Santoine found with his blind eyes their positions in the room and acknowledged their presence; afterward he turned back to Eaton.
"I understand, I think, everything now, except some few particulars regarding yourself," he said. "Will you tell me those?"
"You mean—-" Eaton spoke to Santoine, but he looked at Harriet. "Oh, I understand, I think. When I—escaped, Mr. Santoine of course, my picture had appeared in all the newspapers and I was not safe from recognition anywhere in this country. I got into Canada and, from Vancouver, went to China. We I had very little money left, Mr. Santoine; what had not been—lost through Latron had been spent in my defense. I got a position in a mercantile house over there. It was a good country for me; people over there don't ask questions for fear some one will ask questions about them. We had no near relatives for Edith to go to and she had to take up stenography to support herself and—and change her name, Mr. Santoine, because of me."
Eaton's hand went out and clasped his sister's.
"Oh, Hugh; it didn't matter—about me, I mean!" she whispered.
"Hillward met her and asked her to marry him and she—wouldn't consent without telling him who she was. He—Lawrence—believed her when she said I hadn't killed Latron; and he suggested that she come out here and try to get employed by you. We didn't suspect, of course, that Latron was still alive. We thought he had been killed by some of his own crowd—in some quarrel or because his trial was likely to involve some one else so seriously that they killed him to prevent it; and that it was put upon me to—to protect that person and that you—"
Eaton hesitated.
"Go on," said Santoine. "You thought I knew who Latron's murderer was and morally, though not technically, perjured myself at your trial to convict you in his place. What next?"
"That was it," Eaton assented. "We thought you knew that and that some of those around you who served as your eyes must know it, too."
Harriet gasped. Eaton looking at her, knew that she understood now what had come between them when she had told him that she herself had served as her father's eyes all through the Latron trial. He felt himself flushing as he looked at her; he could not understand now how he could have believed that she had aided in concealing an injustice against him, no matter what influence had been exerted upon her. She was all good; all true!