Had Guy spoken then, as he ought to have done, I believe all might have
been amended; but an angry devil was busy within him, and would not let
go his prey; he stood with his black brows downcast, and with folded
arms, never seeming to notice the slender fingers that sought to touch
his hand. True it is that nothing makes a man so unforgiving as the
consciousness of having inflicted a bitter wrong. He heard a sigh, heavy
and despairing as Francesca's when her dying prayer was spurned, a light
shadow flitted across the streak of moonlit grass, and, when he raised
his head, he was left alone, like Alp on the sea-shore, to judge the
battle between a remorseful conscience and a hardened heart.
Livingstone was seen no more that night; Constance glided in alone, and
her absence had been scarcely noticed. During the short time that she
remained, no one could have guessed from her face that her heart was
broken, any more than did Napoleon that the aid-de-camp who brought the
news of Lannes' victory had been almost cut in two by a grape-shot.
I speak it diffidently, with the fear of the divine voice of the people
before my eyes, as is but fitting in these equalizing days, when
territories, the title to which is possession immemorial, are being
plucked away acre by acre, and hereditary privileges mined one by one;
but it seems to me, in this, perhaps, solitary attribute, "the brave old
houses" still keep their pre-eminence.
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