Chapter 10 - Page 2

gazing out of the window
with vacant introspective vision, trying to call up from the past the
dear form that would come no more. She put down her sewing, and Richard
drew closer to her side, and comforted her with assurances that he
believed, "all was well with the dead." "I was with him during the
last weeks of his sad life," he said; "I did all that love could
suggest to soothe his sufferings. He sleeps well; believe me."

"I never heard from him after our sorrowful farewell. I looked and
hoped for a little until my heart failed me; and I thought he perished
at sea."

"No; God's mercy spared him until he had proved the vanity of all
earthly ambition, and then he gave him rest. When he awoke, I have
no doubt that 'he was satisfied.'"

"Where did he die? Tell me all, Richard, for there may be words and
events that seem trivial to you that will be full of meaning to me."

"Last March I went to Mexico on business of importance, and passing
one morning through the Grand Plaza, I thought a figure slowly
sauntering before me was a familiar one. It went into a small office
for the exchange of foreign money, and, as I wanted some exchange, I
followed. To my surprise the man seemed to be the proprietor; he went
behind the counter into a room, but on my touching a bell reappeared.
It was Antony. The moment our eyes met, we recognized each other, and
after a slight hesitation, I am sure that he was thankful and delighted
to see me. I was shocked at his appearance. He looked fifty years of
age, and had lost all his color, and was extremely emaciated. We were
soon interrupted, and he promised to come to my hotel and dine with me
at six o'clock.

"I noticed at dinner that he ate very little, and that he had a
distressing and nearly constant cough, and afterward, as we sat on
the piazza, I said, 'Let us go inside, Antony; there is a cold wind,
and you have a very bad cough.'

"'O, it is nothing,' he answered fretfully. 'The only wonder is that
I am alive, after all I have been made to suffer. Stronger men than
I ever was fell and died at my side. You are too polite, Richard, to
ask me where I have been; but if you wish to hear, I should like to
tell you.'

"I answered, 'You are my friend and my brother, Antony; and whatever
touches you for good or for evil touches me also. I should like to
hear all you wish to tell me.'

"'It is all evil, Richard. You would hear from Elizabeth that I was
obliged to leave England?'

"'Yes, she told me.'

"'How long have you been married?' he asked me, sharply; and when I
said, 'We are not married; Elizabeth wrote and said she had a duty