“Suppose it was father––or you thought it might be father––and a terrible thing were hanging over him and you had not seen him for all this time––and he were in there, and I were you––wouldn’t you ask to see him first alone? Would you stop for one moment to think about being proper? What do I care! If he is an impostor, I shall know it. In one moment I shall know it. 412 I––I––just want to see him alone. It is because he has suffered so long––that is why he has come like this––if––they aren’t accusing him wrongfully, and I––he will tell me the truth. If he is Richard, I would know it if I came in and stood beside him blindfolded. I will call you in a moment. Stand by the door, and let me see him alone.”
The jailer returned, alert and important, shaking the keys in his hand. “This way, please.”
In the moment’s pause of unlocking, Betty again turned upon her father, her eyes glowing in the dim light of the corridor with wide, sorrowful gaze, large and irresistibly earnest. Bertrand glanced from her to his wife, who slightly nodded her head. Then he said to the surprised jailer: “We will wait here. My daughter may be able to recognize him. Call us quickly, dear, if you have reason to change your mind.” The heavy door was closed behind her, and the key turned in the lock.
Harry King loomed large and tall in the small room, standing with his back to the door and his face lifted to the small window, where he could see a patch of the blue sky and white, scudding clouds. For the moment his spirit was not in that cell. It was free and on top of a mountain, looking into the clear eyes of a woman who loved him. He was so rapt in his vision that he did not hear the grating of the key in the lock, and Betty stood abashed, with her back to the door, feeling that she was gazing on a stranger. Relieved against the square of light, his hair looked darker than she remembered Peter’s ever to have been,––as dark as Richard’s, but that rough, neglected beard,––also dark,––and the tanned skin, did not bring either young man to her mind.
The pause was but for a moment, when he became aware that he was not alone and turned and saw her there.
“Betty! oh, Betty! You have come to help me.” He walked toward her slowly, hardly believing his eyes, and held out both hands.
“If––I––can. Who are you?” She took his hands in hers and walked around him, turning his face to the light. Her breath came and went quickly, and a round red spot now burned on one of her cheeks, and her face seemed to be only two great, pathetic eyes.
“Do I need to tell you, Betty? Once we thought we loved each other. Did we, Betty?”
“I don’t––don’t––know––Peter! Oh, Peter! Oh, you are alive! Peter! Richard didn’t kill you!” She did not cry out, but spoke the words with a low intensity that thrilled him, and then she threw her arms about his neck and burst into tears. “He didn’t do it! You are alive! Peter, he didn’t kill you! I knew he didn’t do it. They all thought he did, and––and––your father––he has almost broken his bank just––just––hunting for Richard––to––to––have him hung––and oh! Peter, I have lived in horror,––for––fear he w––w––w––would, and––”