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"James Mottram's body was terribly mangled. But his head," answered the priest solemnly, "was severed from his body, as you saw it in your dream, Charles. A strangely clean cut, it seems " "Ay," said Charles Nagle. "That was in my dream too; if I said nearly severed, I said wrong." Catherine was now again standing by the priest's side. "Charles," she said gravely, "you must now get up; Mr.
I wish him the joy of the meeting!" It was five hours later. Mrs. Nagle had bidden her reverend guest good night, and she was now moving about her large, barely furnished bedchamber, waiting for her husband to come upstairs. The hours which had followed James Mottram's departure had seemed intolerably long.
It is that work of charity, dear friend, which you have been performing in our unhappy house. You have been nursing the sick nay, more, you have been tending" she waited, then in a low voice she added "the dead the dead that are yet alive." Mottram's soul leapt into his eyes. "Then you bid me stay?" he asked. "For the present," she answered, "I beg you to stay.
'S'pose so, unless old Timbersides' finance minister manages to dress some of my food. Good-night, and God bless you! 'What's wrong now? 'Oh, nothing. Lowndes gathered up his whip, and, as he flicked Mottram's mare on the flank, added, 'You're not a bad little chap, that's all. And the mare bolted half a mile across the sand, on the word.
Very simple indeed were the tunes to which Mottram's art and the limitations of the piano could give effect, but the men listened with pleasure, and in the pauses talked all together of what they had seen or heard when they were last at home.
She reminded herself fiercely that never had she allowed anything to interfere with her wifely duty. Never? Alas! she remembered that there had come a day, at a time when James Mottram's sudden defection had filled her heart with pain, when she had been unkind to Charles.
It was hoped that the same result would follow here, and a long strip of James Mottram's estate had been selected as being peculiarly suitable for the laying down of the iron track which was to connect the nearest town with the sea.
Hiding her face in her hands, she lived again each agonized and exquisite moment she had lived through as there had fallen on her ears the words of James Mottram's shamed confession. Once more her heart was moved to an exultant sense of happiness that he should have said these things to her of happiness and shrinking shame....
For the moment the cloud had again lifted; Nagle looked at his cousin with all his old confidence and affection, and in response James Mottram's face worked with sudden emotion. "I'll be quite at your service, Charles," he said, "quite at your service!" Catherine stood by. "I will let you out by the orchard gate," she said. "No need for you to go round by the road."
His eyes held hers, by turns they seemed to become beseeching and imperious. Catherine Nagle suddenly threw out her hands with a piteous gesture. "Ah! James," she said, "I cannot trust my own " And as she thus made surrender of her two most cherished possessions, her pride and her womanly reticence, Mottram's face the plain-featured face so exquisitely dear to her became transfigured.
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