from the possible repulses andaffronts to which the attempt might subject him, but from a thoroughconviction that the endeavor would be utterly fruitless for good, whileit might, very obviously, expose him to painful misinterpretation andsuspicion, and leave it to be imagined that he had been influenced, if byno meaner motive, at least by the promptings of a coarse curiosity.
Meanwhile he maintained a correspondence with Mrs. Marston, and had evenonce or twice since her departure visited her. Latterly, however, thiscorrespondence had been a good deal interrupted, and its intervals hadbeen supplied occasionally by Rhoda, whose letters, although she herselfappeared unconscious of the mournful event the approach of which theytoo plainly indicated, were painful records of the rapid progress ofmortal decay.
He had just received one of those ominous letters, at the little postoffice in the town we have already mentioned, and, full of the melancholynews it contained, Dr. Danvers was returning slowly towards his home. Ashe rode into a lonely road, traversing an undulating tract of some threemiles in length, the singularity, it may be, of his costume attracted theeye of another passenger, who was, as it turned out, no other thanMarston himself. For two or three miles of this desolate road, their wayshappened to lie together. Marston's first impulse was to avoid theclergyman; his second, which he obeyed, was to join company, and ridealong with him, at all events, for so long as would show that he shrankfrom no encounter which fortune or accident presented. There was a spiritof bitter defiance in this, which cost him a painful effort.
"How do you do, Parson Danvers?" said Marston, touching his hat with thehandle of his whip.
Danvers thought he had seldom seen a man so changed in so short a time.His face had grown sallow and wasted, and his figure slightly stooped,with an appearance almost of feebleness.
"Mr. Marston," said the clergyman, gravely, and almost sternly, thoughwith some embarrassment, "it is a long time since you and I have seenone another, and many and painful events have passed in the interval.I scarce know upon what terms we meet. I am prompted to speak to you,and in a tone, perhaps, which you will hardly brook; and yet, if wekeep company, as it seems likely we may, I cannot, and I ought not, tobe silent."
"Well, Mr. Danvers, I accept the condition--speak what you will," saidMarston, with a gloomy promptitude. "If you exceed your privilege, andgrow uncivil, I need but use my spurs, and leave you behind me preachingto the winds."
"Ah! Mr. Marston," said Dr. Danvers, almost sadly, after a considerablepause, "when I saw you close beside me, my heart was troubled within me."
"You looked on me as something from the nether world, and expected to seethe cloven hoof," said Marston, bitterly, and raising his booted foot alittle as he spoke; "but, after all, I am but a vulgar sinner of fleshand blood, without enough of the preternatural about me to frighten anold nurse, much less to agitate a pillar of the Church."
"Mr. Marston, you talk sarcastically, but you feel that recentcircumstances, as well as old recollections, might well disturb andtrouble me at sight of you," answered Dr. Danvers.
"Well--yes--perhaps it is so," said Marston, hastily and sullenly, andbecame silent for a while.
"My heart is full, Mr. Marston; charged with grief, when I think of thesad history of those with whom, in my mind, you must ever be associated,"said Doctor Danvers.
"Aye, to be sure," said Marston, with stern impatience; "but, then, youhave much to console you. You have got your comforts and yourrespectability; all the dearer, too, from the contrast of other people'smisfortunes and degradations; then you have your religion moreover--"
"Yes," interrupted Danvers, earnestly, and hastening to avoid a sneerupon this subject; "God be blessed, I am an humble follower of hisgracious Son, our Redeemer; and though, I trust, I should bear withpatient submission whatever chastisement in his wisdom and goodness hemight see fit to inflict upon me, yet I do praise and bless him for themercy which has hitherto spared me, and I do feel that mercy all the moreprofoundly, from the afflictions and troubles with which I daily seeothers overtaken."
"And in the matter of piety and decorum, doubtless, you bless God also,"said Marston, sarcastically, "that you are not as other men are, nor evenas this publican."
"Nay, Mr. Marston; God forbid I should harden my sinful heart with thewicked pride of the Pharisee. Evil and corrupt am I already over much.Too well I know the vileness of my heart, to make myself righteous in myown eyes," replied Dr. Danvers, humbly. "But, sinner as I am, I am yet amessenger of God, whose mission is one of authority to hisfellow-sinners; and woe is me if I speak not the truth at all seasons,and in all places where my words may be profitably heard."
"Well, Doctor Danvers, it seems you think it your duty to speak to me,of course, respecting my conduct and my spiritual state. I shall save youthe pain and trouble of opening the subject; I shall state the case foryou in two words," said Marston, almost fiercely. "I have put away mywife without just cause, and am living in sin with another woman. Come,what have you to say on this theme? Speak out. Deal with me as roughly asyou will, I will hear it, and answer you again."
"Alas, Mr. Marston! And do not these things trouble you?" exclaimed Dr.Danvers, earnestly. "Do they not weigh heavy upon your conscience? Ah,sir, do you not remember that, slowly and surely, you are drawing towardsthe hour of death, and the Day of Judgment?"
"The hour or death! Yes, I know it is coming, and I await it withindifference. But, for the Day of Judgment, with its books and trumpets!My dear doctor, pray don't expect to frighten me with that."
Marston spoke with an angry scorn, which had the effect of interruptingthe conversation for some moments.
They rode on, side by side, for a long time, without speaking. At length,however, Marston unexpectedly broke the silence--
"Doctor Danvers," said he, "you asked me some time ago if I feared thehour of death, and the Day of Judgment. I answered you truly, I do notfear them; nay death, I think, I could meet with a happier and a quieterheart than any other chance that can befall me; but there are otherfears; fears that do trouble me much."
Doctor Danvers looked inquiringly at him; but neither spoke for a time.
"You have not seen the catastrophe of the tragedy yet," said Marston,with a stern, stony look, made more horrible by a forced smile andsomething like a shudder. "I wish I could tell you--you, DoctorDanvers--for you are honorable and gentle-hearted. I wish I durst tellyou what I fear; the only, only thing I really do fear. No mortal knowsit but myself, and I see it coming upon me with slow, but unconquerablepower. Oh, God--dreadful Spirit--spare me!"
Again they were silent, and again Marston resumed--
"Doctor Danvers, don't mistake me," he said, turning sharply, and fixinghis eyes with a strange expression upon his companion. "I dread nothinghuman; I fear neither death, nor disgrace, nor eternity; I have nosecrets to keep--no exposures to apprehend; but I dread--I dread--"
He paused, scowled darkly, as if stung with pain, turned away, mutteringto himself, and gradually became much excited.
"I can't tell you now, sir, and I won't," he said, abruptly and fiercely,and with a countenance darkened with a wild and appalling rage that waswholly unaccountable. "I see you searching me with your eyes. Suspectwhat you will, sir, you shan't inveigle me into admissions. Aye,pry--whisper--stare--question, conjecture, sir--I suppose I must endurethe world's impertinence, but d----n me if I gratify it."
It would not be easy to describe Dr. Danvers' astonishment at thisunaccountable explosion of fury. He was resolved, however, to bear hiscompanion's violence with temper.
They rode on slowly for fully ten minutes in utter silence, except thatMarston occasionally muttered to himself, as it seemed, in excitedabstraction. Danvers had at first felt naturally offended at the violentand insulting tone in which he had been so unexpectedly and unprovokedlyaddressed; but this feeling of irritation was but transient, and somefearful suspicions as to Marston's sanity flitted through his mind. In acalmer and more dogged tone, his companion now addressed him:--
&n
bsp; "There is little profit you see, doctor, in worrying me about yourreligion," said Marston. "it is but sowing the wind, and reaping thewhirlwind; and, to say the truth, the longer you pursue it, the less I amin the mood to listen. If ever you are cursed and persecuted as I havebeen, you will understand how little tolerant of gratuitous vexations andcontradictions a man may become. We have squabbled over religion longenough, and each holds his own faith still. Continue to sun yourself inyour happy delusions, and leave me untroubled to tread the way of my owndark and cheerless destiny."
Thus saying, he made a sullen gesture of farewell, and spurring hishorse, crossed the broken fence at the roadside, and so, at a listlesspace, through gaps and by