“Yes; I put your note into his own hands. He was much affected; but he promised obedience to your wishes at once.”
Katharine gave a sigh, and turned her face to the wall. There was a short pause of silence before Jane proceeded:—
“He bade me tell you that his father and your kinsfolk in America are well; and that the immediate object of his return is the love of his country.”
“Ah, Jane! I know what that means. I remember too well all the warm and bitter words that passed between my father and his on that subject. Would he had stayed in the peaceful Plantations! The ocean between us was not a wider separation than the gulf that divides party from party at home; besides, Jane, he is deluded: they will play upon his generous nature,—they will make a traitor of him. Rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft. Would he had stayed abroad!”
“I must not forget, Katharine, to tell you that he strictly charged me to say that he was loyal. ‘It is a word,’ said he, ‘of many imports:’—mind you tell her that I am loyal.’—No, dear Katharine, his is no traitor’s heart: he may be on the wrong side of the quarrel, but he is the King’s true subject at the bottom.”
“Hush! Jane; whisper not these dangerous words,—there is deceit in them. The soul’s enemy finds each of us treacherous enough in will, and crooked enough in judgment, without the weak and indulgent folly of our friends. Be true to me,—be English, Jane:—I love you passing well.”
Jane kissed her pale cheek; and there was another pause. At last Katharine said, in a very low voice,—
“How was Cousin Francis looking? Is he in health?”
“His complexion is more brown, and he has less colour than formerly; his countenance, too, is very grave—almost sad; yet there is a steady fire in his eyes; and he is as graceful and as strong as ever. But for his late care and watching, I should say he was better in health than when he left Milverton for America.”