E-text prepared by Al Haines
Or, A Woman's Vengeance
by
Author of Lady Evelyn, Queen of the Isle, Who Wins?,Estella's Husband, The Heiress of Glendower, etc.
New York
The New York Book Company
1910
The clouds, which rise with thunder, slake
Our thirsty souls with rain;
The blow most dreaded falls to break
From off our limbs a chain;
And wrongs of man to man but make
The love of God more plain.
As through the shadowy lens of even
The eye looks farthest into heaven
On gleams of star and depths of blue
The glaring sunshine never knew!
It falls before, it follows behind,
Darkest still when the day is bright;
No light without the shadow we find,
And never shadow without the light.
From our shadow we cannot flee away;
It walks when we walk, it runs when we run;
But it tells which way to look for the sun;
We may turn our backs on it any day.
Ever mingle the sight and shade
That make this human world so dear;
Sorrow of joy is ever made,
And what were a hope without a fear?
A morning shadow o'er youth is cast,
Warning from pleasure's dazzling snare;
A shadow lengthening across the past,
Fixes our fondest memories there.
One shadow there is, so dark, so drear,
So broad we see not the brightness round it;
Yet 'tis but the dark side of the sphere
Moving into the light unbounded.
"And there is danger of death—for mother and child?"
"Well, no, Sir Jasper—no, sir; no certain danger, you know; but inthese protracted cases it can do no harm, Sir Jasper, for the clergymanto be here. He may not be needed but your good lady is very weak, I amsorry to say, Sir Jasper Kingsland."
"I will send for the clergyman," Sir Jasper Kingsland said. "Do yourbest, Doctor Godroy, and for God's sake let me know the worst or bestas soon as may be. This suspense is horrible."
Doctor Parker Godroy looked sympathetically at him through hisgold-bowed spectacles.
"I will do my best, Sir Jasper," he said, gravely. "The result is inthe hands of the Great Dispenser of life and death. Send for theclergyman, and wait and hope."
He quitted the library as he spoke. Sir Jasper Kingsland seized thebell and rang a shrill peal.
"Ride to the village—ride for your life!" he said, imperatively, tothe servant who answered, "and fetch the Reverend Cyrus Green here atonce."
The man bowed and departed, and Sir Jasper Kingsland, Baronet, ofKingsland Court, was alone—alone in the gloomy grandeur of the vastlibrary; alone with his thoughts and the wailing midnight storm.
A little toy time-piece of buhl on the stone mantel chimed musicallyits story of the hour, and Sir Jasper Kingsland lifted his gloomy eyesfor a moment at the sound. A tall, spare middle-aged man, handsomeonce—handsome still, some people said—with iro