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Updated: June 19, 2025
Even you do not know of the ugly things which creep away out of sight in the night my night that I love! And they could sting one if one did not know where to put one's feet. And so it must be with him he did not always see where just to put his feet, so we must not judge him, must we?" she pleaded. "Not if you do not wish," Mr. Carlyon blurted out.
At the head of the veranda-steps she dimly discerned a figure waiting for her, a figure clothed in some white, muffling garment that seemed to cover the face. And yet she knew by all her bounding pulses whom she had found. "Colonel Carlyon!" she said, and on the impulse of the moment she gave him both her hands. His quiet voice answered her out of the strange folds.
"Carlyon senior is a dry, chippy sort of little man, as meek as a mouse and as good as gold. He is curate-in-charge of an iron church at Stokeley; it is in the Black Country, you know a regular inferno of a place nothing but tall chimneys and blasting furnaces, heaps of slag and rows of miners' cottages. Stokeley town is a mile or two farther on; it is a beastly sort of hole."
It is the nearest, and she can be properly attended to there." "You know her, Sir Jasper, do you not?" asked Lady Helen, with quick womanly intuition. "Know her?" Sir Jasper replied, "know Zenith? Great Heaven! I thought she was dead." The Reverend Cyrus Green and Lady Helen exchanged glances. Mr. Carlyon looked in sharp surprise at the speaker. "Then she is not mad, after all!
"Dear David had seemed so much better that day; but Dr. Hewlitt had warned us of probable collapse and heart-failure." "He had only left us half an hour, and Mr. Carlyon was reading the Evening Psalms to him, when he saw a change in him and called to us." "I am sure David knew us when we went in, but he could not speak, and then unconsciousness came on.
"Is your life more valuable now than it was a few months ago?" enquired Carlyon, in a casual tone. "Yes," said Derrick shorty. "Has Averil accepted you?" Carlyon asked him point-blank. "Yes," said Derrick again. There was a momentary pause. Then: "Permit me to offer my felicitations!" said Carlyon, through a haze of tobacco-smoke. Derrick started as if stung.
Herrick alone I mean to ask him about the Behistun Inscription;" and then Mr. Carlyon strolled towards them, followed by Cedric, and Elizabeth, who had finished her coffee, advanced towards them. "They are still at it tooth and nail," observed David in an amused tone. "I should have stopped to listen to them, only this fellow was so sick of the discussion. What a well-informed chap Herrick is!"
"Had I known what was coming," Carlyon said, "so much as three days ago, the women would not now be in the station. As things are, it would have been impossible to weaken the garrison to supply them with an escort to Akbar." Raymond stifled a deep curse in his throat. Had they but known indeed! Carlyon went on in his deliberate way: "I shall leave you in command here to-night.
He did not think, moreover, that Averil herself would continue to offer homage before so obvious a piece of clay as her idol had proved himself to be. Derrick was beginning to apply to Carlyon the most odious of all epithets that of coward. He had set his heart upon a reconciliation with Averil, and earnestly he hoped she would see the matter with his eyes.
His young face was very stern. "He was probably attached to General Harford's division. He found us in a fix, and he helped us out of it. He knew the land. We didn't. He was the most splendid fighting-man I ever saw. He tried to stick up for you, too said you didn't know. That, of course, was a mistake. You did know, and are not ashamed to own it." "Not in the least," said Carlyon.
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