"You came from her?" said Leicester.
"Yes, to tell you that you are mistaken, that your reproaches were groundless, that she is not heartless, and, as from herself, she bade me tell you that she required your forgiveness and good will. The word and the thing needed between you is 'peace'—no more, mind!" he added, as Leicester wiped the perspiration from his brow. "No more! We do not say any warmer word! For the present, it is only peace!"
Leicester held out his hand.
"Captain Murpoint," he said, and his voice struggled for calm, "I have wronged you. You are a good fellow, for no other than an honest, simple-hearted, good-natured gentleman would have taken so much trouble to bring happiness to an obstinate, wooden-headed, conceited young fool——"
"No no," said the captain, disclaimingly, as he shook the hot hand cordially.
"And she sent for me!" continued Leicester, in a rhapsody of gratitude and love. "Bless her gentle heart! What a brute I must have seemed to her! I said more than I meant, captain. I swear I did; I was mad at the time, mad with jealousy and love and wounded vanity. But enough of that. Where is she?"
"I left Violet hiding snugly in the old chapel."
Leicester started, and a slight shadow of suspicion clouded his joy.
"Hiding in the old chapel? Why should she do that?" he asked.