"No more from thy cousin, "Ealing."

One strange feature was there about this letter, which the writer

had not foreseen, while it cleared me well enough in the opinion of

the family, to strangers it cleared me not at all, for who was to

know for what reason I had entered Catherine's chamber, and took and

secreted that ring of his lordship's? Strict silence had I

maintained, and so had Madam Cavendish all these years, and naught

in that letter would clear me before any court of law. Catherine

being the only one whose innocence was made plain, I could now tell

my story with no fear of doing her harm, but let those believe my

part of it who would! Still I may say here, that I verily believe

that I was at last cleared in the minds of all who knew me well, and

for others I cared not. My term expired soon after that date, and

though I chose to remain in Virginia and not return to England, yet

my property was restored to me, for my half-brother, John

Chelmsford, when confronted by any gate of injustice leapt it like

an English gentleman, with no ado. And yet after I heard that

letter, I knew that I was a convict still, and knew that for some I

would be until the end of the chapter, and when I grew a little

stronger, that wild hope that now I might have Mary, dimmed within

me, for how could I allow her to wed a man with a stain upon his

honour? And even had I been pardoned, the fact of the pardon had

seemed to prove my guilt.

It was three days after this, my brother and various others striving

all the time, but with no effect, to secure my release, that Mary

herself came to see me. Catherine, as I afterward discovered, had

unlocked her chamber door and set her free while her grandmother

slept, and the girl had mounted Merry Roger, and come straight to

me, not caring who knew.

I heard the key grate in the lock, and turned my eyes, and there she

was: the blessing of my whole life, though I felt that I must not

take it. Close to me she came and knelt, and leaned her cheek

against mine, and stroked back my wild hair.

"Harry, Harry," she whispered, and all her dear face was tremulous

with love and joy.

"Thou art no convict, Harry," she said. "Thou didst not steal the

ring, but that I knew before, and I know not any better now, and I

love thee no better now. And I would have been thine in any case."




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