The Explorer

he grave state of her father's health had decided the authorities to remit the rest of his sentence, and he would be set free the next day but one at eight o'clock in the morning. She knew no

ht of a freedom from which no human laws could bar

and there engaged rooms in the house of a woman

g for them, and she drove to the lodging-house; breakfast was ready, and Lucy had seen that good things which he liked should be ready for him to eat. Fred Allerton looked wistfully at the clean table-cloth, and at the flowers and the dainty sco

e flowers,'

out of the water, deftly dried their stalks, and gave them to him. He took them with trembling hands and pres

er father's neck and plac

e whispered. 'You m

ted, and the pretty fl

they've let me

him, but di

we're together aga

use I'm go

ou'll get strong again. You have many yea

when he spoke, his voice had a hollown

ink I want

uld bear, and for a moment she had to remai

live for

hate me?'

an I ever did. I shall

ould marry you whil

that Lucy found nothing to say.

d have forgotten all about it, and you might h

t wanted

now he closed his eyes. Lucy thought that he was dozing, and bega

oaned, with the pleading

ce more, he took her hands

m in the way. Nobody wants me, and I shall only be a burden. I

y to nature. He was very thin, and his hands trembled constantly. Most of his teeth had gone; his cheeks were sunken, and he mumbled his words so that it was difficult to distinguish them. There was no light in his eyes, and his short hair wa

ad sent for, saw him, he co

he said. 'His heart is all wrong

o chance of

e can do is to al

long can

. He may die to-morrow,

as touched by the sight of Lucy's grief. H

e. It will be a mercy w

scomfort of furnished lodgings, had written to offer the use of her house in Charles Street; and Mrs. Crowley, in case they wanted complete solitude, had put Court Leys at their disposal. Lucy waited a few d

u rather stay

her question had escaped him, for often it appeared to her that hi

go back to

otten? He thought that the house of his fathers was his still; and all tha

in my own hom

e some reply. What he asked was impossible, an

le living there

he said, in

ire still. The sil

said at last. 'I want

hesit

ave to go i

n't m

now she must actually go there. The old wounds would be opened. But it was impossible to refuse, and she set about making the necessary arrangements. The rector, who had been given the living by Fred Allerton, was an old friend, and Lucy knew that she could trust in his affection. She wrote and told him that her father was dying and had set his heart on seeing once more his old home. Sh

the short journey

creature, who lived the life of a recluse in that distant village, doing his duty exactly, but given over for the most part to his beloved books. He seldom went away. The monotony of his daily round was broken only by the occasional receipt of a parce

to his native place, for he had no sooner arrived than he grew much worse. Lucy was busily occupied with nursing him and could give no time to the regrets which she had imagined would

alk any wish he had. He asked if he might go out. The day was fine and warm. It was February, and there was a feeling in the air as if the spring were at hand. In sheltered places the snowdrops and the crocuses gave the garden the blitheness

to the marshes

her, too, looked upon that scene as the most typical of his home. Other places had broad acres and fine trees, other places had forest land and purple heather, but there was something in those green flats that made them seem peculiarly their own. She took her father's

now, and he would not go to bed. He sat in an armchair, and begged them to draw it near the window. The sky was cloudless, and the moon shone brightly. Fred Allerton could see the great old elms that surrounded Hamlyn's Purlieu; and his eyes were fixed steadily

. Her father's head had fallen back, and he was breat

d has come at l

ke me to fetc

l be us

nees, began to recite the prayers for the dying. A shiver passed through Lucy. In the farmyard a cock cr

over,' she

and kissed her

, not to come; and she was the solitary mourner. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the rector read the sad, beautiful words of the burial service. She could not grieve. Her father was at peace. She could only hope that his

y which was so dear to her, he had not offered his company. Lucy's heart was full of sadness, but there was a certain peace in

Leys, she had looked upon the sea that washed the shores of Kent. Many things had passed since then, and many griefs had fallen upon her; but for all that she was happier th

looked into the distance with longing eyes. Now all her life was set upon that far-off corner of unknown Africa, where

ld only see,'

to pierce the realms of space, but her spirit came

e miraculous way she had been able to see what actions they did at that time