Roxy Hastings — page 229: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

220 ROXY HASTINGS. The lieutenant thought his brother’s conduct strange, but he knew that Charles was right at heart. | ‘And now,” resumed the latter, “I want to say some- thing to you on another subject, or rather on one of the top- ics which—which we have already touched upon.” “Does it relate to Lucy?” asked the other, quickly. “Yes—to Lucy.” “The visit of that strange young lady to you—had that anything to do wtih what you have to tell me? Have you come here on purpose to say it? Is it—is it something that justifies your evident joy at my not being engaged to Roxy ?” | It was with terrible earnestness that these words were spoken; it was wonderful with what electric rapidity the idea that suggested them had sprung into life. While Charles hesitated how to reply, his brother contin- ued, still speaking rapidly: “You know that despite all the appalling proofs to the contrary, I have sometimes contemplated the possibility of Lucy being still alive.” f “T know—I know.” “Tf there is anything that can afford ailment to such a hope as this, anything that can justify a renewal of re- searches which we have supposed exhaustive—anything that would make it not the act of a madman to go on a pligrimage through every quarter of the globe in search of her—speak—and speak quickly—but if otherwise, wait, oh, wait a brief moment, my dear brother, and give me time to meet the shock of your answer.” The wild energy with which all this was spoken, except- ing the last sentence, which was uttered in a low and al- most waliing tone, cannot be expressed. “Fear nothing from my answer,” said Charles, quickly and cheerily. “If I had not ground for hope do you think I would have permitted you to indulge it, even for a mo- ment ?” Alfred’s arms were around his brother’s neck ere this sentence was half uttered. “Tell me all! Tell me all!” he said. “Nay, Alf, not yet, not quite yet. But Ibid you hope! lJassure you that it will not be the act of a madman to go in search of her, for nothing is more certain than that she does not lie beneath that monument which records her vir- tues, and the late repentance of her friends.” “ And there is a clew,” gasped Alfred, ‘‘a clew to her re- treat? Tell me that! Tell me that!” Eomicbooks.co