CHAPTER XLV SUMNER DALTON’S CONFESSION The telegram was from Paul Tressalia, and extremely startling and imperative in its nature. “Mr. Dalton can live but a short time,” it said, “and begs continually for you. Come at once. Editha also desires it.” Earle was deeply excited by what he read. George Sumner Dalton dying!—face to face at last with the terrible messenger who, sooner or later, comes to summon all! He was asking for _him_—longing for the son whom he had wronged and hated all his life-long. For the moment Earle’s heart rebelled at the thought of going to him; for if he went, he felt he must be prepared to give him comfort in his last hours; he must be ready to forgive everything—his own and his mother’s wrongs, and be at peace with the man who was soon to stand before the Supreme Judge to answer for his earthly career. Could he do this in all sincerity? He stood there in the grand hall of his ancestors, with bent head and stern, corrugated brow, asking himself these questions over and over again. Then the words that he had spoken only a little while before to Tom Drake came to his mind: “Forgive, _as_ we are forgiven.” It was as if Marion’s gentle spirit, hovering over him, had whispered the words in his ear—as if from the realms of peace, where she dwelt, she had brought him an olive branch to bear across the waters to the erring, dying one. “I will go,” he said, at last, a pitiful expression replacing the stern look, a grave though kindly light beaming from his eyes. “I will go, and God help me to go in the right spirit. Editha, too, desires it,” he repeated, reading from the telegram, “and that of itself should make me willing.” And yet, much as he longed to see the beloved one once more, he felt as if he could never endure a second parting from her. Then graver thoughts presented themselves. If Mr. Dalton should die, what would become of Editha? She had not a friend in the world on whom to depend; would she feel that she could now return with him and share his home? The matter troubled him deeply, and yet he clearly felt that it would be his duty henceforth to protect and care for her. He went into the library and consulted the papers. A steamer would sail the next day from London, and he decided that he would go at once. He might not be in time to see Mr. Dalton alive, but he would not delay; he would do his best to grant his request, let the result be what it might. He disliked very much leaving Tom just at this time. He knew that he depended upon him for encouragement, and would doubtless be very much depressed, if not discouraged, if he went away for any length of time. But it could not be helped, and the test might be beneficial. It would at all events teach him self-reliance, and perhaps prove the man’s sincerity better than in any other way. He went at once to him, and said: