The cry came from her soul, and it was echoed by her sisters and her friend.
“Abel!”
This was from his wife.
“Yes, my dears, it is true!” replied the squire. “Odalite is free!”
“Anglesea is dead, then? Our terrible enemy is dead!” exclaimed Elfrida Force, with a sigh of infinite relief.
“No, my dears, Anglesea is not dead, I thank Heaven! Long may that gallant soldier and true gentleman live to enrich humanity! But your enemy is dead to you, Odalite! You are free, my child! As free as either of your sisters! And you have always been free, my dearest dear, although I did not know it until to-day.”
“What is the meaning of all this?” demanded Elfrida Force, in a voice of doubt and pain.
“Tell your sister, Enderby. Tell them all—and all about it! I cannot. I am not equal to the task! I should talk like a fool!” said the squire, drawing his handkerchief from his pocket, and wiping his brows.
Thus adjured, the earl looked around on the group of eager listeners, and said, addressing Mrs. Force:
“You may remember, Elfrida, how amazed and incredulous I was when you told me of the disgraceful career of one whom you called by the name of my nearest and dearest friend—Angus Anglesea.”