He had taken his prison as a joke from the first, sneering at the judge who had committed him. He knew that every day he stayed in that jail he was becoming more and more the master of the people. If McLeod had tried he could not have played into his hands with more fatal certainty. Five hundred citizens of Independence had wired him their congratulations and offered him any assistance he desired, from unlimited money for defence to a delegation to tear the jail down.
He declined any assistance. He knew the storm would break over their heads soon enough, and they would be delighted to get rid of him. In the meantime he gave himself up to his thoughts about the woman he loved, and wondered what change had suddenly come over her to send him that message. He felt sure the great crisis in their life had come. What would it be? A sorrowful surrender on her part to her father’s iron will and a tearful good-bye forever, or the full surrender of her woman’s soul and body to the dominion of his love?
He was glad the hour had struck that should decide. He trembled at the import of her answer but he was ready to receive it.
A carriage rolled into the jail enclosure and two young ladies alighted. One of them stopped in the sitting room for visitors, and he heard the tramp of a man’s heavy feet on the stairs and after it the tread of a woman like a soft echo.
The key grated in the lock, the door opened. She looked into his eyes for just an instant of searching soul revelation, saw the yearning and the grateful tears, and with a glad cry sprang into his arms.
“You do love me!” she passionately cried.
“Love you? I drew you back across the sea with my love. I knew you would come. I willed it with a power you couldn’t resist.”
“I never got your letters, and I was hungry to see you,” she whispered.
“And I never got yours, and drew you back by the power of a great heart purpose.”
“Forgive me, for being away from you when you were in danger.”