Rose turned from him with a cold look of sorrowful
reproach. And then he saw Wildney, and cried out to him, "O Charlie,
save me;" but Charlie ran away, saying, "Williams, you are a thief!" and
then a chorus of voices took up that awful cry, voices of expostulation,
voices of contempt, voices of indignation, voices of menace; they took
up the cry, and repeated and re-echoed it; but, most unendurable of all,
there were voices of wailing and voices of gentleness among them, and
his soul died within him as he caught, amid the confusion of condemning
sounds, the voices of Russell and Vernon, and they, too, were saying to
him, in tender pity and agonized astonishment, "Eric, Eric, you are
a thief!"
CHAPTER XI
REAPING THE WHIRLWIND
"For alas! alas! with me
The light of life is o'er;
No more--no more--no more
(Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
Or the stricken eagle soar!"
EDGAR A.
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