y
impetuosity of his assault. Temple escaped. Then it was that the latter,
shaken by fear, revealed to his brother the rise of progress of his
intimacy with the discarded girl, and, in his extremity, called upon him
for advice and help. He could afford him none; and the seducer found
himself in the world without an hour's happiness or quiet. What quails
so readily as the heartiest soul of the sensualist? Who so cowardly as
the man only courageous in his oppression of the weak? The spirit of
Temple was laid prostrate. He walked, and eat, and slept, in base and
dastard fear. Locks and bolts could not secure him from dismal
apprehensions. A sound shook him, as the unseen wind makes the tall
poplar shudder--a voice struck terror in his ear, and sickness to
recreant heart. He could not be alone--for alarm was heightened by the
speaking conscience that pronounced it just. He journeyed from place to
place, his brother ever at his side, and the shadow of the avenger ever
stalking in the rear, and impelling the weary wanderer still onward. The
health of the sufferer gave way. To preserve his life, he was ordered to
the south-western coast. His faithful brother was his companion still.
He had not received a week's benefit from the mild and grateful
climate--he was scarcely settled in the tranquil village in which they
had fixed their residence, before the old terror was made manifest, and
hunted the unhappy man away. Whilst sitting at his window, and gazing
with something of delight upon the broad and smooth blue sea--for who
can look, criminal though he be, upon that glorious sheet in summer
time, when the sky is bright with beauty, and the golden sun is high,
and not lose somewhat of the heavy sense of guilt--not glow, it may be,
with returning gush of childhood's innocence, long absent, and coming now
only to reproach and then depart?--whilst sitting there and thus, the
sick man's notice was invited to a crowd of yelling boys, who had
amongst them one, the tallest of their number, whom they dragged along
for punishment or sport. He was an idiot. Who he was none knew so well
as the pale man that looked upon him, who could not drag his eye away,
so lost was it in wonder, so transfixed with horror. The invalid
remained no longer there. Fast as horses could convey him, he journeyed
homeward; and, in the bosom of his natural protectors, he sought for
peace he could not gain elsewhere. Here he remained, the slave of fear,
the conscie