The Heart

"And then I went myself below, and Caterin, she would have none of

me, and made up such a face of ice when I approached, that methought

I had maybe wasted my emruld ring. So after a little up the stare I

stole, and the ring was not where I had put it. Then thinkin that

the ring had been stole, and I had neither that nor the made, I

raised a great hue and cry, and demanded that a search be maid, and

the ring was found on Master Wingfield, and he was therefor

transported, and I had my ring again, and myself knew not the true

fact of the case until a year agone. Then feeling that I had not

much longer to live, I writ this, thinking that Master Wingfield was

in a rich country, and not in sufferin, and a few months more would

make not much odds to him. The facs of the case, cousin, I knew from

Madam Cavendish's old servant woman Charlotte who came to my sister

when the Cavendishs left for Virginia, having a fear of the sea, and

later when my sister died, to my wife, and died but a year agone,

and in her deathbed told me what she knew. She told me truly, that

she did see Madam Cavendish on the night of the ball go into

Caterin's chamber, and espying my emruld ring on her dressing-table,

take it up and look at it with exceeding astonishment, and then lay

it down not on the spot whereon I had left it, but on the

prayer-book on the little stand beside her bed, and then go down

stairs, frowning. Then this same Charlotte, having litle interest in

life as to her own affairs, and forced to suck others, if she would

keep her wits nourished, being watchful, saw me enter, and miss the

ring, and heard the hue and cry which I raised. And then she, still

watching, saw Master Harry Wingfield, who with others was searching

the house for the lost treasure, stop as he was passing the open

door of Caterin's chamber, because the green light of the emruld

fixed his eyes, and rush in and secrete the ring upon his person.

This Charlotte saw, and told Madam Cavendish, who bound her over to

secresy to save the honour of the family, believing that her own

granddaughter Caterin was the thief. This epistle, cousin, is to

prove to you that Caterin was no thief, but simply a cold maid, who

hath no love for either hearts or gems, but of that I complain not,

havin as I believe, wedded wisely, if not to please my famly, and

three daughters and a son, hath my Betty given me, and most exceedin

fine tarts hath she made, and puddens, and I die content, with this

last writ to thee, cousin to clear Caterin Cavendish, and may be of

an innosent gentleman likewise.