第146章

Three days later I received a brief note in which she managed to convey to me,though tenderly and compassionately,that her decision was unalterable.If I came on,she would refuse to see me.I took the afternoon stage and went back to the city,to plunge into affairs again;but for weeks my torture was so acute that it gives me pain to recall it,to dwell upon it to-day....And yet,amazing as it may seem,there came a time when hope began to dawn again out of my despair.Perhaps my life had not been utterly shattered,after all:perhaps Ham Durrett would get well:such things happened,and Nancy would no longer have an excuse for continuing to refuse me.Little by little my anger at what I had now become convinced was her weakness cooled,and--though paradoxically I had continued to love her in spite of the torture for which she was responsible,in spite of the resentment I felt,I melted toward her.

True to my habit of reliance on miracles,I tried to reconcile myself to a period of waiting.

Nevertheless I was faintly aware--consequent upon if not as a result of this tremendous experience--of some change within me.It was not only that I felt at times a novel sense of uneasiness at being a prey to accidents,subject to ravages of feeling;the unity of mind that had hitherto enabled me to press forward continuously toward a concrete goal showed signs of breaking up:--the goal had lost its desirability.Iseemed oddly to be relapsing into the states of questioning that had characterized my earlier years.Perhaps it would be an exaggeration to say that I actually began to speculate on the possible existence of a realm where the soul might find a refuge from the buffetings of life,from which the philosophy of prosperity was powerless to save it....

XXIV.

It was impossible,of course,that my friends should have failed to perceive the state of disorganization I was in,and some of them at least must have guessed its cause.Dickinson,on his return from Maine,at once begged me to go away.I rather congratulated myself that Tom had chosen these months for a long-delayed vacation in Canada.His passion for fishing still persisted.

In spite of the fact I have noted,that I had lost a certain zest for results,to keep busy seemed to be the only way to relieve my mind of an otherwise intolerable pressure:and I worked sometimes far into the evening.In the background of my thoughts lay the necessity of coming to a decision on the question of the senatorship;several times Dickinson and Gorse had spoken of it,and I was beginning to get letters from influential men in other parts of the state.They seemed to take it for granted that there was no question of my refusing.The time came when Ihad grown able to consider the matter with a degree of calmness.What struck me first,when I began to debate upon it,was that the senatorship offered a new and possibly higher field for my energies,while at the same time the office would be a logical continuation of a signal legal career.I was now unable to deny that I no longer felt any exhilaration at the prospect of future legal conquests similar to those of the past;but once in the Senate,I might regain something of that intense conviction of fighting for a just and sound cause with which Theodore Wading had once animated me:fighting there,in the Capitol at Washington,would be different;no stigma of personal gain attached to it;it offered a nearer approach to the ideal I had once more begun to seek,held out hopes of a renewal of my unity of mind.Mr.Watling had declared that there was something to fight for;I had even glimpsed that something,but I had to confess that for some years I had not been consciously fighting for it.I needed something to fight for.

There was the necessity,however,of renewing my calculations.If Hambleton Durrett should recover,even during the ensuing year,and if Nancy relented it would not be possible for us to be divorced and married for some time.I still clung tenaciously to the belief that there were no relationships wholly unaffected by worldly triumphs,and as Senator Ishould have strengthened my position.It did not strike me--even after all my experience--that such a course as I now contemplated had a parallel in the one that I had pursued in regard to her when I was young.

It seemed fitting that Theodore Watling should be the first to know of my decision.I went to Washington to meet him.It pained me to see him looking more worn,but he was still as cheerful,as mentally vigorous as ever,and I perceived that he did not wish to dwell upon his illness.Idid venture to expostulate with him on the risk he must be running in serving out his term.We were sitting in the dining room of his house.

"We've only one life to live,Hugh,"he answered,smiling at me,"and we might as well get all out of it we can.A few years more or less doesn't make much difference--and I ought to be satisfied.I'd resign now,to please my wife,to please my friends,but we can't trust this governor to appoint a safe man.How little we suspected when we elected him that he'd become infected.You never can tell,in these days,can you?"It was the note of devotion to his cause that I had come to hear:I felt it renewing me,as I had hoped.The threat of disease,the louder clamourings of the leaders of the mob had not sufficed to dismay him--though he admitted more concern over these.My sympathy and affection were mingled with the admiration he never failed to inspire.

"But you,Hugh,"he said concernedly,"you're not looking very well,my son.You must manage to take a good rest before coming here--before the campaign you'll have to go through.We can't afford to have anything happen to you--you're too young."I wondered whether he had heard anything....He spoke to me again about the work to be done,the work he looked to me to carry on.