Constance was there and alone. Lights were placed upon the table beside which she was seated. She was reading a letter at the moment, and seemed deeply interested in its contents; but on hearing his footsteps, she rose to welcome him.
"This letter relates entirely to you," she said.
"And judging from your looks it does not bring good news," he remarked.
"It does not," she rejoined. "It is from Beppy Byrom, and was brought by a special messenger from Manchester. She informs me that a warrant for your arrest has just been received by the authorities of the town, who are enjoined to offer a reward for your capture. Strict search will, consequently, be made for you, she says; and as Rawcliffe Hall may be visited, she sends this notice. She also states that it will be impossible to escape to France from any English port, as an embargo is now laid on all vessels. The letter thus concludes: 'If you have any communication with Captain Legh, pray tell him, if he should be driven to extremity, he will find an asylum in my father's house.'"
"Have you returned any answer to this kind letter?" inquired Atherton.
"No—it would not have been prudent to detain the messenger. During his brief stay, Markland took care he should not have any conversation with the servants. Father Jerome was curious to ascertain the nature of his errand, and learnt that he came from Manchester—but nothing more. I know not what you may resolve upon; but if you decide on flight, you will need funds. In this pocket-book are bank-notes to a considerable amount. Nay, do not hesitate to take it," she added, "you are under no obligation to me. The money is your own."
Thus urged, Atherton took the pocket-book, and said:
"Before I decide upon the steps I ought to take in this dangerous emergency, let me mention a matter to you that has weighed upon my mind. In yonder cabinet are certain papers which I desire to confide to your care. They contain proofs that I am the rightful heir to this property—the most important of the documents being a statement drawn up by your father, and signed by him, immediately before his death. Now listen to me, Constance. Should I fall into the hands of the enemy—should I die the death of a traitor—it is my wish that those documents should never be produced."
Constance could not repress an exclamation.
"All will be over then," he proceeded, calmly. "And why should a dark story, which can only bring dishonour on our family, be revealed? Let the secret be buried in my grave. If I am remembered at all, let it be as Atherton Legh, and not as Oswald Rawcliffe."