"She has shown me no scorn,--only a sad, half-sick listlessness, as though she too had got a death-wound at my hands. It is that which has cut me to the heart as no pride or wrath or disdain had had power to do."
Peggy shivered. Her brother noticed it. "What a brute I am," he murmured, "to keep thee standing here in the cold night air. 'Tis of a piece with my selfishness. Get thee in and know that thou hast brought something like comfort to the heart of a sorrow-stricken man. Good-night, and God bless thee!"
"I will go in as thou bidst me, for the night air waxes cold. But thou--what wilt thou do?"
"I do not know; I have not thought. It matters little."
"Oh, yes, it matters very little whether thou dost catch thy death of cold!"
"Well, as for that, it might serve thy turn, but it would be passing hard for me!" Here she began to cry.
"By Heavens, thou dost speak truth! Listen, little one: for thy sake I will take care of myself; for thy sake I will fight this thing to the bitter end. And if by any chance I conquer, thou mayst have the joy of knowing that but for thee it never had been done."
For the first time a ring of determination, of energy, of unconscious hope sounded in his voice.
"Now art thou brave once more," cried Peggy, raising herself on tip-toe to look into his eyes, which shone like cut steel in the moonlight. "Never fear but all shall come right yet!"
As she tore herself away and hurried up the steps, she saw with amazement that Ralph Ingle was pacing up and down the cleared space before the door of the manor-house.
He saluted gravely as Peggy drew near, and would fain have passed on, but she stopped before him.
"By order of Governor Brent," he answered.
The words struck a chill to her soul. So Christopher, her brother Christopher, the idol of her childhood, the revered hero of her girlish dreams, was being _watched_, like a criminal! A quick flame of rage rose in her heart, and drove back the numbness of despair. "How dare they?" she whispered to herself; but she hid her thoughts, and spoke no word further.
As she passed through the hall to reach her chamber, she saw Elinor still kneeling in the chapel, and the hot anger rose in her stronger than ever. Was this the pattern of perfection she had wasted so many thoughts upon,--this woman whose faith broke at the first trial?