Margaret started, and gazed in his face.
"Ay, Margaret!" he said. "In the common course of events, Ralph Woodhall will soon be Lord Coldenham, as his father now is. For myself, I am so no longer; and what will become of me I know not. My mother's small property will but be sufficient for herself; but I have my sword unstained, and my heart unburdened, and I too can carve a way for myself in the world."
"Young man," said a voice close to him, while a hand was laid upon his arm, "I have not put you to these bitter trials without motive. You are my son, if you will be so, and heir of all that I possess. Your mother I once loved well, till her imperious temper drove me forth to wander over the world. In her ambition she soon forgot and hated me. I became a captive, a slave, a favorite, a rich merchant, as is often the case in Eastern lands. The liberty which she would not seek for me, I repurchased by my own industry and skill. This estate of Ormebar, good as it is in these lands, is but small to what I possess. If you have lost rank and station, with me you may find affluence and peace; and I promise you, after all I have seen of your noble conduct in such trying circumstances, that you shall ever find the affection of a parent also."
The young man grasped his hand, but bent his head, and something like a tear stained his cheek.
Old Lord Woodhall had remained nearly alone in the middle of the room. Some of the guests had come up and spoken to him ere they departed; but he seemed hardly to notice or to hear them, remaining with his eyes bent upon the ground and his arms crossed upon his chest. Suddenly something seemed to move him. He strode across the hall with a rapid step, and took Margaret's hands in his.
"Forgive me, my child, forgive me!" he said. "Henceforth your fate is at your own disposal. Your father will never seek to mar it again."
CHAPTER XLVI.
In the same cell in Dorchester jail which had first received Ralph Woodhall after his capture, sat Gaunt Stilling on the evening succeeding the events which I have mentioned. He was heavily ironed; but he had a light--a lantern fixed upon the wall at a considerable distance above his head, and by its rays, feeble as they were, he was reading a small book very closely printed. One passage seemed to interest him much, for he read it over three or four times. It contained a curious and somewhat subtle argument, translated from the Italian, concerning the lawfulness of certain actions according to the circumstances in which men are placed, and it ended in a quotation in Latin of the well-known epitaph of Cardinal Brundusinus:
"Excessi è vitæ ærumnis facilisque lubensque
Ne perjora ipsa morte dehinc videam."
He was interrupted before he could go further by the entrance of the chief turnkey, who took especial care to look along the passages before he entered, and then closed the door securely behind him.