“Only the worst are branded with a single mark, so you may imagine what a triple mark indicates. But I will tell you the meaning of each. The first (/|\) is the king’s mark put on those who are totally irreclaimable and insubordinate. The second (R) means runaway, and is put on those who have attempted to escape. The third (+) indicated a murderous attack on the guards. When they are not hung, they are branded with this mark; and those who are branded in this way are condemned to hard work, in chains, for life.”
“That’s about what I supposed,” said Frank, quietly, “only of course you are more particular. After seeing this I told my father. He refused to believe me. I determined to bring matters to a crisis, and charged Potts, in my father’s presence, with associating with a branded felon. Potts at once turned upon me and appealed to my father’s sense of justice. He accused me of being so far carried away by prejudice as not to hesitate to invent a foul slander against an honest man. He said that Clark would be willing to be put to any test; he could not, however, ask him to expose himself—it was too outrageous but would simply assert that my charge was false.
“My father as usual believed every word and gave me a stern reprimand. Louis, in the presence of my mother and sister I cursed my father on that day. Poor man! the blow soon fell. It was in 1845 that the crash came. I have not the heart to go into details now. I will tell you from time to time hereafter. It is enough to say that every penny was lost. We had to leave the Hall and took a little cottage in the village.
“All our friends and acquaintances stood aloof. My father’s oldest friends never came near him. Old Langhetti was dead. His son knew nothing about this. I will tell you more of him presently.
“Colonel Lionel Despard was dead. His son, Courtenay, was ignorant of all this, and was away in the North of England. There was Thornton, and I can’t account for his inaction. He married Langhetti’s daughter too. That is a mystery.”
“They are all false, Frank.”
Frank looked up with something like it smile.
“No, not all; wait till you hear me through.”
Frank drew a long breath. “We got sick there, and Potts had us taken to the alms-house. There we all prayed for death, but only my father’s prayer was heard. He died of a broken heart. The rest of us lived on.
“Scarcely had my father been buried when Potts came to take us away. He insisted that we should leave the country, and offered to pay our way to America. We were all indifferent: we were paralyzed by grief. The alms-house was not a place that we could cling to, so we let ourselves drift, and allowed Potts to send us wherever he wished. We did not even hope for any thing better. We only hoped that somewhere or other we might all die. What else could we do? What else could I do? There was no friend to whom I could look: and if I ever thought of any thing, it was that America might possibly afford us a chance to get a living till death came.