T.F. Banks: The Thief-Taker

“But where will she stay?” Morton asked.

“I'm the administrator of her funds, legally,” Darley answered. “And I suppose there are schools she must attend, and… well, any number of things. I cannot bring her quite into polite society, alas, for her earliest life will follow wherever she goes. In some ways I think she would be better going abroad, in time, where this sad history will not follow. Canada is a bit cold, I hear, but it will be a great land one day. Or America. We shall see. The child is perseverance itself, so she might just make herself a life right here in London. At the moment, for some reason, she is set on a career on the stage, of all things!” He looked at Arabella and they both laughed like two people who cared for and knew each other well.

Arabella finished her wine, and rose from the table. “I must go be read a bedtime story,” she said, “which seems somewhat backward to me. If you will excuse me.” She looked from Darley to Morton, her gaze seeming to linger uncertainly on each of them, and then she went quietly out.

Darley watched the door close behind Arabella, then turned to Morton. “Do you know, I cannot get the memories of Louisa and Halbert out of my thoughts.” He gestured toward the wall. “I shall never enter my sitting-room without seeing poor Halbert lying there, already dressed for a funeral. I don't know about these young men going about dressed so-as though they have had some premonition.” He looked at Morton. “You should not take up this practice,” he said, almost hesitantly, then swirled the dark wine in his goblet, watching it stream back down the inside of the glass. “I was trying to recall those lines that Halbert wrote. Do you remember? You found them in his pocket that night.

“It will find you soon enough,

The empty night after the day.

Brief and filled with sorrow,

Love will rise and slip away.”

Darley stared a moment more into his glass, then glanced to the door that Arabella had just used. He lifted his glass to Morton. “To the birds of the air,” he said softly.

“Yes,” said Morton, “to the very birds of the air.”