Even the local politicians became excited, and both sides consulted Guzzy.
Finally, when Guzzy started for the State capital, and Helen Wyett, as people still called her, accompanied him, the people of Bowerton put on countenances of hopeless resignation, and of a mute expectation which nothing could astonish.
It might be an elopement—it might be that they were going as missionaries; but no one expressed a positive opinion, and every one expressed a perfect willingness to believe anything that was supported by even a shadow of proof.
Their mute agony was suddenly ended, for within forty-eight hours Guzzy and his traveling companion returned.
The latter seemed unusually happy for the wife of a convict, while the former went straight to Squire Jones and the constable’s.
Half an hour later all Bowerton knew that William Beigh, alias Bay Billy, alias Handsome, had received a full and free pardon from the Governor.
The next day Bowerton saw a tall, handsome stranger, with downcast eyes, walk rapidly through the principal street and disappear behind Mrs. Wyett’s gate.
A day later, and Bowerton was electrified by the intelligence that the ex-burglar had been installed as a clerk in Guzzy’s store.
People said that it was a shame—that nobody knew how soon Beigh might take to his old tricks again. Nevertheless, they crowded to Guzzy’s store, to look at him, until shrewd people began to wonder whether Guzzy hadn’t really taken Beigh as a sort of advertisement to draw trade.
A few months later, however, they changed their opinions, for the constable, after the expiration of his term of office, and while under the influence of a glass too much, related the whole history of the night of Beigh’s first arrival at Bowerton.