Chapter XLIII

Her momentary weakness past, the child again summoned the

resolution which had until now sustained her, and, endeavouring to

keep steadily in her view the one idea that they were flying from

disgrace and crime, and that her grandfather's preservation must

depend solely on her firmness, unaided by one word of advice or any

helping hand, urged him onward and looked back no more.

While he, subdued and abashed, seemed to crouch before her, and to

shrink and cower down, as if in the presence of some superior

creature, the child herself was sensible of a new feeling within her,

which elevated her nature, and inspired her with an energy and

confidence she had never known. There was no divided responsibility

now; the whole burden of their two lives had fallen upon her, and

henceforth she must think and act for both. 'I have saved him,' she

thought. 'In all dangers and distresses, I will remember that.'

At any other time, the recollection of having deserted the friend who

had shown them so much homely kindness, without a word of

justification - the thought that they were guilty, in appearance, of

treachery and ingratitude - even the having parted from the two

sisters - would have filled her with sorrow and regret. But now, all

other considerations were lost in the new uncertainties and anxieties

of their wild and wandering life; and the very desperation of their

condition roused and stimulated her.

In the pale moonlight, which lent a wanness of its own to the delicate

face where thoughtful care already mingled with the winning grace

and loveliness of youth, the too bright eye, the spiritual head, the lips

that pressed each other with such high resolve and courage of the

heart, the slight figure firm in its bearing and yet so very weak, told

their silent tale; but told it only to the wind that rustled by, which,

taking up its burden, carried, perhaps to some mother's pillow, faint

dreams of childhood fading in its bloom, and resting in the sleep that

knows no waking.

The night crept on apace, the moon went down, the stars grew pale

and dim, and morning, cold as they, slowly approached. Then, from

behind a distant hill, the noble sun rose up, driving the mists in

phantom shapes before it, and clearing the earth of their ghostly

forms till darkness came again. When it had climbed higher into the

sky, and there was warmth in its cheerful beams, they laid them down

to sleep, upon a bank, hard by some water.

But Nell retained her grasp upon the old man's arm, and long after he

was slumbering soundly, watched him with untiring eyes. Fatigue

The Old Curiosity Shop