"That," she said, very quietly, "will make it easier."
Maud Barrington said nothing, but every one in the room saw her standing a moment beside the man, with a little flush on her face and no blame in her eyes. Then she passed on, but short as it was the pause had been very significant, for it seemed that whatever the elders of the community might decide, the two women, whose influence was supreme at Silverdale, had given the impostor absolution.
The girl could not analyze her feelings, but through them all a vague relief was uppermost, for whatever he had been it was evident the man had done one wrong only, and daringly, and that was a good deal easier to forgive than several incidents in Courthorne's past would have been. Then she was conscious that Miss Barrington's eyes were upon her.
"Aunt," she said, with a little tremor in her voice, "It is almost bewildering. Still, one seemed to feel that what that man has done could never have been the work of Lance Courthorne."
Miss Barrington made no answer, but her face was very grave, and just then those nearest it drew back a little from the door. A trooper stood outside it, his carbine glinting in the light, and another was silhouetted against the sky, sitting motionless in his saddle further back on the prairie.
"The police are still here," said somebody. One by one they passed out under the trooper's gaze, but there was the usual delay in harnessing and saddling, and the first vehicle had scarcely rolled away, when again the beat of hoofs and thin jingle of steel came portentously out of the silence. Maud Barrington shivered a little as she heard it.
In the meanwhile, the few who remained had seated themselves about Colonel Barrington. When there was quietness again, he glanced at Winston, who still sat at the foot of the table.
"Have you anything more to tell us?" he asked. "These gentlemen are here to advise me if necessary."
"Yes," said Winston quietly. "I shall probably leave Silverdale before morning, and have now to hand you a statement of my agreement with Courthorne and the result of my farming here, drawn up by a Winnipeg accountant. Here is also a document in which I have taken the liberty of making you and Dane my assigns. You will, as authorized by it, pay to Courthorne the sum due to him, and with your consent, which you have power to withhold, I purpose taking one thousand dollars only of the balance that remains to me. I have it here now, and in the meanwhile surrender it to you. Of the rest, you will make whatever use that appears desirable for the general benefit of Silverdale. Courthorne has absolutely no claim upon it."
He laid a wallet on the table, and Dane glanced at Colonel Barrington, who nodded when he returned it unopened.