"Then _you_ know nothing?"
"Nothing! And you?"
"Nothing whatever!"
Drake bowed his head again. "I knew it was a lie--that she had gone after you--I never believed that story."
"Would to G.o.d she had!" said Storm fervently, and Drake flinched, but bore himself bravely. "When did she go?"
"Two days ago, apparently."
"Has anybody looked for her?"
"_I_ have--everywhere--everywhere I can think of. But this London----"
"Yes, yes; I know--I know!"
"For two days I have never rested, and all last night."
Storm"s eyes were watching the twitchings of Drake"s face. He had been sitting uneasily on his chair, and now he rose from it.
"Are you going already?" said Drake.
"Yes," said Storm. Then in a husky voice he added: "I don"t know if we shall ever meet again, you and I. When death breaks the link that binds people----"
"For G.o.d"s sake don"t say that!"
"But it _is_ so, isn"t it?"
"Heaven knows! Certainly the letter she left behind--the letter to Rosa---- Poor child, she was such a creature of joy--so bright, so brilliant! And then to think of her---- I was much to blame--I came between you. But if I had once realized----"
Drake stopped, and the men fixed their eyes on each other for a moment, and then turned their heads away.
"I"m afraid I"ve done you a great injustice, sir," said Storm.
"Me?"
"I thought she was only your toy, your plaything. But perhaps" (his voice was breaking)--"perhaps you loved her too."
Drake answered, almost inaudibly, "With all my heart and soul!"
"Then--then we have _both_ lost her!"
"Both!"
There was silence for a moment. The hands of the two men met and clasped and parted.
"I must go," said Storm, and he moved across the room with a look of utter weariness.
"But where are you going to?"
"I don"t know--anywhere--nowhere--it doesn"t matter now."
"Well----"
"Good-night!"
"Good-night!"
Drake stood at the door below until the slow, uncertain footsteps had turned the corner of the street and died away.
John Storm was sure now. Overwhelmed by his own disgrace, ashamed of his downfall, and perhaps with a sense of her own share in it, Glory had destroyed herself.
Strange contradiction! Much as he had hated Glory"s way of life, there came to him at the moment a deep remorse at the thought that he had been the means of putting an end to it. And then her gay and happy spirit clouded by his own disasters! Her good name stained by a.s.sociation with his evil one! Her pure soul imperilled by his sin and fall!
But it was now very late and he began to ask himself where he was to sleep. At first he thought of his old quarters under the church, and then he told himself that Brother Andrew would be gone by this time, and that everything connected with the parish must be transferred to other keeping. Going by a hotel in Trafalgar Square he stepped in and asked for a bed.
"Certainly, sir," said the clerk, who was polite and deferential.
"Can I have something to eat, too?"
"Coffee-room to the left, sir. Luggage coming, sir?"
"I have no luggage to-night," he answered, and then he saw that the clerk looked at him doubtfully.
The coffee-room was empty and only half lit up, for dinner was long over and the business of the day was done. John was sitting at his meal, eating his food with his eyes down and hardly conscious of what was going on around, when he became aware that from time to time people opened the room door and looked across at him, then whispered together and pa.s.sed out. At length the clerk came up to him with awkward manners and a look of constraint.
"I beg your pardon, sir, but--are you Father Storm?"
John bent his head.
"Then I"m sorry to say we can not accommodate you--we dare not--we must request you to leave."
John rose without a word, paid his bill, and left the place.
But where was he to go to? What house would receive him? If one hotel refused him, all other hotels in London would do the same. Then he remembered the shelter which he had himself established for the undeserving poor. The humiliation of that moment was terrible. But no matter! He would drink the cup of G.o.d"s anger to the dregs.
The lamp was burning in the clock tower of the Houses of Parliament, and as John pa.s.sed by the corner of Palace Yard two Bishops came out in earnest conversation, and walked on in front of him.
"The State and the Church are as the body and soul," said one, "and to separate them would be death to both."
"Just that," said the other, "and therefore we must fight for the Church"s temporal possessions as we should contend for her spiritual rights; and so these Benefice Bills----"
The shelter was at the point of closing, and Jupe was putting out the lamp over the door as John stepped up to him.
"Who is it?" said Jupe in the dark.
"Don"t you know me, Jupe?" said John.