Rogues and Vagabonds

by George R. Sims

Edward Heritage galloped across the country to escape from a demon who was relentless in pursuit—the demon of the past.

Everything had prospered with him from the day Ruth became his wife. He was respected by his tenantry, well received by his neighbours, and thoroughly happy in his home-life. Ruth had been all that a woman could be to him, and he thanked God every day for the blessing of her love.

But amidst every outward appearance of happiness there was a canker preying upon his heart. Do what he would, the memories of the past would crowd upon him, and bring fears for the future.

The more he became accustomed to the new existence, the greater grew his terror lest any ghost of the old life should wander into the charmed circle.

To all the world he was Squire Heritage; to himself he was Edward Marston. People saw in him a benevolent country gentleman, devoted to his wife and his young ward; he saw in himself an undiscovered forger and thief, a criminal hiding from justice. His loving wife was a woman he had dragged into a shameful alliance, and was one sin the more upon his conscience. His ward was the grand-daughter of an accomplice, a man in whose keeping lay his honour and his life. When at the county sessions he took his seat upon the bench, he trembled lest among the malefactors in the dock there might be some who had know him in the old days.

But there was not much chance of his being recognised. The change of name was a great safeguard, and added to that was the fact that his appearance had changed too. He had aged very rapidly since his marriage. He wore his hair long, and allowed his beard and whiskers to grow freely. These were tinged already with grey, and altogether the change was so complete, not only of surroundings but of appearance, that none but those who had known him intimately and who were searching for him would probably have recognised him.

After breakfast on the morning when we renew our acquaintance with Edward, Ruth, and Gertie, the two ladies went up to old Mrs. Adrian’s room, and left the gentleman alone.

Mrs. Adrian had broken rapidly after her husband’s death, and was now unable to leave her room.

Ruth, like a loving daughter, endeavoured to make her mother feel her loss as little as possible, and always that portion of the morning which her husband spent in his study she and Gertie would pass with the old lady.

They read to her, chatted with her, brought her all the news and all the village gossip they thought she would care to hear, and sometimes, as an extra treat, contradicted her, just to give her an opportunity of exercising her old privilege of scolding them.