What he had suffered during his long exile no man can presume to
say. I, who saw more of him than anyone, never heard a word of
complaint fall from his lips. He had the courage of the martyrs
while he lived, and the resignation of the saints when he died.
Just at the last his mind wandered. He said he saw his little
darling waiting by the bedside to lead him away, and he died with
a smile on his face--the first I had ever seen there."
The priest ceased, and we went out together in the mournful
twilight, and stood for a little while on the brow of the hill
where Uncle George used to sit, with his face turned toward
England. How my heart ached for him as I thought of what he must
have suffered in the silence and solitude of his long exile! Was
it well for me that I had discovered the Family Secret at last? I
have sometimes thought not. I have sometimes wished that the
darkness had never been cleared away which once hid from me the
fate of Uncle George.
THE THIRD DAY.
FINE again. Our guest rode out, with her ragged little groom, as
usual. There was no news yet in the paper--that is to say, no
news of George or his ship.
On this day Morgan completed his second story, and in two or
three days more I expected to finish the last of my own
contributions.
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