But
the worst had yet to come. When he arrived at his old home and found
it occupied by strangers his heart sank within him; on enquiring for
Mrs. Fairfield he was informed that she had gone to America with her
servant Bertrand. Grasping the railings to keep himself from falling,
the poor stricken man gazed wildly at his informant, as though
stunned by a severe blow; then gasping out an apology of some kind
he rushed along the street like a madman, stopping not till he had
got far out into the open country. There, throwing himself headlong
on the grass, he shed tears of anguish, moaning as if in bodily pain.
"Why did I not go down with the ship?" he cried bitterly; "Was it
for this I toiled twice over on the open sea? Ah, why was I ever
born to be tossed about, imprisoned, and deserted?"
For hours he lay insensible on the grass, till the cool evening air,
bringing his mind once more into activity, he arose with a groan,
and slowly retraced his steps, not caring whither he went. Passing
along the quay he looked at the dark, sullen water, and for a moment
was impelled to cast himself in and so put an end to his misery, but
something in his better nature restrained him, and he walked moodily
along to where an ocean steamer lay preparing for sea.
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