He hoped—for a moment—he would he
lifted up and kissed. “I’m awfully glad I brought it,” he
faltered—”that you’ve got it again.”
The other turned his kind grey eyes upon him; the smile on his face
was full of gratitude as he looked down.
“Thank you, my boy. I am truly and deeply indebted to you. You
courted danger for my sake.
Others have tried before, but the Nightmare Passage—er—” He broke
off. He tapped the stick firmly on the stone flooring, as though to
test it. Bending a trifle, he put his weight upon it.
“Ah!” he
exclaimed with a short sigh of relief, “I can now—”
His voice again grew indistinct; Tim did not catch the words.
“Yes?” he asked again, aware for the first time that a touch of awe
was in his heart.
“—get about again,” the other continued very low. “Without my
cane,” he added, the voice failing with each word the old lips
uttered, “I could not … possibly … allow myself … to be
seen. It was indeed … deplorable … unpardonable of me … to
forget in such a way. Zounds, sir…! I—I …”
His voice sank away suddenly into a sound of wind. He straightened
up, tapping the iron ferrule of his cane on the stones in a series of
loud knocks. Tim felt a strange sensation creep into his legs. The
queer words frightened him a little.
The old man took a step towards him. He still smiled, but there was
a new meaning in the smile. A sudden earnestness had replaced the
courtly, leisurely manner. The next words seemed to blow down upon the
boy from above, as though a cold wind brought them from the sky
outside.
Yet the words, he knew, were kindly meant, and very sensible. It
was only the abrupt change that startled him. Grandfather, after all,
was but a man! The distant sound recalled something in him to that
outside world from which the cold wind blew.
“My eternal thanks to you,” he heard, while the voice and face and
figure seemed to withdrew deeper and deeper into the heart of the
mighty chamber. “I shall not forget your kindness and your courage. It
is a debt I can, fortunately, one day repay … . But now you had
best return and with dispatch. For your head and arm lie heavily on
the table, the documents are scattered, there is a cushion fallen . .
.
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