Читать книгу A Son of Ishmael. A Novel онлайн

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“The task you set me will kill me, father. I am dreadfully tired already. I am utterly weary of the misery of my life.”

“Kneel down, child,” said the doctor. His voice changed from its hard and ringing note; it grew all of a sudden soft, beseeching, tender.

“You have a woman’s heart and a woman’s spirit,” he said, touching one of the slim young hands and stroking it as he spoke; “but you have more than that, you have a man’s courage. I have seen that courage shine in your eyes in more than one sudden emergency; the day the blow fell I saw it. I have seen it since, when you have denied yourself and turned your back on the good things of youth, and followed me, step by step, uncomplainingly, up the narrow path of self-sacrifice and self-denial. You can do it—you shall. Think of Anthony, think for a moment of the old times.”

“Yes, I remember the old times,” replied Nancy. She began to sob as she spoke.

“That is right, child, cry away. I have touched your heart. When I touch a heart like yours courage soon re-animates it; you will not be a coward, you will not allow your brother’s blood to cry from the ground for vengeance; think of the old times, think of your mother, think of the old, gay, happy life.”