"'Tis thought so," we answered, while Mr. Kinchella added that many enquiries had been made for, him, not only in Virginia but in other colonies, and no word could be heard of him. "So that," he continued, "there can be no further thought but that he is dead."
"Even so," said my lord, "'twere best. For a wretch such as he death alone is fitting. And, madam, from the Marquis I have heard by letter of all the villainies he committed here, and, as one of his blood and race, I now tender you my apologies for his sins and wickedness."
"Oh, sir," I cried out with emotion, "I pray you do not so. He is gone and I have forgotten him; since he must surely be dead I have also forgiven him. I beg of you not to sully your fair fame by associating your name with his, nor your honour by deeming yourself accountable for his misdeeds."
Whereon, as I spake, his lordship, taking my hand in his, raised it to his lips and said he thanked me for my gracious goodness.
[CHAPTER XVII]
THE RED MAN
"How easily," said Lord St. Amande to me one summer night, two months later, as we sat upon the porch outside the saloon, "how easily may one be inspired with the gift of prophecy! Who, looking in at those two and knowing their characters, could not predict their future?"
He spake of Mr. Kinchella and Mary who were within, she sitting at the spinet while he, bending over her, was humming the air of a song he had lately written preparatory to her singing it.
"One can see," went on my lord, "all that that future shall be. They have told their love to one another, soon that love will blossom into marriage, even as I have seen your daturas and your roses blossom forth since first I came amongst you--that marriage will bring happiness of days and years to them, in which in honour and peaceful joys they will go on until life's close. Happy, happy pair--happy Kinchella to love and be beloved, to love and dare to tell his love."
And my lord sighed as he spoke.