"I am a stranger, but I am also your son-in-law."
"I have no son-in-law," the old man replied, gazing blankly at him.
"Your daughter was my wife," said Richard Leith.
"Little Golden?" said the old man, like one dazed.
"Yes," answered the lawyer. "I stole her from you sixteen years ago, and made her my darling wife. Oh, sir, can you ever forgive me the sorrow I have caused you?"
"A wife! She was a wife! Thank God for that," the old man murmured, with trembling delight. "And you have brought her back at last. Where is she, my darling little Golden?"
"Oh, God!" murmured the conscience-smitten man before him.
"Let me see her, my sweet child," cried Hugh Glenalvan, feebly rising. "It was cruel to keep the little one from me so long. Oh, Golden, Golden, come to me, my darling."
Richard Leith put him back with gentle hands into his chair. He knelt down at his feet and told him all his sorrowful story, throwing all the blame on himself, and pleading humbly for pardon from the father whom he had robbed of his darling.
"I loved her," he said. "She was dearer than my own life. I would have brought her back to you in time. I was only waiting for the fame and fortune that came to me soon. But treachery came between us. I lost her, and henceforth I have lived hand in hand with sorrow and despair."