as this
world lasts, these pieces shall never come together again." So
saying, I set off along the road, looking neither to right nor
left. But, when I had gone some distance, I found that George
walked beside me, and he was very silent as he walked, and I saw
the trouble was back in his eyes again.
"George," said I, stopping, "why do you follow me?"
"I don't follow 'ee, Peter," he answered; "I be only wishful to
walk wi' you a ways."
"I'm in no mood for company, George."
"Well, I bean't company, Peter--your friend, I be," he said
doggedly, and without looking at me.
"Yes," said I; "yes, my good and trusty friend."
"Peter," he cried suddenly, laying his hand upon my shoulder,
"don't go back to that theer ghashly 'Oller to-night--"
"It is the only place in the world for me--to-night, George."
And so we went on again, side by side, through the evening, and
spoke no more until we had come to the parting of the ways.
Down in the Hollow the shadows lay black and heavy, and I saw
George shiver as he looked.