How the Third Floor Knew the Potteries | Page 3

little dreary churchyard with the darkness fast gathering around me, I asked myself these questions over and over again, till my brain ached; for I was not much used to thinking about anything in those times. At last, I could bear to sit quiet no longer. The sudden thought struck me that I would go to Leah, and learn what the matter was, from her own lips. I sprang to my feet, and set off at once towards her home.
It was quite dark, and a light rain was beginning to fall. I found the garden-gate open, and a quick hope flashed across me that George might be there. I drew back for a moment, hesitating whether to knock or ring, when a sound of voices in the passage, and the sudden gleaming of a bright line of light under the door, warned me that someone was coming out. Taken by surprise, and quite unprepared for the moment with anything to say, I shrank back behind the porch, and waited until those within should have passed out. The door opened, and the light streamed suddenly upon the roses and the wet gravel.
"It rains," said Leah, bending forward and shading the candle with her hand.
"And is as cold as Siberia," added another voice, which was not George's, and yet sounded strangely familiar. "Ugh! what a climate for such a flower as my darling to bloom in!"
"Is it so much finer in France?" asked Leah, softly.
"As much finer as blue skies and sunshine can make it. Why, my angel, even your bright eyes will be ten times brighter, and your rosy cheeks ten times rosier, when they are transplanted to Paris. Ah! I can give you no idea of the wonders of Paris -- the broad streets planted with trees, the palaces, the shops, the gardens! -- it is a city of enchantment."
"It must be, indeed!" said Leah. "And you will really take me to see all those beautiful shops?"
"Every Sunday, my darling -- Bah! don't look so shocked. The shops in Paris are always open on Sunday, and everybody makes holiday. You will soon get over these prejudices."
"I fear it is very wrong to take so much pleasure in the things of this world," sighed Leah.
The Frenchman laughed, and answered her with a kiss.
"Good night, my sweet little saint!" and he ran lightly down the path, and disappeared in the darkness. Leah sighed again, lingered a moment, and then closed the door.
Stupefied and bewildered, I stood for some seconds like a stone statue, unable to move; scarcely able to think. At length, I roused myself, as it were mechanically, and went towards the gate. At that instant a heavy hand was laid upon my shoulder, and a hoarse voice close beside my ear, said:
"Who are you? What are you doing here?"
It was George. I knew him at once, in spite of the darkness, and stammered his name. He took his hand quickly from my shoulder.
"How long have you been here?" said he, fiercely. "What right have you to lurk about, like a spy in the dark? God help me, Ben -- I'm half mad. I don't mean to be harsh to you."
"I'm sure you don't," I cried, earnestly.
"It's that cursed Frenchman," he went on, in a voice that sounded like the groan of one in pain. "He's a villain. I know he's a villain; and I've had a warning against him ever since the first moment he came among us. He'll make her miserable, and break her heart some day -- my pretty Leah -- and I loved her so! But I'll be revenged -- as sure as there's a sun in heaven, I'll be revenged!"
His vehemence terrified me. I tried to persuade him to go home; but he would not listen to me.
"No, no," he said. "Go home yourself, boy, and let me be. My blood is on fire: this rain is good for me, and I am better alone."
"If I could only do something to help you --"
"You can't," interrupted he. "Nobody can help me. I'm a ruined man, and I don't care what becomes of me. The Lord forgive me! my heart is full of wickedness, and my thoughts are the promptings of Satan. There go -- for Heaven's sake, go. I don't know what I say, or what I do!"
I went, for I did not dare refuse any longer; but I lingered a while at the corner of the street, and watched him pacing to and fro, to and fro in the driving rain. At length I turned reluctantly away, and went home.
I lay awake that night for hours, thinking over the events of the day, and hating the Frenchman from my very soul. I could not hate Leah. I had worshipped her too long and too faithfully