“How dare you, thir,” said Mrs. Dibble, starting up; “how dare you hang my papa! Ah, I forgot, of courthe poverty mutht be insulted, and I am a wretched dependent, though I have had a boarding-school education, and been brought up to——”
“Confound it, Mrs. Dibble: will you talk common sense for a moment. I don’t wish to insult you, nor to be unkind in any way. Will you tell me how it is that this lady has left your house?”
“Here is a note,” said Mr. Dibble, timidly taking a small billet from the mantel-piece.
Mrs. Dibble scowled at her husband, and began to weep afresh over her fallen fortunes.
Paul hastily opened the note, which Dibble gave to him, and read as follows:—
“My dear Paul,—I have saved you from a great sin and from terrible misery. This wretched girl is my daughter. I have taken her away; do not seek to follow us. You shall know all in the course of a day or two. ‘He visits the sins of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate him, and shows mercy unto thousands in them that love Him and keep His commandments.’
“Believe me to be ever yours in truth and affection,
“A. Williamson.”
Paul read the note twice and in the greatest astonishment. His mind was in a chaos of wonder and amazement. He sat down upon a chair, and read the strange words over and over again, until Dibble interrupted him.
“It was all true, sir,” said Dibble, “what I said yesterday; she was the show-girl, Chrissy, who conjured, you know, sir, at Severntown.”