Кінець рабства
XIV
Godseemstohaveforgottenme.Iwanttoseeyou—andyetdeathwouldbeagreaterfavor.Ifyoueverreadthesewords,IchargeyoutobeginbythankingaGodmercifulatlast,forIshallbedeadthen,anditwillbewell.Mydear,Iamattheendofmytether.”
Thenextparagraphbeganwiththewords:“Mysightisgoing...”
Shereadnomorethatday.Thehandholdingupthepapertohereyesfellslowly,andherslenderfigureinaplainblackdresswalkedrigidlytothewindow.Hereyesweredry:nocryofsorroworwhisperofthankswentuptoheavenfromherlips.Lifehadbeentoohard,foralltheeffortsofhislove.Ithadsilencedheremotions.Butforthefirsttimeinalltheseyearsitsstinghaddeparted,thecarkingcareofpoverty,themeannessofahardstruggleforbread.Eventheimageofherhusbandandofherchildrenseemedtoglideawayfromherintothegraytwilight;itwasherfather’sfacealonethatshesaw,asthoughhehadcometoseeher,alwaysquietandbig,asshehadseenhimlast,butwithsomethingmoreaugustandtenderinhisaspect.
Sheslippedhisfoldedletterbetweenthetwobuttonsofherplainblackbodice,andleaningherforeheadagainstawindow-paneremainedtheretilldusk,perfectlymotionless,givinghimallthetimeshecouldspare.Gone!Wasitpossible?MyGod,wasitpossible!Theblowhadcomesoftenedbythespacesoftheearth,bytheyearsofabsence.Therehadbeenwholedayswhenshehadnotthoughtofhimatall—hadnotime.Butshehadlovedhim,shefeltshehadlovedhim,afterall.
