Page:Braddon--The Trail of the Serpent.djvu/17

Rh Draw a curtain over the agitation and the bewilderment of that scene. The almost broken-hearted mother's joy is too sacred for words. And the passionate tears of the prodigal son—who shall measure the remorseful agony of a man whose life has been one long career of recklessness, and who sees his sin written in his mother's face?

The mother and son sit together, talking gravely, hand in hand, for two long hours. He tells her, not of all his follies, but of all his regrets—his punishment, his anguish, his penitence, and his resolutions for the future.

Surely it is for good, and good alone, that he has come over a long and dreary road, through toil and suffering, to kneel here at his mother's feet and build up fair schemes for the future. The old servant, who has known Richard from a baby, shares in his mother's joy. After the slight supper which the weary wanderer is induced to eat, her brother and her son persuade Mrs. Marwood to retire to rest; and left tête-à-tête, the uncle and nephew sit down to discuss a bottle of old madeira by the sea-coal fire.

"My dear Richard"—the young man's name is Richard—("Daredevil Dick" he has been called by his wild companions)—"My dear Richard," says Mr. Harding very gravely, "I am about to say something to you, which I trust you will take in good part."

"I am not so used to kind words from good men that I am likely to take anything you can say amiss."

"You will not, then, doubt the joy I feel in your return this night, if I ask you what are your plans for the future?"

The young man shook his head. Poor Richard! he had never in his life had any definite plan for the future, or he might not have been what he was that night.

"My poor boy, I believe you have a noble heart, but you have led a wasted life. This must be repaired."

Richard shook his head again. He was very hopeless of himself.

"I am good for nothing," he said; "I am a bad lot. I wonder they don't hang such men as me."

"I wonder they don't hang such men." He uttered this reckless speech in his own reckless way, as if it would be rather a good joke to be hung up out of the way and done for.

"My dear boy, thank Heaven you have returned to us. Now I have a plan to make a man of you yet."

Richard looked up this time with a hopeful light in his dark eyes. He was hopeless at five minutes past ten; he was radiant when the minute hand had moved on to the next figure on the