"With Mr. Graham for security, they let my poor father go home; but a mighty blow had fallen upon him, benumbing all his faculties; he could neither think, nor talk, nor act, but would sit all day with mother's hands in his, gazing into her face and whispering sometimes:
"'What will my darling do when I am in State prison?'
"Such would be his fate, everybody said. It could not be avoided, and in a kind of feverish despair he waited the result. Your father was with him often, 'keeping watch,' the villagers said; but if so, he was not vigilant enough, for one dark, stormy night, the last before the dreadful sitting of the court, when the wind roared and howled about the old farm-house, and the heavy autumnal rain beat against the windows, my father drew his favorite chair, the one which always stands in that dark corner, and which none save you has ever used since then, he drew it, I say, to my mother's side, and winding his arms about her neck, he said:
"'Ellen, do you believe me guilty?'
"'No, never for a moment,' she replied, and he continued:
"'Heaven bless you, precious one, for that. Teach our child to think the same, and give it a father's blessing.'
"My mother was too much bewildered to answer, and with a kiss upon her lips, my father turned to his father and standing up before him, said:
"'I know what's in your heart; but, father, I swear to you that I am innocent. Bless me, father—bless your only boy once more.'
"Then grandpa put his trembling hand upon the brown locks of his son and said:
"'I would lay down my life to know that you are not guilty; but I bless you all the same, and may God bless you too, my boy!'