Chapter 52 - Page 2

us and them. With
the fairest winds that ever blew, to go and return would take three
days and nights.'

'Their nephew,' said Newman, 'their old clerk.'

'What could either do, that I cannot?' rejoined Nicholas. 'With
reference to them, especially, I am enjoined to the strictest
silence on this subject. What right have I to betray the confidence
reposed in me, when nothing but a miracle can prevent this sacrifice?'

'Think,' urged Newman. 'Is there no way.'

'There is none,' said Nicholas, in utter dejection. 'Not one. The
father urges, the daughter consents. These demons have her in their
toils; legal right, might, power, money, and every influence are on
their side. How can I hope to save her?'

'Hope to the last!' said Newman, clapping him on the back. 'Always
hope; that's a dear boy. Never leave off hoping; it don't answer. Do
you mind me, Nick? It don't answer. Don't leave a stone unturned.
It's always something, to know you've done the most you could. But,
don't leave off hoping, or it's of no use doing anything. Hope,
hope, to the last!'

Nicholas needed encouragement. The suddenness with which
intelligence of the two usurers' plans had come upon him, the little
time which remained for exertion, the probability, almost amounting
to certainty itself, that a few hours would place Madeline Bray for
ever beyond his reach, consign her to unspeakable misery, and
perhaps to an untimely death; all this quite stunned and overwhelmed
him. Every hope connected with her that he had suffered himself to
form, or had entertained unconsciously, seemed to fall at his feet,
withered and dead. Every charm with which his memory or imagination
had surrounded her, presented itself before him, only to heighten
his anguish and add new bitterness to his despair. Every feeling of
sympathy for her forlorn condition, and of admiration for her
heroism and fortitude, aggravated the indignation which shook him in
every limb, and swelled his heart almost to bursting.

But, if Nicholas's own heart embarrassed him, Newman's came to his
relief. There was so much earnestness in his remonstrance, and such
sincerity and fervour in his manner, odd and ludicrous as it always
was, that it imparted to Nicholas new firmness, and enabled him to
say, after he had walked on for some little way in silence:

'You read me a good lesson, Newman, and I will profit by it. One
step, at least, I may take--am bound to take indeed--and to that I
will apply myself tomorrow.'

'What is that?' asked Noggs wistfully. 'Not to threaten Ralph? Not
to see the father?'

'To see the daughter, Newman,' replied Nicholas. 'To do what, after
all, is the utmost that the brothers could do, if they were here, as