Entering the family sitting-room, Charles is first presented. Then from an obscure corner, with scared smile upon her face, advances Alice Webster. Both look inquiringly as they extend their hands. Bessie gazes with large, curious eyes, and all are seated.

Sir Donald has relieved the tense embarra.s.sment by some casual comments, when in the next room is heard timid, hesitating steps. Turning toward the connecting arch, Oswald's eyes meet those of Esther Randolph.

Timidly advancing, Esther extends her hand, which soon trembles in his own, but hints not at withdrawal. That palm's tremulous lingering is most subtle, yet ingenuous a.s.surance. Oswald's heart quickens at the sign.

The evening is pa.s.sed in refined conversation. Oswald's pensive musings cannot last in such environment. There is no haste to talk over past sorrows. Both Oswald and Charles recall having met on that "tramp"

steamer.

As if for Oswald's better a.s.surance, Esther lingers near, never seeming at ease except in his presence. At times she gazes upon that erratic erstwhile suitor as if fearful he again may leave upon some strange journey. Often to Esther it seems Oswald is unduly reserved, fearing long looking into her eyes or lingering touches of that confiding hand as useless toying with forbidden things. Her woman's intuition suggests the cause. Upon the lake's wooded sh.o.r.e years ago did she not respond to that eloquent avowal with stated consecration upon the altar of self-sacrifice? Oswald may believe that this decision is final. Too, this handsome, fascinating, imperious, masterful man has been away ample time to grow cold or meet some other attraction.

In their tete-a-tetes Esther shows continuing interest for charitable matters. She tells about Paris and Calcutta hospitals. Those calls at cabins in Calcutta suburb are related with harrowing incidents of the mothers' poverty. Oswald listens intently, but does not moralize. Esther looks troubled, and refers to happenings when Oswald first visited Northfield and Alice Webster was her guest. That quiet listener hears all, but seems in pensive reverie.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THIS SAGE REPLY IS HEARD BY THE EAVESDROPPING BESSIE."]

They are sitting in secluded bower within the mansion grounds. Sir Donald is taking his accustomed afternoon nap. Alice and Charles are out for a drive. Bessie is just awake, and has come out to survey her vested belongings. Esther hears the child's happy humming, and looking appealingly at Oswald, propounds this puzzling interrogatory:

"Under all the circ.u.mstances, Mr. Langdon, would you advise a young girl, with--with such a good home--who has such a kind father and brother--and--well--you know--like me--to--to--spend her life in hospitals?"

Quickly looking into that flushed face and those questioning eyes, Oswald needs no further a.s.surance. Impulsively encircling the unresisting form, he answers upon those upturned lips. This sage reply is heard by the eavesdropping Bessie, who, as self-const.i.tuted ceremonial dictator, emerges and joins their hands in the wordless betrothal.

Soon, slowly leading Esther and carrying that spoiled four-year-old toward the mansion, Oswald says:

"I will speak to your father." Esther's reply is a happy smile.

Thomas Webster's Calcutta trip had been a complete success. Alice received a letter from her Uncle Thomas, and expected him to be at Northfield within six weeks. A double wedding is set for a date soon after that uncle's Northfield visit. Oswald returns to his father's home and tells the good news. By Esther's and Sir Donald's special request, the rector soon accompanies Oswald back to Northfield. In this hospitable mansion father and son spend much of the time until those nuptial ceremonies.

Sir Donald receives a letter from Thomas Webster requesting him to be in London on a certain date. These two allies hold a conference, and upon the following day Pierre Lanier is released from prison. There had been no formal charge requiring investigation. All concerned had acquiesced in this irregular, unauthorized detention. Having fully accomplished that Calcutta mission, and received, direct to Alice, transfers of all property listed by Pierre Lanier, there could be no possible good result from longer detention of this miserable man.

Pierre is stupefied by this unexpected release. He seems neither elated nor curious at such good fortune. Sir Donald was at the prison when Pierre came out. They walked away together. To Sir Donald's question:

"What can I now do for you, Mr. Lanier?" there is a long silence, then comes reply:

"How is Paul?"

Hearing that Paul is being kindly treated, Pierre looks grateful, and says:

"That is right. Paul is not to blame."

Sir Donald now offers to do all in his power for Pierre's future comfort, adding:

"I will consider it a privilege to help you."

Pierre smiles vacantly, stands in reverie, then extending his hand, in low tones says:

"My boy is innocent! His father did it all."

With Sir Donald's a.s.surance that in a few days he will meet Pierre at a designated place in London, and tell him some good news, they separate.

When first confined in the asylum Paul had been fierce and violent. This was followed by more pacific moods, and he became quite tractable. At times Paul indulged in childish speech, and cried for his father's coming. After a long reverie Paul once said:

"No, I did not drown them! That was Alice at--at--what's the name of that place? That strong fellow could swim. What's his name? Yes, that's it."

Within a week after Thomas Webster's return occurred those happy nuptials. Because of tragic happenings there were few invited guests.

All had resulted well. Past sorrows cast their inevitable forward shadows, but the present is nevertheless joyous in full content, luminous with halo of future hopes.

Each day Pierre Lanier calls at the asylum. Through Sir Donald's previous suggestion, Pierre is accorded special privileges. Paul grows hysterically joyful when his father comes. Alone after these oft-recurring visits, Paul sobs bitterly.

From Sir Donald and Thomas Webster Pierre scrupulously declines any offers of personal a.s.sistance. This is not through pique or pride.

That rest.i.tution had been in nature of a bid for Paul's deliverance, but these would-be almoners were not contracting parties. To his clingingly audacious supplications in behalf of the crazed Paul, Pierre had heard an imperious voice whisper:

"Do equity!"

Pierre is not quite sure that this is a divinely stated "condition precedent," but will treat it as such.

With gropingly tenacious faith he stumbles toward this hinted adjudication. Without suspicion of selfish motive or accepted personal benefit, Pierre will keep his part of the solemn pact.

"Paul is not to blame!" That awful inherited taint and a father's dominating, all-consuming greed!

These are at least mitigating claims.

Who may contest Paul's right "before the face of the Most High"?

Paul seems improving. Pierre is elated. That shriveled heart pulses with new hope. He even presumes to thank heaven for covenant fealty. With consummate audacity Pierre now hopes there may be found some "extenuating circ.u.mstances" in his own case.

Soon after the nuptials Sir Donald meets Pierre Lanier in London and tells him of the marriage ceremonies. Pierre turns pale, stares, and sinks upon the floor of his room. Sir Donald supports the trembling form. The romantic coincidences are partly related. Pierre smiles hopefully. Sir Donald invites him to confirm the queer story by a visit to Northfield, but Pierre is fully convinced.

"Then Paul did not kill them! My boy is innocent! Excuse me, please; now I will go to the asylum."

Sir Donald and Thomas Webster return to Northfield. Neither newly married couple took a wedding journey. The four had planned spending their honeymoons at Paris. Just before the nuptials, in presence of that little autocrat now nearing the ripe age of five years, Sir Donald is speaking about some objects of interest to be visited by these travelers. Bessie begins to cry, and clinging to Esther's hand, says:

"Stay here with me and papa!"

There is instant approval. Oswald says, "Why not?" Sir Donald and Uncle Thomas both declare in favor of the change; Alice joyously a.s.sents; Charles announces his cheerful acquiescence; Esther kisses Bessie and is smilingly content.

Uncle Thomas tells about meeting Mr. and Mrs. Dodge while at Calcutta.

When William Dodge was released from custody he accepted a lucrative position obtained for him by Thomas Webster, and promised when required to testify about the Lanier conspiracy against Alice. This weak-principled man still retained the position, and was waiting to comply with his agreement.

That a.s.sistant sleuth who had trailed the Laniers from Southampton to Bombay, accompanied old "Josiah Peters" over to Calcutta, then shadowed Sir Donald and Esther, kept track of Lanier peregrinations until this pair landed in London, watched at the alley cabin, followed both along the Thames, and was present at their final arrests, had gone on a recent trip to Alaska gold fields.

Alice Randolph insists on Uncle Thomas accepting fifty thousand pounds for his services and reimburs.e.m.e.nt. The uncle proposes a compromise of half that sum, but Alice and Charles are obstinate. To avoid a serious rupture between relatives, Uncle Thomas yields.

In their complete content pity is felt for Paul Lanier. Alice cannot forget her part in that Bombay tableau or in those lake promptings.

Looking at Bessie, they often think of that crazed outlaw's strange caprice in sparing lives of Northfield sleepers upon the memorable night.

It is with much satisfaction that all learn of Paul's possible recovery.

Pierre's strange rest.i.tution and refusal to accept any aid from either Sir Donald or Thomas Webster is matter for frequent Northfield comment.

Paul grows more tractable, showing signs of returning reason. Pierre becomes devoutly thankful.