"They stood apart. Like rocks which have been rent asunder,
A dreary sea now flows between,
But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder
Shall wholly do away, I ween,
The works of that which once hath been."
Coleridge.
 
"
 
O
h, Warren, what is fame compared to what I have found to-day?" she said, sweetly. "What is fame, and wealth, and all worldly honors, compared to a brother's love? But one thing more is needed now to make me perfectly happy."
"I know what you mean, Georgia—your husband. Is it possible you care for him still, after all he has made you suffer?"
 
She looked up in his face, and he was answered.
 
"Then, for your sake, I am sorry he has gone," he said slowly.
 
"Gone?" she repeated, with a paling cheek. "Gone where?"
 
"To France, on some important mission from government that no one can fulfill so well as himself, and—I have not the faintest idea of when he will return."
 
"Now that I have told you all that has befallen me," said Georgia, some half an hour later that same afternoon, as brother and sister sat side by side at the window, "I[Pg 341] want to hear your adventures and 'hair-breadth 'scapes by flood and field' since that sad night long ago, when we parted last."
 
"I fear you are doomed to be disappointed, then, if you expect any such things from me," said her brother, smiling. "My life has been one of most inglorious safety so far, and I never had a hair-breadth escape of any kind, since I was born."
 
"How strange it is that I could ever believe you dead," said Georgia, musingly. "Miss Jerusha, too, to use her own words, constantly averred that you had 'got taken in somewheres,' and never would hear for a moment that you had perished in the storm."
 
"Well, Miss Jerusha was right," said Warren, "though really I need not thank her for it, as I am quite certain, from your description, she is the old lady that turned me out that same night. However, I forgive her for that, and owe her a long debt of gratitude besides, for all she has done for you. You remember, of course, Georgia, the company we used to act with?"
 
"Yes, perfectly. Don't I remember my own performances on the tight-rope and on horseback as the 'Flying Circassian?" she said, smiling.
 
"Well, when the old lady turned me off that night, I never felt more like despairing in all my life. I was wretchedly clad—if you don't remember it, I do—and it was bitterly cold. Still, I would not go back without help of some kind, so I staggered on and on through the blinding storm, until at last, benumbed and helpless, I sank down on the frozen ground, as I thought, never to rise again."
 
"Poor little fellow!" said Georgia, sadly, in whose[Pg 342] mind the image of the slight, delicate boy he was then rose uppermost.
 
Warren laughed at the epithet applied to one who stood six feet without his boots, and went on:
 
"I suppose I had fallen into that sort of stupor which precedes freezing to death, and was unconscious; but when next I awoke to the realities of this exceedingly real world, I was in bed in a meanly furnished room, and the first face I beheld was that of Betsey Stubbs, Georgia—the one who used to figure on the bills as Eugenia De Lacy?"
 
"And always played the artless little girl, although she was thirty years old," said Georgia, laughing. "Oh, I remember her."
 
"Well, there she was, and there I was with her, and with the company again. It turned out that two of the men were passing along the road, returning to the village—what do you call it?—Burnfield, and stumbled over me, lying stiff and nearly frozen on the road. They knew me immediately, and carried me off to where the rest of them were; and it was resolved that they should decamp with me, for that old tyrant of a manager thought it too much of a good thing to lose three at once. So, in spite of my tears, and cries, and struggles and entreaties, I was forcibly carried off a little after midnight, when the storm cleared away, and brought back to the city.
 
"Well, Georgia, for nearly another year I remained at our old business, and with the old set, too closely watched to think of escaping, and to escape from them was now the sole aim of my life. The opportunity so long sought for came at last. One night a chance presented itself, and I was off; and fickle fortune, as if tired of making me a mark to poke fun at, came to my aid, and I made good[Pg 343] my escape from my jealous guardians. For hours I wandered about through the city, until at last, worn out and exhausted, I curled myself up on the marble door-steps of an aristocratic mansion, and fell fast asleep.
 
"A hand grasping my shoulder and shaking me roughly awoke me after a time, and as I started up, I heard a gruff voice saying:
 
"'Hallo! you little vagrant, what are you doing here?'
 
"I rubbed my eyes and looked up. An old gentleman, who had just alighted from a carriage, stood over me, with no very amiable expression of countenance, shaking me as if he would shake a reply out of me by main force.
 
"I stammered out something—I don't know what—and terrified lest he should give me into the hands of a policeman, I tried to break away from him and fly; but the old gentleman held on like grim death, and seemed not to have the slightest intention of parting with me so easily.
 
"'You're a pickpocket, ain't you?' said he, sharply.
 
"'No, sir,' said I, half-angrily, and looking him full in the face, 'I am not.'
 
"'Then what brought you here,' persisted he, 'if you are not a juvenile thief?'
 
"'I was tired, sir,' said I, 'and I sat down here to rest, and so fell asleep.'
 
"The old gentleman kept his sharp eyes fixed on me as if he would read me through, with a strange look of half-recognition on his face.
 
"'Please to let me go, sir,' said I, again struggling to get free.
 
"'What's your name, boy?' said the old man, without heeding me in the slightest degree.
 
"'Warren Randall Darrell,' replied I.[Pg 344]
 
"As if he had been struck, the old man loosened his hold and recoiled; and I, seizing the opportunity, darted off, but only to find myself in the grasp of a servant who stood holding the horses.
 
"'Not so fast, my little shaver,' said he, grinning; 'just you wait till Mr. Randall's done with you.'
 
"'Mr. Randall!' repeated I, and instantly a sort of conviction flashed across my mind that he might be my grandfather.
 
"At the same instant the old man approached me, and catching me by the arm, gazed long and steadily into my face, plainly revealed by the light of a street-lamp. I looked up in his agitated face quite as unflinchingly, and so we stood for nearly five minutes, to the great bewilderment of the coachman, who stared first at one and then the other, as if he thought we had both lost our senses.
 
"'Tell me,' said the old man, after a pause, 'what was your mother's maiden name?'
 
"'Alice Randall,' said I, my suspicion becoming certainty; 'and you are my grandfather.'
 
"'What!' he exclaimed, with a start. 'Do you know me? Who told you I was?'
 
"'No one,' said I; 'but I think so. My grandfather's name is Warren Randall, and that is the name on your door-plate there. I was called after him.'
 
"'You are right,' said he, in an agitated voice. 'I am your grandfather. My poor Alice! You have her eyes, boy—the same eyes that once made the light of my home. Where—tell me where is she now?'
 
"'I don't know,' said I, half-sobbing. 'She's dead, I'm afraid—she and Georgia.'
 
"'Who is Georgia?'[Pg 345]
 
"'My sister.'
 
"'And your father?' he said, with a darkening brow.
 
"'Is dead, too; has been dead this long, long time.'
 
"'And so you are an orphan, and poor and friendless,' he said, speaking as much to himself as to me. 'Poor boy! poor little fellow! Warren, will you come and live with me—with your grandfather?'
 
"I thought for a moment, and then shook my head.
 
"'No,' said I, 'I can't. I must find my mother and Georgia.'
 
"'Where are they?' he said, eagerly. 'I thought you told me they were dead.'
 
"'I said I didn't know, and I don't. They may be dead, for it is over a year since I saw them last. I was carried away from them by force, and now I am going to seek for them.'
 
"'You!' said he. 'How can a little friendless boy like you find them? No, no, Warren, stay with me, and let me search for your mother. I may succeed, but you will starve ere you find them, or be put in prison. Warren you will stay?'"
 
"And you did?" said Georgia.
 
"And I did. I answered that what he said was true, and that he was far more likely to succeed than I was. That night I slept in a princely home, with servants to come at my call—with every luxury to charm every sense around me. Was not that a sudden change, Georgia, from the miserable quarters of the players?"
 
"Yes, indeed," said Georgia. "And what change did it make in you? Did affluence spoil you?"
 
"It might have, if I had stayed long enough there," said Warren, smiling, "for I, with all my perfections—and if[Pg 346] you want a list of them just ask Miss Felice Leonard—am not infallible. I gave him my history, and he dispatched a trusty messenger to Burnfield, and upon his return he told me that both my mother and sister were dead. I believed him then, but I have since thought that, finding you provided for, he wished to keep me all to himself, and make me his sole heir.
 
"I had so long thought, Georgia, that you and my mother were dead that the revelations did not take me by surprise, and though I grieved for awhile, the novelty of everything around me kept my mind from dwelling much on my bereavement. My grandfather told me he intended to send me to school, and, when he died, make me his sole heir, on condition that I would drop the detested name of Darrell and take his. Not being very particular about the matter, I readily consented, and two months afterward I was sent to old Yale, where he himself had been educated, there to be trained in the way I should go.
 
"Well, Georgia, I remained there four years, and won golden opinions from the big wigs of the institution, and delighted the heart of my kind old grandfather by my progress in the arts and sciences. A letter announcing his sudden death recalled me at last. I hurried back to New York in time to follow him to the grave, and, when the will was read, I found myself sole heir to his almost princely wealth.
 
"Then I went to Europe and Asia, and saw all the sights, from the pyramids of Egypt down, and wrote a book about my travels, as every one does now who goes three yards from his own vine and fig-tree. Then I came home, and lo! before I have been here three months, I find[Pg 347] that my sister, who was dead, comes to life again, and so—finis!"
 
"You should add, 'And they lived happy for ever after,'" said Georgia, smiling, "only, perhaps, it would not be strictly correct. And now that you have found your sister, what do you ............