Part 107 (2/2)

”Will you give your forgiveness, father?” said Fred, rising.

”Forgiveness?”

”Yes: to one who was somewhat of a traitor to his cause.”

”My boy! what do you mean?” cried the colonel; and Fred told all he knew, Mistress Forrester supplementing his narrative with a vivid description of how the fugitive Royalists had been helped into the cavern, and had then escaped by sea.

The colonel rose, and stood staring straight before him, and then he slowly went to the door, signed to them not to follow, and they heard him go upstairs, where, in dread at last, Mistress Forrester followed, to find him on his knees.

When, half an hour after, he returned to the dining-room, his face seemed changed, and there was a bright look in his eyes as if a weight had been lifted from his mind, while twice over his son heard him whisper softly--”Thank G.o.d! Thank G.o.d!”

It was after years had pa.s.sed, and various political changes had taken place, that one bright May day, bright as such days are sometimes seen in the west, a heavy carriage drawn by four horses, and attended by two gentlemen and a st.u.r.dy servitor on horseback, pa.s.sed slowly up and down the hills along the road leading to the Hall.

One gentleman was stern and grey-looking, the other tall and grave beyond his years, while, seated in the carriage were a careworn-looking lady and a beautiful, graceful-looking girl.

As they neared the old entrance to the park, the gentleman ordered the coachman to stop, and himself opened the carriage door, after dismounting, and handed the ladies out on to the soft turf.

”It is more humble for pilgrims to travel a-foot,” he said, with a sad smile. ”Do you think you feel strong enough to bear the visit?”

The lady could not answer for a few moments. Then, mastering her emotion, she said, ”Yes;” and, taking the speaker's arm, they were moving off, followed by the younger pair, the whole party looking like courtly foreigners, when, after tethering the horses to so many trees, and leaving them in charge of the coachman, the stout serving-man strode up to the elderly gentleman.

”Would your honour let me have a look at my old garden once again?”

”Yes, Nat, yes. Take a farewell look. It is a fancy to see the old place in ruins, and have an hour's dream over the past. Then we will say good-bye for good.”

The man touched his hat, and turned off through the plantation, while the party moved on slowly along the familiar old drive, the ladies, with their eyes veiled with tears, hardly daring to look up till they had nearly reached the great entrance to the fine old place, when they started at a cry from the younger man.

”Father!” he cried. ”What does this mean? This is your work--a surprise?”

”Scar, my boy, no; I am astounded.”

For there before them, almost precisely as it was of old, stood the Hall, rebuilt, refurnished, bright and welcoming, the lawn, terrace, and parterre gay with flowers, all as if the past had been a dream, while at that moment Colonel and Mrs Forrester appeared with Fred, hat in hand, in the porch.

Sir G.o.dfrey Markham drew himself up, and his eyes flashed as he turned upon the colonel.

”I see,” he cried. ”Usurper! Well, I might have known!”

”That this was the act of an old friend to offer as a welcome when you should return,” said Colonel Forrester, holding out his hand.

Sir G.o.dfrey looked at the extended hand, then in Colonel Forrester's eyes, and again round him in utter astonishment.

”I--I--came,” he faltered, ”to--to see the ruins of my dear old home.

How could I know that the man whom I once called friend--”

”Till all those dreadful changes came, and set us wide apart. Yes, I heard you were coming down.”

”G.o.dfrey! husband!” whispered Lady Markham; ”can you not see?”

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