"Mary Ursula!"
"It seems so. She was there with a lantern, I gather. Father, you will, doubtless, learn all the explanation you wish; I cannot give it. You know what this shot has done for me?"
The Master did not answer.
"It is my death. I forced Croft to tell me. By to-night all will be over."
Mr. Castlemaine, striving and struggling to maintain composure, broke down helplessly at the last words, and sobbed aloud with an emotion never before betrayed by him to man. The distress to Harry was all too great; he had been truly attached to his indulgent father.
"For my sake, father!--for the little time I have to stay!" he said, imploringly. And the Master smothered his grief as he best might.
With his hand held between his father's, and his sad eyes beseeching pardon for the offence which in strong life he had dreaded to tell, Harry Castlemaine made his confession: Jane Hallet was his wife. It was somewhat of a shock, no doubt, to the Master of Greylands, but it fell with comparative lightness on his ear: beside the one vast trouble close at hand, others seemed as nothing. Jane might be his son's wife; but his son would not live to own her as such to the world.
"Do you forgive me, father? That it was wrong, I am aware; but only myself know how dearly I grew to love her. The place has been heaping scorn upon her, but she bore it all for my sake, knowing she would be cleared when I could declare it to you."
"She has not deserved the scorn, then?"
"Never. I would not have sought to hurt a hair of her head. Say you forgive me, father!--the moments are passing."