"Oh if I had been able to tell her!" returned the girl, impulsively clasping her hands. "It was very hard to bear, madam, all that blame; but I tried to be patient. And many might have thought nearly as ill of me for letting one so much above me make me his wife."
"Has no one at all known it?" asked Mary.
"Only old Mrs. Dance. She has known it from the first. We used to meet at her cottage."
"Well, Jane, what is done cannot be undone. You are his wife, it seems, and have been undeserving of the reproach of light conduct passed upon you. So far I am, for your sake, glad. He has asked to see you. You can go in."
So Jane Hallet--no longer Hallet, however,--crept into the chamber, where her husband lay dying, and stood by his side, her heart breaking.
"Don't grieve, Jane, more than you can help," he said, clasping her hand. "This will answer one good end: you will be cleared."
She fell on her knees, weeping silent tears. "To save your life I would remain under the cloud for ever," she sighed. "Oh, is there no hope?--is there no hope?"
"Well, we shall see: the doctor will be here soon," said Harry evasively. "There! dry your tears, Jane; take heart, my dear."
And the doctor came without much further delay, and examined his patient, and found that a bullet had lodged itself within him.
"There must be an operation," said he, smoothing over his grave face. And he hastened to despatch a messenger on a fleet horse for Surgeon Croft, the most clever operating surgeon in Stilborough.