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The Black Robe-Part37_WILKIE COLLINS (1824-1899)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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who loves him. Stella had submitted with a proud and silent

resignation--the most unfortunate form of protest that she could



have adopted toward a man of Romayne's temper. When she now

appeared, however, in her husband's study, there was a change in



her expression which he instantly noticed. She looked at him with

eyes softened by sorrow. Before she could answer his first



question, he hurriedly added another. "Is Penrose really ill?"

"No, Lewis. He is distressed."



"About what?"

"About you, and about himself."



"Is he going to leave us?"

"Yes."



"But he will come back again?"

Stella took a chair by her husband's side. "I am truly sorry for



you, Lewis," she said. "It is even a sad parting for Me. If you

will let me say it, I have a sincere regard for dear Mr.



Penrose."

Under other circumstances, this confession of feeling for the man



who had sacrificed his dearest aspiration to the one

consideration of her happiness, might have provoked a sharp



reply. But by this time Romayne had really become alarmed. "You

speak as if Arthur was going to leave England," he said.



"He leaves England this afternoon," she answered, "for Rome."

"Why does he tell this to you, and not to me?" Romayne asked.



"He cannot trust himself to speak of it to you. He begged me to

prepare you--"



Her courage failed her. She paused. Romayne beat his hand

impatiently on the desk before him. "Speak out!" he cried. "If



Rome is not the end of the journey--what is?"

Stella hesitated no longer.



"He goes to Rome," she said "to receive his instructions, and to

become personally acquainted with the missionaries who are



associated with him. They will leave Leghorn in the next vessel

which sets sail for a port in Central America. And the dangerous



duty intrusted to them is to re-establish one of the Jesuit

Missions destroyed by the savages years since. They will find



their church a ruin, and not a vestige left of the house once

inhabited by the murdered priests. It is not concealed from them



that they may be martyred, too. They are soldiers of the Cross;

and they go--willingly go--to save the souls of the Indians, at



the peril of their lives."

Romayne rose, and advanced to the door. There, he turned, and



spoke to Stella. "Where is Arthur?" he said.

Stella gently detained him.



"There was one word more he entreated me to say--pray wait and

hear it," she pleaded. "His one grief is at leaving You. Apart



from that, he devotes himself gladly to the dreadful service

which claims him. He has long looked forward to it, and has long



prepared himself for it. Those, Lewis, are his own words."

There was a knock at the door. The servant appeared, to announce



that the carriage was waiting.

Penrose entered the room as the man left it.



"Have you spok en for me?" he said to Stella. She could only

answer him by a gesture. He turned to Romayne with a faint smile.



"The saddest of all words must be spoken," he said. "Farewell!"

Pale and trembling, Romayne took his hand. "Is this Father



Benwell's doing?" he asked.

"No!" Penrose answered firmly. "In Father Benwell's position it



might have been his doing, but for his goodness to me. For the

first time since I have known him he has shrunk from a



responsibility. For my sake he has left it to Rome. And Rome has

spoken. Oh, my more than friend--my brother in love--!"



His voice failed him. With a resolution which was nothing less

than heroic in a man of his affectionate nature, he recovered his



composure.

"Let us make it as little miserable as it _can_ be," he said. "At



every opportunity we will write to each other. And, who knows--I

may yet come back to you? God has preserved his servants in



dangers as great as any that I shall encounter. May that merciful

God bless and protect you! Oh, Romayne, what happy days we have



had together!" His last powers of resistance were worn out. Tears

of noble sorrow dimmed the friendly eyes which had never once



looked unkindly on the brother of his love. He kissed Romayne.

"Help me out!" he said, turning blindly toward the hall, in which






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