Page:Braddon--The Trail of the Serpent.djvu/75

Rh "Oh, yes, deary, you're a nice young man, and a clever, civil-spoken young man, and a credit to them that reared you; but you'll never have the golden secret out of me till you've got the money to pay for it."

light had gone down on the last of the days through which, according to the doctor's prophecy, Jim Lomax was to live to see that light.

Poor Jim's last sun sank to his rest upon such cloud-pillows of purple and red, and drew a curtain of such gorgeous colours round him in the western sky, as it would have very much puzzled any earthly monarch to have matched, though Buskin himself had chosen the colours, and Turner had been the man to lay them on. Of course some of this red sunset nickered and faded upon the chimney-pots and window-panes—rare luxuries, by the bye, those window-panes—of Blind Peter; but there it came in a modified degree only—this blessed sign-manual of an Almighty Power—as all earthly and heavenly blessings should come to the poor.

One ray of the crimson light fell full upon the face of the sick man, and slanted from him upon the dark hair of the girl, who sat on the ground in her old position by the bedside. This light, which fell on them and on no other object in the dusky room, seemed to unite them, as though it were a messenger from the sky that said, "They stand alone in the world, and never have been meant to stand asunder."

"It's a beautiful light, lass," said the sick man, "and I wonder I never cared more to notice or to watch it than I have. Lord, I've seen it many a time sinking behind the sharp edge of ploughed land, as if it had dug its own grave, and was glad to go down to it, and I've thought no more of it than a bit of candle; but now it seems such a beautiful light, and I feel as if I should like to see it again, lass."

"And you will—you will see it again, Jim." She drew his head upon her bosom, and stroked the rough hair away from his damp forehead. She was half dead herself, with want, anxiety, and fatigue; but she spoke in a cheerful voice. She had not shed a tear throughout his illness. "Lord help you, Jim dear, you'll live to see many and many a bright sunset— live to see it go down upon our wedding-day, perhaps."

"No, no, lass; that's a day no sun will ever shine upon. You must get another sweetheart, and a bettor one, maybe.