If he were afraid of the crime
being traced out, would he not rather encourage the idea of a
voluntary disappearance? He had even declared that if the ties
between him and his nephew had been less strong, he might have
swept 'even him' away from her side. Was that like his having
really done so? He had spoken of laying his six months' labours in
the cause of a just vengeance at her feet. Would he have done
that, with that violence of passion, if they were a pretence?
Would he have ranged them with his desolate heart and soul, his
wasted life, his peace and his despair? The very first sacrifice
that he represented himself as making for her, was his fidelity to
his dear boy after death. Surely these facts were strong against a
fancy that scarcely dared to hint itself. And yet he was so
terrible a man! In short, the poor girl (for what could she know
of the criminal intellect, which its own professed students
perpetually misread, because they persist in trying to reconcile it
with the average intellect of average men, instead of identifying
it as a horrible wonder apart) could get by no road to any other
conclusion than that he WAS a terrible man, and must be fled from.
She had been Helena's stay and comfort during the whole time. She
had constantly assured her of her full belief in her brother's
innocence, and of her sympathy with him in his misery. But she had
never seen him since the disappearance, nor had Helena ever spoken
one word of his avowal to Mr.
Pages:
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295