“No, I’m not tired. It’s West I’m thinking about. He lies on my mind sadly. And I never did anything for the wife or child to atone to them! It’s too late now—and has been this many a year.”
Harry Carradyne’s heart began to beat a little. Should he say what he had been hoping to say sometime? He might never have a better opportunity than this.
“Uncle Godfrey,” he spoke in low tones, “would you—would you like to see Mr. West’s daughter? His wife has been dead a long while; but—would you like to see her—Alice?”
“Ay,” fervently spoke the old man. “If she be in the land of the living, bring her to me. I’ll tell her how sorry I am, and how I would undo the past if I could. And I’ll ask her if she’ll be to me as a daughter.”
So then Harry Carradyne told him all. It was Alice West who was already under his roof, and who, fate and fortune permitting, Heaven permitting, would sometime be Alice Carradyne.
Down sat Captain Monk on a bench of his own accord. Tears rose to his eyes. The sudden revulsion of feeling was great: and truly he was a changed man.
“You spoke of Heaven, Harry. I shall begin to think it has forgiven me. Let us be thankful.”
But Captain Monk found he had more to thank Heaven for ere many minutes had elapsed. As Harry Carradyne sat by him in silence, marvelling at the change, yet knowing that the grievous blow which was making havoc of Eliza had effected the completeness of the subduing, he caught sight of an approaching fly. Another fly from the railway station at Evesham.
“How dare you come here, you villain!” shouted Captain Monk, rising in threatening anger, as the fly’s inmate called to the driver to stop and began to get out of it. “Are you not ashamed to show your face to me, after the evil you have inflicted upon my daughter?”
Philip Hamlyn, smiling kindly and calmly, caught Captain Monk’s lifted hands. “No evil, sir,” he said, soothingly. “It was all a mistake. Eliza is my true and lawful wife.”