Edward went out into the dark passages, following Hester and her candle with a sense of something that must be said to her now. He had not thought of this when he set out. Then he had been merely excited, glad of the relief of the air and silence, scarcely aware that he wanted to pour out his soul into the bosom of someone who would understand him, of her who alone he thought could be trusted fully. But the obstacles, the hindrances, had developed this longing. Why should he have made so inappropriate a visit except under the stimulus of having something to say? And she, too, was now expecting breathlessly, something which he must have to say. When she set down her candle and opened the door into the verandah, she turned round instinctively to hear what it was. The white moon shone down straight through the glass roof, throwing black shadows of all the wintry plants in the pots, and of the two who stood curiously foreshortened by the light above them. She did not ask anything, but her whole attitude was a question. He took both her hands in his hands.
“It is nothing,” he said, “that is, I don’t know what there is to tell you. I had come to a conclusion, after a great deal of thought. I had settled to begin in a new way, and I felt that I must talk it over, that I couldn’t keep silent; and there is no one I could speak to with freedom but you.”
She did not withdraw her hands, or show any surprise at his confidence; but only whispered “What is it, Edward?” breathlessly, with all the excitement that had been gathering in her.
“I don’t know how I can tell you,” he said; “it is only business. If I were to go into details you wouldn’t understand. It is only that I’ve made up my mind to a new course of action. I am burning my ships, Hester. I must get rid of this shut-up life somehow. I have gone in to win—a great fortune—or to lose—”
“Edward!” she said, with an unconscious pressure of his hands. “Tell me—I think I could understand.”
“So long as you feel with me, that is all I want,” he said. “I feel better now that I have told you. We shall make our fortune, dear, or—but there is no or—we must succeed. I know we shall; and then, Hester, my only love—”
He drew close to her, and kissed her in his excitement, straining her hands. It was not a love-kiss, but the expression of that agitation which was in his veins. She drew back from him in astonishment, but not in anger, understanding it so.
“What is it? To win a great fortune, or—to lose—what? Edward, you are not risking—other people?” she said.
“Pshaw!” he said, almost turning away from her. Then, next moment, “Never mind other people, Hester. That will come all right. I hope you don’t think I am a fool. I have made a new departure, that is all, and with everything in my favour. Wish me good luck, and keep my secret. It seemed too big for me to keep all by myself. Now that I have put half of it upon you I shall be able to sleep.”
“But you have not told me anything,” she said.
Upon which he laughed a little, in an agitated way, and said—
“Perhaps that is all the better. You know everything, and yet you know nothing. I have been kept in long enough, and done as other people would, not as I wished myself; and now that is over. There is no one in the world to whom I would say so much, but you.”
Hester was pleased and touched to the bottom of her heart.
“Oh, if I could only help you!” she cried; “if I could do anything, or if you would tell me more! I know I could understand. But anyhow, if it is a relief to you to tell me just as much as that; I am glad! only if I could but help you—”
“At present no one could help; it is fortune that must decide.”
“You mean Providence,” said Hester, softly. She had never used the phraseology of religious sentiment as many girls do at her age, and was very shy in respect to it. But she added, under her breath, “And one can always pray.”
At this Edward, which was a sign of grace in him, though she did not know it as such, drew back with a hasty movement. It gave him a strange sensation to think of the success which he was seeking by such means being prayed for, as if it had been a holy enterprise. But just then Mrs. John stirred audibly within, as if about to come and inquire into the causes of the delay. He kissed her again tenderly, without any resistance on her part, and said—
“Good night—good night! I must not say any more.”
Hester opened the outer door for him, letting in the cold night air. It was a glorious night, still as only winter is, the moonlight filling up everything. She stood for a moment looking after him, as he crossed the threshold. When he had made a few steps into the night, he came back again hastily, and caught her hands once more.
“Hester, we win or lose. Will you come away with me? Will you give
