The Two Destinies

by Wilkie Collins

forgot the presence of the Sibyl bending over her book. I tookthe little workwoman in my arms, and kissed her till I was fairly out ofbreath and could kiss no longer.

  "Mary!" I burst out, in the first heat of my enthusiasm, "my father iscoming home to-day. I will speak to him to-night. And I will marry youto-morrow!"

  "Boy!" said the awful voice at the other end of the room. "Come here."

  Dame Dermody's mystic book was closed; Dame Dermody's weird black eyeswere watching us in our corner. I approached her; and Mary followed metimidly, by a footstep at a time.

  The Sibyl took me by the hand, with a caressing gentleness which was newin my experience of her.

  "Do you prize that toy?" she inquired, looking at the flag. "Hide it!"she cried, before I could answer. "Hide it--or it may be taken fromyou!"

  "Why should I hide it?" I asked. "I want to fly it at the mast of myboat."

  "You will never fly it at the mast of your boat!" With that answer shetook the flag from me and thrust it impatiently into the breast-pocketof my jacket.

  "Don't crumple it, grandmother!" said Mary, piteously.

  I repeated my question:

  "Why shall I never fly it at the mast of my boat?"

  Dame Dermody laid her hand on the closed volume of Swedenborg lying inher lap.

  "Three times I have opened this book since the morning," she said."Three times the words of the prophet warn me that there is troublecoming. Children, it is trouble that is coming to You. I look there,"she went on, pointing to the place where a ray of sunlight pouredslanting into the room, "and I see my husband in the heavenly light. Hebows his head in grief, and he points his unerring hand at You. Georgeand Mary, you are consecrated to each other! Be always worthy of yourconsecration; be always worthy of yourselves." She paused. Her voicefaltered. She looked at us with softening eyes, as those look who knowsadly that there is a parting at hand. "Kneel!" she said, in low tonesof awe and grief. "It may be the last time I bless you--it may be thelast time I pray over you, in this house. Kneel!"

  We knelt close together at her feet. I could feel Mary's heartthrobbing, as she pressed nearer and nearer to my side. I could feel myown heart quickening its beat, with a fear that was a mystery to me.

  "God bless and keep George and Mary, here and hereafter! God prosper,in future days, the union which God's wisdom has willed! Amen. So be it.Amen."

  As the last words fell from her lips the cottage door was thrust open.My father--followed by the bailiff--entered the room.

  Dame Dermody got slowly on her feet, and looked at him with a sternscrutiny.

  "It has come," she said to herself. "It looks with the eyes--it willspeak with the voice--of that man."

  My father broke the silence that followed, addressing himself to thebailiff.

  "You see, Dermody," he said, "here is my son in your cottage--when heought to be in my house." He turned, and looked at me as I stood withmy arm round little Mary, patiently waiting for my opportunity to speak."George," he said, with the hard smile which was peculiar to him,when he was angry and was trying to hide it, "you are making a fool ofyourself there. Leave that child, and come to me."

  Now, or never, was my time to declare myself. Judging by appearances,I was still a boy. Judging by my own sensations, I had developed into aman at a moment's notice.

  "Papa," I said, "I am glad to see you home again. This is Mary Dermody.I am in love with her, and she is in love with me. I wish to marry heras soon as it is convenient to my mother and you."

  My father burst out laughing. Before I could speak again, his humorchanged. He had observed that Dermody, too, presumed to be amused. Heseemed to become mad with anger, all in a moment.

  "I have been told of this infernal tomfoolery," he said, "but I didn'tbelieve it till now. Who has turned the boy's weak head? Who hasencouraged him to stand there hugging that girl? If it's you, Dermody,it shall be the worst day's work you ever did in your life." He turnedto me again, before the bailiff could defend himself. "Do you hear whatI say? I tell you to leave Dermody's girl, and come home with me."

  "Yes, papa," I answered. "But I must go back to Mary, if you please,after I have been with you."

  Angry as he was, my father was positively staggered by my audacity.

  "You young idiot, your insolence exceeds belief!" he burst out. "I tellyou this: you will never darken these doors again! You have been taughtto disobey me here. You have had things put into your head, here, whichno boy of your age ought to know--I'll say more, which no decent peoplewould have let you know."

  "I beg your pardon, sir," Dermody interposed, very respectfully and veryfirmly at the same time. "There are many things which a master in a hottemper is privileged to say to the man who serves him. But you have gonebeyond your privilege. You have shamed me, sir, in the presence of mymother, in the hearing of my child--"

  My father checked him there.

  "You may spare the rest of it," he said. "We are master and servantno longer. When my son came hanging about your cottage, and playing atsweethearts with your girl there, your duty was to close the door onhim. You have failed in your duty. I trust you no longer. Take a month'snotice, Dermody. You leave my service."

  The bailiff steadily met my father on his ground. He was no longer theeasy, sweet-tempered, modest man who was the man of my remembrance.

  "I beg to decline taking your month's notice, sir," he answered. "Youshall have no opportunity of repeating what you have just said to me.I will send in my accounts to-night. And I will leave your serviceto-morrow."

  "We agree for once," retorted my father. "The sooner you go, thebetter."

  He stepped across the room and put his hand on my shoulder.

  "Listen to me," he said, making a last effort to control himself. "Idon't want to quarrel with you before a discarded servant. There must bean end to this nonsense. Leave these people to pack up and go, and comeback to the house with me."

  His heavy hand, pressing on my shoulder, seemed to press the spiritof resistance out of me. I so far gave way as to try to melt him byentreaties.

  "Oh, papa! papa!" I cried. "Don't part me from Mary! See how pretty andgood she is! She has made me a flag for my boat. Let me come here andsee her sometimes. I can't live without her."

  I could say no more. My poor little Mary burst out crying. Her tears andmy entreaties were alike wasted on my father.

  "Take your choice," he said, "between coming away of your own accord, orobliging me to take you away by force. I mean to part you and Dermody'sgirl."

  "Neither you nor any man can part them," interposed a voice, speakingbehind us. "Rid your mind of that notion, master, before it is toolate."

  My father looked round quickly, and discovered Dame Dermody facing himin the full light of the window. She had stepped back, at the outsetof the dispute, into the corner behind the fireplace. There she hadremained, biding her time to speak, until my father's last threatbrought her out of her place of retirement.

  They looked at each other for a moment. My father seemed to think itbeneath his dignity to answer her. He went on with what he had to say tome.

  "I shall count three slowly," he resumed. "Before I get to the lastnumber, make up your mind to do what I tell you, or submit to thedisgrace of being taken away by force."

  "Take him where you may," said Dame Dermody, "he will still be on hisway to his marriage with my grandchild."

  "And where shall I be, if you please?" asked my father, stung intospeaking to her this time.

  The answer followed instantly in these startling words:

  "_You_ will be on your way to your ruin and your death."

  My father turned his back on the prophetess with a smile of contempt.

  "One!" he said, beginning to count.

  I set my teeth, and clasped both arms round Mary as he spoke. I hadinherited some of his temper, and he was now to know it.

  "Two!" proceeded my father, after waiting a little.

  Mary put her trembling lips to my ear, and whispered: "Let me
go,George! I can't bear to see it. Oh, look how he frowns! I know he'llhurt you."

  My father lifted his forefinger as a preliminary warning before hecounted Three.

  "Stop!" cried Dame Dermody.

  My father looked round at her again with sardonic astonishment.

  "I beg your pardon, ma'am--have you anything particular to say to me?"he asked.

  "Man!" returned the Sibyl, "you speak lightly. Have I spoken lightly toYou? I warn you to bow your wicked will before a Will that is mightierthan yours. The spirits of these