The Trial [124]
drawing him to his seat on the bed, as, indeed, the violence of the paroxysm made him scarcely able to stand. 'Let it have its way; you will be all the better for it. It ought to be so--it must.' And in tears himself, the Doctor turned his back, and went as far away as the cell would permit, turning towards the books that lay on a narrow ledge that served for a table. 'How long, 0 Lord, how long?' were the words that caught his eye in the open Psalms; and, startled as if at unauthorized prying, he looked up at the dull screened and spiked window above his head, till he knew by the sounds that the worst of the uncontrollable passion had spent itself, and then he came back with the towel dipped in water, and cooled the flushed heated face as a sister might have done. 'Oh--thank you--I am ashamed,' gasped the still sobbing boy. 'Ashamed! No; I like you the better for it,' said the Doctor, earnestly. 'There is no need that we should not grieve together in this great affliction, and say out all that is in our hearts.' 'All!' exclaimed Leonard. 'No--no words can say that! Oh! was it for such as this that my poor mother made so much of me--and I got through the fever--and I hoped--and I strove-- Why--why should I be cut off--for a disgrace and a misery to all! and again came the heart-broken sobs, though less violently. 'Not to those who look within, and honour you, Leonard.' 'Within! Why, how bad I have been, since _this_ is the reckoning! I deserve it, I know--but--' and his voice again sank in tears. 'Ethel says that your so feeling comforts her the most; to know that you have not the terrible struggle of faith disturbed by injustice.' 'If--I have not,' said Leonard, 'it is her doing. In those happy days when we read Marmion, and could not believe that God would not always show the right, she showed me how we only see bits and scraps of His Justice here, and it works round in the end! Nay, if I had not done that thing to Henry, I should not be here now! It is right! It is right!' he exclaimed between the heaving sobs that still recurred. 'I do try to keep before me what she said about Job--when it comes burning before me, why should that man be at large, and I here? or when I think how his serpent-eye fell under mine when I tried that one word about the receipt, that would save my life. Oh! that receipt!' 'Better to be here than in his place, after all!' 'I'd rather be a street-sweeper!' bitterly began Leonard.--'Oh, Dr. May, do let me have that!' he cried, suddenly changing his tone, and holding out his hand, as he perceived in the Doctor's button-hole a dove-pink, presented at a cottage door by a grateful patient. For a space he was entirely occupied with gazing into its crimson depths, inhaling the fragrance, and caressingly spreading the cool damask petals against his hot cheeks and eyelids. 'It is so long since I saw anything but walls!' he said. 'Three weeks,' sadly replied the Doctor. 'There was a gleam of sunshine when I got out of the van yesterday. I never knew before what sunshine was. I hope it will be a sunny day when I go out for the last time!' 'My dear boy, I have good hopes of saving you. There's not a creature in Stoneborough, or round it, that is not going to petition for you--and at your age--' Leonard shook his head in dejection. 'It has all gone against me,' he said. 'They all say there's no chance. The chaplain says it is of no use unsettling my mind.' 'The chaplain is an old--' began Dr. May, catching himself up only just in time, and asking, 'How do you get on with him!' 'I can hear him read,' said Leonard, with the look that had been thought sullen. 'But you cannot talk to him?' 'Not while he thinks me guilty.' Then, at a sound of warm sympathy from his friend, he added, 'I suppose it is his duty; but I wish he would keep away. I can't stand his aiming at making me confess, and I don't want to be disrespectful.' 'I see, I see. It cannot be otherwise. But how would it be if Wilmot came to you?' 'Would Mr. May?' said Leonard, with a beseeching look. 'Richard? He would with all