“The excitement and delight which followed this discovery were so great that I could do nothing at all for a time.  I then engaged the services of an able barrister, and within six months the judgment of outlawry, forfeiture, attainder, and corruption of blood, pronounced eighty-five years ago upon Samuel Wickham by the Court of the King’s Bench, was, upon a writ of error, reversed by the Court of the King’s Exchequer.  I then proved that I was the only surviving heir of the wrongfully convicted man, and in a short time the estate became mine.  After consideration I decided best not to keep the property, and just before my departure from England I sold it for ninety-two thousand pounds sterling.  Four months after my return Cecilia married a man whose blood was, at least, free from the inherited taint of treason.

“And now, my dear fellow, you have the story.  To be sure there are some things connected with it not entirely clear; as, for instance, why did my ancestor leave England when he did, and how came he to be travelling over these hills?  And, in regard to the traitorous officer, where did he go after he had written the letter of confession?—­that is a question, although it has been said that he fled to America and settled in Virginia.”

“What was this officer’s name?”

“His name was Richard Anthony Treadwell, and he was major of the seventh regiment of cavalry.”

The sudden mention of this name brought me to my feet.  My surprise was so great that for a moment I could say nothing.  Then I said, coolly, “I have Major Treadwell’s commission in my pocket.”  Gault stared at me in blank amazement.  I drew from my pocket the old document found in the little house in Virginia after the death of Nancy Blake, and handed it to him.  I had put it in my pocket just before I left Washington, intending to at last give it to its owner.

He took the paper and glanced at the name.  “Where did you get this?” he exclaimed, bewildered with astonishment.

I briefly related the circumstances.

“Well,” said Gault, “this is a wonderful coincidence; it is the most remarkable thing that I ever knew.  The traitor, it seems, is still in my family, but not on my side of the house.  Fortunately for me, however, I do not share my excellent father-in-law’s sentiments on the subject of ‘blood,’ and this singular discovery regarding my wife’s great-great-grandfather will not disturb me in the least.  Now,” he continued, “this remarkable sequel of a remarkable case is known by you and me only, and we may as well let it rest here.  It would be a terrible shock to Mr. Crabshaw, with all his proud ideas regarding everything of this kind, to know that his own daughter was descended from one who had been an actual traitor, and I shall never inflict the suffering which such a revelation would cause him.  This historic place has given me one relic which led to all my success, and now I will pay it back with another relic for which I have no further use.”