Mrs. Wynthrop would not hear of Harcourt leaving the lodge to take up his abode at the cabin, but insisted that he should occupy a spare room just over the parlor chamber tenanted by his mother.
From the day of his arrival at Lone Lodge poor Will Harcourt began to improve in health. Two of the heaviest burdens on his heart were lifted.
Roma had escaped unharmed from Hanson. His mother was happy, comfortable and well cared for. She would never know the black cloud that overshadowed his own future. Those two beloved ones, to save whom from shame and despair he had been driven to do that “deed without a name,” were, at least, safe from injury.
As for himself, he knew that he had never intended to commit a crime; that so far as he was concerned the death of Yelverton was, indeed, a mere accident, yet none the less did it weigh so heavily on his conscience that he felt the only relief for him would be to give himself up to justice and let the law have its will of him. And this he would do so soon as he could do it without wounding others, when his mother would be safe in her heavenly home, when Roma would learn the whole bitter truth and understand and forgive him; then he could face the consequences of his crime and bear the doom of death or the penal servitude that the law would deal out to him, better, much better, than he had borne the weight of a guilty conscience.
So, having settled his plans for the future, and living now for a few days in such an atmosphere of peace, love and light, his health improved and his spirits rose—yes, even against his will and his conscience, his spirits rose—and he was strangely comforted.
His mother noticed his improvement, and expressed her delight.
“See what rest and recreation have done for you, dear Will,” she said, smiling on him as he sat one morning by her chair. “You must not think of going back to college until after the summer vacation is over.”
“Dear mother, I would gladly stay if I might, but I must leave you in a few days. I will, however, come often to see you,” he said, with a responsive smile.
“Ah! what a devoted student you are!” she exclaimed, patting his head. “The one genius of our family. We shall all be very proud of you some day, Will, my boy.”
As he thought of his blighted ambition, and his penal future, he could only smile at her words, as one might smile at stake and faggot.