The Heart

"I am still a convict, sweetheart," I said, but I fear weakly.

"Harry," she cried out, "thou wilt not let that stand betwixt us

now?"

"How can I let thee wed with a convict, if I love thee?" I said.

"And know you not that this letter of my Lord Ealing's clears me not

legally?"

"That I know," she answered frowning, "because thy brother hath

consulted half the lawyers in England ere he came. I know that, my

poor Harry, but what is that to us?"

"I cannot let thee wed a convict; a man with his honour stained,

dear heart," I said.

Then she fixed her blue eyes upon mine with such a look as never I

saw in mortal woman. She knew at that time what sentence had been

fixed upon me for my share in the tobacco riot, but I did not know,

and then and there she formed such a purpose, as sure no maid,

however great her love for a man, formed before.

"Wait and see what manner of woman she is who loves thee, Harry,"

she said.