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.

“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.”