Such were the contents of the mysterious letter, which were well calculated to stir to their depths the hearts of both the squire and his sister, who looked at each other as those look who become suddenly conscious of a common misfortune. A spell seemed on their tongues. At last the silence was broken by Walter.
“Dear father! dear auntie!” he exclaimed, “whatever is the matter?”
“Matter enough, I fear,” said his father sadly.—“There, Kate, let him look at the letter.”
Walter read it, and his eyes filled with tears. Busy thoughts chased one another through his brain, and very sad and humbling thoughts they were. He understood now much that had once seemed strange in Amos. He began to appreciate the calm and deep nobility of his character, the tenacity of his grasp on his one great purpose. He gave back the letter to his father with downcast eyes, but without making any remark upon it.
And now, what was to be done? As soon as breakfast was over, the three, by Mr Huntingdon’s desire, met in the library. The letter was laid on the table before them, and the squire opened the discussion of its contents by saying to his sister, “What do you make out of this miserable business, Kate?”
“Plainly enough,” was her reply, “poor Julia is in great distress. I gather that her cruel and base husband has been removing, or intending to remove, her two children from Amos’s charge, and that she is afraid they will be utterly ruined if they continue in their father’s hands. Poor thing! poor thing! I pity her greatly.”
Her brother did not speak for a while, but two big tears fell on his daughter’s letter, as he bent over it trying to conceal his emotion. “And what do you think about it, my boy?” he said to his son, when he had in some degree recovered his composure.
“Aunt Kate is right, no doubt,” replied Walter, “but that is not all. It strikes me that my sister wrote the first part of this letter of her own head, but not the last. I should not wonder if that scamp of a fellow her husband has found her out writing, and has forced her to add the last words, intending to bring poor Amos into trouble some way or other.”
“I believe the boy is right,” said Mr Huntingdon anxiously; “but then, what is to be the next step?”
“Surely,” said his sister, “you ought to send out some one immediately to follow up Amos, and see that no harm comes to him.”