They left him to himself, sitting on a box near the stable and looking on, while Max Allen and Seth Walker superintended the fireworks and attended to things generally. Paul was with his mother holding her hand and occasionally kissing her in response to some look in her eyes. No one intruded upon them that night, but the next day hundreds came to congratulate Paul and say a kind word to Tom, assuring him that not a word had been suggested of an arrest, or anything like it.
“We’ve had enough such work to stand us a lifetime, and we don’t want any more,” they said, while Max declared he should resign his office before he would touch Tom.
That day Mrs. Ralston received a short letter from Clarice, who was in New York with her mother and expected to sail for Liverpool the following day. The family, who had occupied their house during the summer, wished to rent it for a year or more, she wrote, and she had decided to go abroad, as both her mother and herself needed an entire change after the sad and exciting scenes through which they had passed. They were to stop a short time in England as guests of Mr. Fenner,—then cross to the Continent and spend the winter in Rome or Naples.
“I have heard of Paul’s giving himself up,” she wrote in conclusion. “It was wise, perhaps, to do so, and I am sure they will be more lenient on account of it. I am so sorry for him. Please tell him so. The past seems to me like a dreadful dream from which I am not yet fully awake. With love,
CLARICE.”
Mrs. Ralston handed this letter to Paul, who read it with scarcely any emotion except to smile when she spoke of visiting Mr. Fenner. Incidentally he had heard that the old earl and young earl were dead and only Ralph’s bachelor brother stood between him and the title. He was an invalid, and who could tell what possibilities were in store for Clarice? “Lady Fenner would not sound badly, and she would fill the bill well,” Paul thought, as he passed the letter back to his mother. It was all over between him and Clarice. He had known that for some time, and could think of her now without a pang, except as the heart always responds with a quick throb to the memory of one loved and lost.
That day was a hard one for Paul, but, exhilarated with his freedom and innocence proved, he kept up bravely, seeing all who called and declaring himself perfectly well. The next day, however, the reaction came. Nature was clamoring for pay, and she took it with interest, reducing Paul so low that for weeks he never left his room, and when he began to recover, his physician recommended that he be taken away from a place where he had suffered so much. Boston was not to be thought of. He must go farther than that, and about the middle of January the Ralston House was closed, and the family started for Southern California. Tom went with them as Paul’s attendant, and as he stepped on board the boat he looked anxiously round, thinking to himself, “If I am to be arrested it will be now when they know I am leaving.”
But he was not arrested then or ever. People had said they supposed something ought to be done, but no one was willing to do it. They were tired out with the excitement they had gone through, and were not disposed to have another, which could only end in Tom’s acquittal. It was an accident anyway, and no blame could attach to Tom, except allowing the guilt to fall upon Paul. If the Ralstons could forgive him, they could. The Ralstons had forgiven him, and thought more of him than ever, so they let the matter drop.
“Hanging by the ears,” Tom said, feeling always a little uncertain as to what might befall him yet.
But when the boat moved from the shore and no effort was made to detain him he gave his fears to the winds and felt that he was safe.