"And so thought every one; but it turns out a mistake. He was wounded and left for dead, and only recovered to find himself in a French prison, where he has languished all these years till just now that he has been exchanged; not by his own title,—for as Lord Stanton, he had been condemned to death, and had only saved his life by taking the name of his servant, who died in his cell. He has known naught of his own family,—not even that his poor wife was dead."
Anne was not a little daunted when she found herself in presence of the parson and his guest, the tall, stately soldier. But she was a girl of spirit, and confident in the goodness of her cause; and she told a simple, straight-forward story, from which all the cross-questioning of Dr. Burgess and Lord Stanton did not cause her to vary an inch.
"I thank you, my girl," said Lord Stanton, at last. "I shall not forget your services and, meantime, here is a token for you," (putting a gold piece in her hand). "You will please say nothing of this at the Grange till I come. I wish to see the state of things for myself, and will follow you directly."
"And a nice surprise it will be for my mistress," thought Anne, as she curtsied, and retired, well pleased with her day's work. "I am sure I will say nothing to spoil it."
"Do you think this girl's tale can be true?" asked Lord Stanton. "I know my sister Bernard for a hard, stern woman, who would have been my last choice for a guardian; but this seems beyond belief."
"Her cousin, Sir James Warden, doubtless acted for the best," said Dr. Burgess. "Mrs. Bernard has ever been counted an honourable woman, though somewhat stern and severe, especially with children. I have often pitied Lady Lucy, and would willingly have made her acquaintance, that she might amuse herself with companions of her own age; but her aunt has repelled all our advances. It may be that my good wife and myself have erred is the opposite direction, and allowed too much liberty to our young flock. I know that Mrs. Bernard is of that opinion,—which probably is one reason that she will not allow Lady Lucy to play with my girls, but I cannot think children spoiled who mind their mother with a word or look, and come to their parents with all their little secrets and confessions as freely as our young ones."
"Truly I should say not," returned Lord Stanton. "But I am impatient to see my poor little daughter. May I so far trespass upon your kindness as to ask Mrs. Burgess to take charge of her for a day or two till I can make arrangements for keeping her at home?"
"Surely, surely, my lord,—if she can live as we do. I will mention the matter to my wife."
Poor Lucy, on her hard bed, had fallen into an uneasy slumber, while her bread and water stood almost untouched upon the table. The three days of confinement and harsh treatment had made a great change in her appearance. She was thinner and paler, with dark purple marks under her eyes; and the scarlet traces of the blows she had received still showed plainly upon her thin white neck and arms. She had seen from the window her aunt go out for a walk, as usual, in the cool of the day, and had waited, watching and hoping that Anne or Margery would find a chance to speak to her through the key-hole, if no more. But no one came, and she had cried herself to sleep.
She was suddenly awakened by the sound of several voices upon the stairs. She distinguished Anne's, and then Hannah's, and then a stern, manly voice, which said,—