| 519 | 520 | 521 | 522 | 523 |
| 1 | 133 | 265 | 398 | 530 |
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On that one theme, which was in his and all their minds, it was
impossible to touch. Dead! He could not hear or bear the word. The
slightest hint of it would throw him into a paroxysm, like that he had
had when it was first spoken. In what hope he lived, no man could
tell; but that he had some hope of finding her again - some faint and
shadowy hope, deferred from day to day, and making him from day to
day more sick and sore at heart - was plain to all.
They bethought them of a removal from the scene of this last sorrow;
of trying whether change of place would rouse or cheer him. His
brother sought the advice of those who were accounted skilful in such
matters, and they came and saw him. Some of the number staid upon
the spot, conversed with him when he would converse, and watched
him as he wandered up and down, alone and silent. Move him where
they might, they said, he would ever seek to get back there. His mind
would run upon that spot. If they confined him closely, and kept a
strict guard upon him, they might hold him prisoner, but if he could
by any means escape, he would surely wander back to that place, or
die upon the road.
The boy, to whom he had submitted at first, had no longer any
influence with him. At times he would suffer the child to walk by his
side, or would even take such notice of his presence as giving him his
hand, or would stop to kiss his cheek, or pat him on the head. At
other times, he would entreat him - not unkindly - to be gone, and
would not brook him near. But, whether alone, or with this pliant
friend, or with those who would have given him, at any cost or
sacrifice, some consolation or some peace of mind, if happily the
means could have been devised; he was at all times the same - with
no love or care for anything in life - a broken-hearted man.
At length, they found, one day, that he had risen early, and, with his
knapsack on his back, his staff in hand, her own straw hat, and little
basket full of such things as she had been used to carry, was gone. As
they were making ready to pursue him far and wide, a frightened
schoolboy came who had seen him, but a moment before, sitting in
the church - upon her grave, he said.
They hastened there, and going softly to the door, espied him in the
attitude of one who waited patiently. They did not disturb him then,
but kept a watch upon him all that day. When it grew quite dark, he
rose and returned home, and went to bed, murmuring to himself, 'She
will come to-morrow!'
Upon the morrow he was there again from sunrise until night; and
still at night he laid him down to rest, and murmured, 'She will come
to-morrow!'
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