Sir Lawrence looked in astonishment at Kenneth, who was standing by the door; the nurses, who had followed the doctor into the room, also looked round in the utmost surprise.
"It is true, Sir Lawrence; this is my son. I have not seen him for twenty-five years, but before you all—" (he looked round at the nurses) "I own him as my lawful son and heir. I have sinned against him in the past, but from this day he shall take his proper and rightful place here. Good night, Kenneth; I must rest now."
Was the Earl wandering? Was the brain weakened as well as the heart? No, he was quite collected and calm. Moreover, they had only to glance at Kenneth standing by, with the signs of deep emotion on his face, and then to look from him to the Earl lying prostrate with exhaustion after the effort he had made; they had only to compare the two faces, to feel convinced that the words he had spoken were not the expression of some fancy of the wandering brain of delirium, but were, on the contrary, the sober words of truth and of justice.
A footman had been standing at the door with a tray in his hand, waiting to bring in beef-tea, which the nurses had ordered. He heard what was said by the Earl, and, needless to say, the news spread rapidly through the Castle. In the housekeeper's room, in the servants' hall, the strange tidings were eagerly discussed, and the stately butler, who came to the library soon afterwards, was the first to address Kenneth by the lawful title, of which he had been deprived during twenty-five years of his life.
"Dinner is served in the dining-room, my lord."
[CHAPTER XXVII]
ANOTHER CHAPTER CLOSED
SEVERAL months had gone by since that Christmas night on which Lord Derwentwater had acknowledged his son and heir, and Kenneth was now sitting once more in the little back parlour of Mrs. Hall's house, 156, Lime Street, Birmingham.
Those months had been most eventful ones, and he could hardly believe that the time he had been away had not been longer. Now, he had come to Birmingham to pack up his belongings, and to finally close his connection with the insurance company. He had been unable to leave Eagleton Castle before; his father had been loth to spare him even for a day. All the love which had been denied him for twenty-five years seemed to have accumulated, and was poured out upon him during the short time which they spent together. The Earl could hardly bear to lose sight of him even for an hour, and Kenneth devoted himself to his father, and was an unspeakable comfort and help to him in countless different ways.
Kenneth had the joy of knowing that the Earl was clinging with childlike faith to the Saviour of sinners, and that he was resting all his hopes on the finished work of Christ. He had passed away from earth, holding Kenneth's hand, only three weeks ago, and his very last words had been those which had first brought him comfort and peace: "'Faithful and just to forgive us our sins.'"