Peleg Bidwell and other men who had families or a little
property at stake, rapidly dropped off. They owed it to their wives
and children not to get into trouble, they said, and Perez could not
blame them. And so day by day all through the month of January he saw
his power melting away by a process as silent, irresistible and
inevitable as the dissolving of a snow bank in spring; and he knew
that if he lingered much longer in the village, the constable would
come some morning and drag him ignominiously away to the lockup. It
was a desperate position, and yet he was foolishly, wildly happy.
Desire was not indifferent to him. That awkward meeting in the store,
those moments of silent hand-clasp, with her eyes looking with such
bold confession into his, had told him that the sole end and object of
his strange role here in Stockbridge was gained. She loved him. Little
indeed would he have recked that the role was now at an end; little
would he have cared to linger an hour longer on this scene of his
former fantastic fortunes, if but he could have borne her with him on
his flight. How gayly he would have laughed at his enemies then. If he
could but see her now, could but plead with her.
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