“It will in time, Earle—I feel sure that some day your innocence will be established.”
“I shall devote my energies to that purpose, and if the guilty ones are never brought to justice, I will live my innocence. I will prove it by my life—my life shall be foursquare, and I will yet command the faith and respect of all who know me. It will be hard, but I shall strive to fight my battle bravely, and I feel that I shall conquer in the end. You know Pope tells us that ‘He’s armed without that’s innocent within.’”
“You will succeed—you cannot fail with such an earnest purpose in your heart,” Editha said, eagerly; then she added, musingly: “You said you would make your life ‘foursquare.’ I do not think I quite understand that.”
Earle Wayne smiled a rare, sweet smile, as, leaning nearer his fair companion, he said, in a low, reverent tone:
“You have read of the ‘city that lieth foursquare,’ whose length is as large as it breadth, whose ‘walls are of jasper,’ and whose ‘gates are of pearl.’ That city, Editha, a perfect square, and embellished with the most precious stones, is, I believe, the emblem or symbol of a pure and perfect life, and so, with the help of God, I mean that mine shall be ‘foursquare.’”
Editha gave him a look as if she thought it could not be far from that even now.
After a moment of silence he continued:
“From my early boyhood I have always had a desire to become a thoroughly good man—a man honored and respected by my fellow-men. My mother ever tried to impress me never to be guilty of a mean or ignoble action. I thought her the perfection of womanhood while she lived, and have tried to treasure her precepts since she died; so you can judge something of what I have endured in the disgrace of serving out a criminal’s sentence. I could not speak of this to any one else,” he added, with some excitement; “but you have been so kind and sympathizing that it relieves my burden somewhat to speak of it to you.”
Editha did not reply—she had no words with which to answer him; but she lifted her blue eyes to his face, and he saw that they were full of tears.
“I am glad,” Earle went on, a slight tremulousness in his tones, “that my mother did not live to know of my deep trouble—much as I have needed her sympathy, love, and counsel—for she must have suffered torture on account of it. If she knows anything about it now, she knows that I am innocent, and also just why this sad experience was permitted to come to me.”