Return with my messenger, to assist me in taking care of the
dying man. You, who are the angel of the sick and suffering, will not
refuse me your aid. Come, never to leave me more! Our marriage shall be
acknowledged to-morrow, to-night, any time, that you in your nicer
judgment, shall approve. Come! let nothing hinder you. I will send a
message to Edith to set her anxiety at rest, or I will send for her to
be with you here. Come to me, beloved Marian. Dictate your own
conditions if you will--only come."
He had scarcely sealed this note, when the boy, hat in hand, appeared at
the door.
"Take this note, sir, jump in the gig and drive as fast as possible to
the beach below Pine Bluffs. You will see Miss Mayfield waiting there,
give her this note, and then--await her orders. Be quicker than you ever
were before," said Thurston, hurrying his messenger off.
Then, much relieved of anxiety upon Marian's account, he returned to the
sick-room and renewed his endeavors to relieve the patient.
Ah! he was far past relief now; he was stricken with death. And with
Thurston all thoughts, all feelings, all interests, even those connected
with Marian, were soon lost in that awful presence. It was the first
time he had ever looked upon death, and now, in the rushing tide of his
sinful passions and impetuous will, he was brought face to face with
this last, dread, all-conquering power! What if it were not in his own
person? What if it were in the person of an old man, very infirm, and
over-ripe for the great reaper? It was death--the final earthly end of
every living creature--death, the demolition of the human form, the
breaking up of the vital functions, the dissolution between soul and
body, the one great event that "happeneth to all;" the doom certain, the
hour uncertain; coming in infancy, youth, maturity, as often or oftener
than in age.
Pages:
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264