It was composed of three papers. The first I laid aside after carelessly glancing at it. 'Twas the common recovery by which Sir Hugh Winchester barred the estate tail, and attached to it the instrument by which he took it back again to hold in fee simple.

The next was a bulky document in which my father solemnly transferred all his estates to Sir Robert Vane in trust. "Nevertheless to hold the same for the benefit and advantage of my second son, now beyond the seas—Thomas Winchester." And below he had scrawled his name.

I folded the document together again—so that homely old saying had come to pass, that "curses like chickens come home to roost." I had never loved my father, he had meant naught to me but a name, but at that moment I pitied him. He had hated me without a cause and his sin had brought its own punishment. And so thinking I opened the third and last paper—it ran thus:

"Richmond Castle,
April 10, 1588.

"Thomas:—As I lie here to-night, I realize that in a few hours I must pass out to meet that God, whom I have never served or obeyed. I have done little of good in this world; have lived only for self, my own desire and enjoyment my only thought. I know of not one soul whom I have ever helped or assisted during the whole of my miserable life, but on the contrary there are many whom I have wronged and injured, who will rejoice as they hear the news of my death.

"I have wronged thee most of all, for I allowed that villain, Richard, to play upon my dislike of thee, until I did thee that last injury and drove thee from England. I have paid for my sin in agony and torture; my life since thou left has been a living death. There has been no night for months that I have not writhed in anguish, and to add to my sufferings, Richard has done all in his power to be-devil me, thinking that he had the estates safe.

"I have made what little reparation I could, and have disinherited him, and transferred all the property to thy friend Sir Robert Vane, to hold in trust for thee; for something tells me thou art alive, and will yet come to claim thy own. Death, my son, will be a boon to me—it will at last end my agony in this world. I trust that my God will take into consideration my suffering here, in measuring my punishment in the life to come.

"And now I will close forever. I cannot ask thee to forgive me, I have sinned too deeply. I only ask thee to remember that if I have wronged thee I have been repaid; for every drop of suffering that has been wrung from thy brow, I have sweated two—for every groan thou hast uttered, I have groaned thrice. So thou dost see, that even in this world, we are repaid for our sins, for as a man makes his bed so shall he lie.

"Farewell,
"Richmond."

I held the paper in my hand, and from my long dry eyes there fell a tear, as though in tribute to one who had sinned and suffered. I knew he had repented bitterly the injury he had done me, and from the bottom of my heart I forgave him. I looked up at Marsden, who sat opposite, eying me as a cat gazes at a mouse.

"But thou dost forget that I am a fugitive from justice, and if I set foot in England to claim the estate, the Queen will hang me."

He threw up his hands in despair.

"I had forgotten that; thy estates are forfeited to the Crown as those of a traitor, and thy father's disposition of them goes for naught. 'Tis maddening with only that between thee and fortune—fool that I was not to think of it! Shall I have the papers back again?" he said. "They are of no value to thee."

"No," I answered. "Did I give them back to thee, thou wouldst sell them to Richard, and 'tis best that they remain in my hands."