Early on the morning on which the events to be narrated in this chapter happened, Bess had been round, and despatched Mrs. Jarvis with a note to Gertie, at Heritage Hall, bidding her accompany the messenger if she would see her old grandfather alive.
‘George, I want to tell you something.’
George looked up.
‘What is it, my darling? No bad news, I hope?’
Bess put her arms round her husband’s neck.
‘I don’t think you’ll blame me, dear, for what I did. Now that unhappy man is dead who caused us all our trouble, I think you will be glad. I warned his wife, George, of what was going to be done.’
For a moment George looked doubtfully in his wife’s eyes. Then he stooped down and kissed her tenderly.
‘Bess, my own faithful, long-suffering little wife, you might have ruined all, but you obeyed the promptings of your woman’s heart. The shadow of his fate cannot rest upon us now. We dragged no loving wife through such misery as he dragged you.’
‘I did it for the best, George.’
‘I know it, my darling. It was God who sent you on your errand of mercy: We shall but have to wait a little longer. God will lift the stain from my name, and let the whole world see my innocence in His own way. Something tells me that the days of our pilgrimage are nearly over.’