“So in your savage wrath,” I said, “you killed your own father, and in your fright left mine to bear the brunt of it.” He raised his dark eyes heavily, and his thoughts were far astray from mine. He did not know what I had said, though he knew that I had spoken. The labor of calling to mind and telling his treatment of his father had worked upon him so much that he could not freely shift attention. “I came for something, something that can be only had from you,” he said, “and only since your cousin's death, and something most important. But will you believe me? it is wholly gone, gone from mind and memory!” “I am not surprised at that,” I answered, looking at his large wan face, and while I did so, losing half my horror in strange sadness. “Whatever it is, I will do it for you; only let me know by post.” “I see what you mean--not to come any more. You are right about that, for certain. But your father was good to me, and I loved him, though I had no right to love any one. My letter will show that I wronged him never. The weight of the world is off my mind since I have told you every thing; you can send me to the gallows, if you think fit, but leave it till my mother dies. Good-by, poor child. I have spoiled your life, but only by chance consequence, not in murder-birth--as I was born.” Before I could answer or call him back, if I even wished to do so, he was far away, with his long, quiet stride; and, like his life, his shadow fell, chilling, sombre, cast away. CHAPTER LIII BRUNTSEA DEFIANT Thus at last--by no direct exertion of my own, but by turn after turn of things to which I blindly gave my little help--the mystery of my life was solved. Many things yet remained to be fetched up to focus and seen round; but the point of points was settled. Of all concerned, my father alone stood blameless and heroic. What tears of shame and pride I shed, for ever having doubted him!--not doubting his innocence of the crime itself, but his motives for taking it upon him. I had been mean enough to dream that my dear father outraged justice to conceal his own base birth! That ever such thought should have entered my mind may not make me charitable to the wicked thoughts of the world at large, but, at any rate, it ought to do so. And the man in question, my own father, who had starved himself to save me! Better had I been the most illegal child ever issued into this cold world, than dare to think so of my father, and then find him the model of every thing.