“Well, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do.”
She nodded again, unable to speak, but clung to him spasmodically, for everything seemed to swim round before her eyes.
“I am penniless. There, that proves to you I did not rob poor old Van. I want money—enough to escape over to France—to get to London first. Then I shall change my name. Don’t be alarmed,” he said tremblingly, as he felt Louise start. “I shall give up the name of Vine, but I’m not going to call myself des Vignes, or any of that cursed folly.”
“Harry!”
“All right, dear. It made me mad to think of it all. I’ve come to my senses now, and I’m going over the channel to make a fresh start and to try and prove myself a man. Some day when I’ve done this father shall know that I am alive, and perhaps then he may take me by the hand and forgive me.”
“Harry, let me send for him—let me tell him now.”
“No,” said the young man sternly.
“He loves you! He will forgive you and bless God for restoring you once more, as I do, my darling. Oh, Harry, Harry! My mother!”
“Hush,” he whispered with his voice trembling as he held her to him and stroked her face. “Hush, sis, hush!”
“Then I may send for him?”