Anyhow, her hands are tied now, and her tongue too, for the
matter of that. Give my respects to your mistress, and tell her
that her runaway husband and her lying maid will never either of
them harm her again as long as they live. She has nothing to do
now but to pluck up her spirits and live happy. Here's long life
to her and to you, William, in the last glass of ale; and here's
the same toast to myself in the bottom of the jug."
With those words Mr. Dark pocketed his large snuff-box, gave a
last wink with his bright eye, and walked rapidly away,
whistling, to catch the London coach. From that time to this he
and I have never met again.
A few last words relating to my mistress and to the other persons
chiefly concerned in this narrative will conclude all that it is
now necessary for me to say.
For some months the relatives and friends, and I myself, felt sad
misgivings on my poor mistress's account. We doubted if it was
possible, with such a quick, sensitive nature as hers, that she
could support the shock which had been inflicted on her. But our
powers of endurance are, as I have learned to believe, more often
equal to the burdens laid upon us than we are apt to imagine. I
have seen many surprising recoveries from illness after all hope
had been lost, and I have lived to see my mistress recover from
the grief and terror which we once thought would prove fatal to
her.
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