"Then I suspect the Collector will have a crow over me now!" said Mark, with a laugh. "What do you think, Hester? I discovered a box of papers in a lumber room at Cheveril. It had never been opened seemingly since it was sent home from the East after my father's death. He was Uncle Mark's younger brother, you know, a lieutenant in the Indian Army; and I find that my mother who was always believed to be an Indian—and a princess to boot—was after all an English girl, lost at the time of the Mutiny, though she had a happier fate than some, for she was adopted by a good Ranee. She was only seventeen when my father married her, and she died at my birth. My father died soon after, and I was sent home to my grandparents at Cheveril; very likely the old cedar-wood box was part of my baggage! I've always understood from Uncle Mark that owing to my father's hasty marriage there was a coldness between my grandparents and him, and that letters ceased between them, though his early death was said to be a great blow. Probably they heard misleading rumours of the choice of a girl from the Ranee's palace. It was a romantic affair, of course, and would be sure to set tongues wagging. Anyhow, the truth has been disclosed at last by this old chest which looks so Indian that I expect it was part of my mother's providing by the Ranee. My mother, by the way, was a daughter of a General Worsley. I can't help thinking and hoping that she must have been of the same family as the Collector; but that will all be cleared up by and by."
"And are you glad or sorry, Mark?" asked Hester, with a wistful look in her eyes.
"Well, to know the truth is always best, don't you think?" said Mark simply. "But I'll tell you who is jolly glad—my uncle! He says he rejoices there has been no 'blot on the scutcheon' after all! He is in great excitement, and has had his lawyer down to examine the old papers which he might have discovered long ago."
"But then you mightn't have been the cordial succourer of so many Eurasians. Indeed, I feel sure you will prove no less their friend in days to come, though there is no blood-tie; but I must say, Mark, for many reasons, I'm grateful to the old cedar-wood box for holding its secret so long! Even Alfred, in his heart of hearts, admired your courage, and it was all on the side of good for him," said Hester, wondering why it was so much more easy to speak that name to this friend than to any of her home people.
Mark went on to tell her that his return to India would no longer be to the familiar Puranapore. Since the Collector was about to retire, he acknowledged, he was nothing loth to have a change, especially since an attractive post had been offered to him in the North, though it would necessitate a speedy return to the East.
He now bent forward suddenly, saying:
"Hester, would you risk the black water again and go with me? You have all my love and my worship—will you be my wife? I once banished my love as a forbidden thing and tried to be your loyal friend——"
"You did, Mark," murmured Hester, with bowed head. "Right loyally you did——"
"But now—the present is ours, Hester, the present and the future. You will make it golden for me if you will grant me this. Hester, didn't you invite me to come and learn wisdom at your feet as I came under this tree?" asked Mark, with a glowing mien, flinging himself on the ground and looking up into her drooping face.
"No, it was Charlie I invited."