"Ruth has told me everything, father. We can clear Ronald Mervyn as soon as we like." And Mary Armstrong threw her arms round her father's neck.
"I thank God for that, Mary. I felt it would come sooner or later, but I had hardly hoped that it would come so soon. I am thankful, indeed, my child; how did it all come about?"
Mary repeated the story Ruth Powlett told her.
"Yes, there's no doubt about it this time," her father said. "As you say, there could be no mistake about the knife, because she had given it to him herself, and had had his initials engraved upon it at Plymouth. I don't think any reasonable man could have a doubt that the scoundrel did it; and now, my dear, what is to be done next?"
"Ah, that is for you to decide. I think Ronald ought to be consulted."
"Oh, you think that?" Mr. Armstrong said, quickly. "You think he knows a great deal better what ought to be done than I do?"
"No, I don't exactly mean that, father; but I think one would like to know how he would wish it to be done before we do anything. There is no particular hurry, you know, when he once knows that it is all going to be set right."
"No, beyond the fact that he would naturally like to get rid of this thing hanging over him as soon as he can. Now, my idea is that the girl ought to go at once to a magistrate and make an affidavit, and hand over this knife to him. I don't know how the matter is to be re-opened, because Ronald Mervyn has been acquitted, and the other man is goodness knows where."
"Well, father, there will be time enough to think over it, but I do think we had better tell Ronald first."
"Very well, my dear, as you generally have your own way, I suppose we shall finally settle on that, whether we agree now or three days hence. By the way, I have got a letter in my pocket for you from him. The Cape mail touched at Plymouth yesterday."