Chapter 32

CHAPTER XXXII - MISCHANCES

'What! remain to be

Denounced--dragged, it may be, in chains.'

WERNER.

All the next day they sate together--they three. Mr. Hale hardly
ever spoke but when his children asked him questions, and forced
him, as it were, into the present. Frederick's grief was no more
to be seen or heard; the first paroxysm had passed over, and now
he was ashamed of having been so battered down by emotion; and
though his sorrow for the loss of his mother was a deep real
feeling, and would last out his life, it was never to be spoken
of again. Margaret, not so passionate at first, was more
suffering now. At times she cried a good deal; and her manner,
even when speaking on indifferent things, had a mournful
tenderness about it, which was deepened whenever her looks fell
on Frederick, and she thought of his rapidly approaching
departure. She was glad he was going, on her father's account,
however much she might grieve over it on her own. The anxious
terror in which Mr. Hale lived lest his son should be detected
and captured, far out-weighed the pleasure he derived from his
presence. The nervousness had increased since Mrs. Hale's death,
probably because he dwelt upon it more exclusively. He started at
every unusual sound; and was never comfortable unless Frederick
sate out of the immediate view of any one entering the room.
Towards evening he said:

'You will go with Frederick to the station, Margaret? I shall
want to know he is safely off. You will bring me word that he is
clear of Milton, at any rate?'

'Certainly,' said Margaret. 'I shall like it, if you won't be
lonely without me, papa.'

'No, no! I should always be fancying some one had known him, and
that he had been stopped, unless you could tell me you had seen
him off. And go to the Outwood station. It is quite as near, and
not so many people about. Take a cab there. There is less risk of
his being seen. What time is your train, Fred?'

'Ten minutes past six; very nearly dark. So what will you do,
Margaret?'

'Oh, I can manage. I am getting very brave and very hard. it is a
well-lighted road all the way home, if it should be dark. But I
was out last week much later.'

Margaret was thankful when the parting was over--the parting from
the dead mother and the living father. She hurried Frederick into
the cab, in order to shorten a scene which she saw was so
bitterly painful to her father, who would accompany his son as he
took his last look at his mother. Partly in consequence of this,
and partly owing to one of the very common mistakes in the
'Railway Guide' as to the times when trains arrive at the smaller
stations, they found, on reaching Outwood, that they had