“You know all about that, and how the news of his sudden and violent death shocked the delicate young mother into a premature confinement, and how little Lil died within a few hours after giving birth to her daughter—died without being able to articulate one word of explanation to Major Hereward, who, brought thither by the minister, stood beside her bed ready to adopt the infant orphaned for his sake and for the sake of his son.
“Major Hereward was in no measure to blame for what occurred; yet he mourned as if he had been culpably responsible for the tragedy, and he did all that lay in his power—all that mortal man could do to atone for it. And not the least part of his work was his adoption and education of the orphan infant.
“That was his bounden duty. His most sacred duty. And in the object of this duty he found the greatest comfort and happiness of his life,” said Tudor Hereward, breaking in for the first time upon Zuniga’s narrative, and taking and carrying the hand of Lilith to his lips.
“I can well believe that! Lilith was a true daughter to her adopted father,” said Zuniga.
“She has been true as truth in every relation of her difficult life,” added Hereward.
“Will you tell us now, dear, what we most long to know—your own life after you left England under such a cruel and unjust condemnation? For even to me, your child, you have never told that story, consecutively,” said Lilith, to divert the conversation from herself, for she was always embarrassed by such very direct praise.
“Yes, but still in the third person, if you please, and still partly from the notes I have made from time to time,” said Zuniga.
And he resumed his personal history as if speaking of another.
CHAPTER XXX
OUT OF THE SNARE AND ON THE WING
And all the time they hunted me,