"No; some of his friends, who believed in his innocence, helped him to escape, and supplied him with funds to get out of the country. Now you know why he has remained absent all these years."
"But why was I never told of this, mother? Why did I not know at the time?"
"You were only six years of age, and were sent away during the excitement to the house of a friend living at some distance. I moved away from the town in which my misfortunes were known, and eventually came here, learning that Albert Marlowe had established himself in business here. You readily believed that your father was dead."
"I understand now, mother. But is it not terrible that the happiness of a family should be broken up in this way?"
"Yes, Bert. Providence permits it for some wise purpose, no doubt, though it is hard for us to understand why it should be."
"One thing I don't understand, mother. You say that Squire Marlowe was a common workman, like my father, and a poor man?"
"Yes, Bert."
"How is it that he is now a rich manufacturer? Where did he get the necessary capital?"
"Nobody knew. He took all his friends by surprise when he went into business for himself on a large scale. Whatever the amount of his capital, he has never been financially embarrassed, and has gone on prospering."
"Till now he is a rich man, living in luxury, while we are living from hand to mouth, and poor father is an exile somewhere."