‘Pardon me, Lizzie, but did I hear aright when you said your father was erring?’
‘Yes, Captain Norris, erring beyond the generality of men. I should not have mentioned it to you, except for the kind sentiments you have expressed towards me this evening, and which make me feel that, before they go further, you have a right to know all. The week before he died, my father made a communication to me which I had never heard before, and which he forbade me to repeat during his lifetime. His death has, of course, released me from that duty, and I am sure that he would have wished you, of all men, to be acquainted with the truth. But I am afraid that it will shock you terribly, Captain Norris, to hear that my poor father was a criminal in hiding from the law, and, except for the goodness of Mr Courtney, he would have suffered the penalty of transportation. This was the secret of the great friendship between them, and why my father changed his name, to prevent his retreat from being discovered.’
‘And yet Mr Courtney remained his friend to his life’s end. How good a man your father must have been, Lizzie (but for this youthful error), that his conduct had no power to separate him from the person who knew and loved him best.’
‘Ah, that is how I look at it!’ cried Lizzie, seizing his hand, and bursting into tears; ‘but I hardly expected to hear so generous a judgment from your lips. If suffering, and repentance, and a desire to make amendment, can atone for a man’s sin, I believe my poor father fully expiated his. He was an exile from all his relations, and lived under an assumed name, with no one but myself for a companion, and his profession for occupation. I am not aware if I sprung from the gutter, or came of a decent family. All I know is that I am called Elizabeth Fellows, and that, although guiltless myself, I am not a fit wife for any honest or honourable man.’
‘You shall not speak to me like that,’ exclaimed Hugh Norris indignantly, ‘for it is not true! You are fit, in your own sweet self, to mate with the best man that ever lived; and I consider you as far above me as the stars are above the earth. But I think you should ascertain your real name, and who your relations are. Your father is gone, Lizzie. The discovery can never hurt him now, and there is no saying how much benefit it may prove to you. Cannot Mr Courtney give you the necessary information?’
‘I believe he can, but I have shrunk from asking him. This terrible scandal about me—’
‘Don’t let that prevent you. Be your own brave self, and meet the calumny as it deserves. Take my advice, Lizzie, and demand an explanation from Mr Courtney as soon as possible. Life is uncertain, you know, and he might die before you have ascertained the truth about yourself. Then you might never hear it.’
‘He will be surprised to find me asking questions about which I have shown no curiosity for so many years. He will wonder what can have put it into my head.’
Hugh Norris drew nearer to her, and seized her hand.
‘Say you are engaged to be married to me, and that you consider I have a right to know everything concerning yourself.’