“It would not help much. As it is not sealed you might just look at it. If there is comfort in it the poor old father ought to have it. There is no better time to give it.”
Elizabeth opened it with trembling fingers.
“I hope it is not wrong.”
“It would be too great a risk either to give it or to withhold it without having known its nature. It was written so long ago, and it would be terrible to have sorrow added to sorrow now.”
A single glance was enough.
“Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight.”
Elizabeth read no more. That was enough. She burst into sudden weeping.
“And he never saw his father again.”
“No. And the father never saw the words his son had written,” said Betsey, scarcely less moved.
Daylight was coming in by this time and there was the sound of footsteps at the door. Then Jacob’s voice was heard, and remembering that the squire had said that the papers were for Elizabeth’s eyes alone, Betsey lifted the bag from the table and carried it into the sick-room. Mr Maxwell was with Jacob, and other people were waiting to hear how the night had been passed.