"Well, young folks," he said cheerily, finding the lovers in each other's arms, of course, "you seem to be enjoying yourselves!"
Mary blushed and hung her head, but Dorn looked up manfully and replied, with a glad ring in his voice:
"Ah, yes, sir! I cannot tell you how happy we feel! But you, sir, may be able to know what is in the heart of a man who has been very close to a shameful death, for a crime of which he was innocent, and who is suddenly restored to life, and hope, and the love of the woman who is dearer to him than all the world beside."
"Yes, my boy," responded the good-hearted judge warmly, shaking his hand. "Yes, I do appreciate your feelings; and while congratulating you on the fortunate end of your trial, join you most heartily in thanking God that another has not been added to the already too long list of melancholy proofs of the fallibility of human wisdom in the administration of justice. But it was a providential thing for you that Mr. Holden arrived when he did, just in the nick of time."
"Indeed it was, sir. I had ceased to hope for his coming. I would like to see him before he goes away, to offer him my thanks."
"So you shall. Right away, if you wish." And stepping to the door the judge called in the little elderly gentleman, who came looking as radiant with pleasure, almost, as if it had been himself who had just escaped the gallows.
After shaking hands with Dorn, congratulating him, and receiving his thanks, Mr. Holden addressed himself to Mary and, with old-time courtesy and gallantry, made her a pretty little speech of compliment.
"You young folks intend to get married, don't you?" suddenly and bluntly asked the judge.
Mary flushed red as a peony, but smiled, and Dorn, too, felt the color rising in his cheeks as he replied, half laughingly:
"Yes, sir, if Mary doesn't change her mind."