However, there were times when even Faith was lost in sad remembrance,
and her bright young spirit became depressed by the hope deferred that
maketh sick the heart. As time grew longer, hope grew less; and even the
cheerful Admiral, well versed in perils of the deep, and acquainted with
many a wandering story, had made up his mind that Erle Twemlow was
dead, and would never more be heard of. The rector also, the young man's
father, could hold out no longer against that conclusion; and even the
mother, disdaining the mention, yet understood the meaning, of despair.
And so among those to whom the subject was the most interesting in the
world, it was now the strict rule to avoid it with the lips, though the
eyes were often filled with it.
Faith Darling at first scorned this hard law. "It does seem so unkind,"
she used to say, "that even his name should be interdicted, as if he had
disgraced himself. If he is dead, he has died with honour. None who ever
saw him can doubt that. But he is not dead. He will come back to us,
perhaps next week, perhaps to-morrow, perhaps even while we are afraid
to speak of him. If it is for my sake that you behave thus, I am not
quite so weak as to require it."
The peculiar circumstances of the case had not only baffled enquiry,
but from the very beginning precluded it. The man with the keenest eyes,
sharpest nose, biggest ears, and longest head, of all the many sneaks
who now conduct what they call "special enquiries," could have done
nothing with a case like this, because there was no beginning it.
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