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Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan, 1814-1873

"The House by the Church-Yard"

The thought that he would slip
through his fingers, and the clue to vindication, fortune, and
happiness, be for ever lost, was altogether so dreadful that we must
excuse his forgetting for a moment his promise, and dismissing patience,
and even policy, from his thoughts.
But 'twas a transitory temptation only, and common sense seconded
honour. For he was persuaded that whatever likelihood there was of
leading Irons to the critical point, there was none of driving him
thither; and that Irons, once restive and impracticable, all his hopes
would fall to the ground.
'I am going,' said Irons, with quiet abruptness; 'and right glad the
storm's up still,' he added, in a haggard rumination, and with a strange
smile of suffering. 'In dark an' storm--curse him!--I see his face
everywhere. I don't know how he's got this hold over me,' and he cursed
him again and groaned dismally. 'A night like this is my chance--and so
here goes.'
'Remember, for Heaven's sake, remember,' said Mervyn, with agonised
urgency, as he followed him with a light along the passage to the
back-door.
Irons made no answer; and walking straight on, without turning his head,
only lifted his hand with a movement backward, like a man who silently
warns another from danger.


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