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night, needs not to be told. Next morning Nicholas and his feeble
companion began their journey.

And who but one--and that one he who, but for those who
crowded round him then, had never met a look of kindness, or
known a word of pity--could tell what agony of mind, what
blighted thoughts, what unavailing sorrow, were involved in that
sad parting?

‘See,’ cried Nicholas eagerly, as he looked from the coach
window, ‘they are at the corner of the lane still! And now there’s
Kate, poor Kate, whom you said you couldn’t bear to say goodbye
to, waving her handkerchief. Don’t go without one gesture of
farewell to Kate!’

‘I cannot make it!’ cried his trembling companion, falling back
in his seat and covering his eyes. ‘Do you see her now? Is she there

‘Yes, yes!’ said Nicholas earnestly. ‘There! She waves her hand
again! I have answered it for you--and now they are out of sight.
Do not give way so bitterly, dear friend, don’t. You will meet them
all again.’

He whom he thus encouraged, raised his withered hands and
clasped them fervently together.

‘In heaven. I humbly pray to God in heaven.’
It sounded like the prayer of a broken heart.

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