A thousand! Only
think of it! I wished it had been a million, and so faithful was I to
my trust that I swore in my soul I would deliver them, every one.
And Jane loved me! No more walking on the hard, prosaic earth now;
from this time forth I would fly; that was the only sensible method of
locomotion. Mary had said: "She told me so." Could it really be true?
You will at once see what an advantage this bit of information was to
me.
I hoped that Jane would wish to see me to talk over Mary's escape--so
I sent word to her that I was waiting, and she quickly enough
recovered her health and came down. I suggested that we walk out to a
secluded little summer-house by the river, and Jane was willing. Ah!
my opportunity was here at last.
She found her bonnet, and out we went. What an enchanting walk was
that, and how rich is a man who has laid up such treasures of memory
to grow the sweeter as he feeds upon them. A rich memory is better
than hope, for it lasts after fruition, and serves us at a time when
hope has failed and fruition is but--a memory.
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