"Then, in broken accents, he asked me, his only son, to pardon his mistakes and cruelties--he asked me to forgive him, in my dear mother's name--he acknowledged his injustices towards her. 'Would that I might live,' he said; 'for my awakened conscience urges me to repair a portion of the evils I have caused--but it is too late. Strange that I should never have given ear to the whisperings of justice--though they were often audible--till now, when there is no help! Yet is it so? cannot some reparation be made? There is one'--and as he spoke he half raised himself, and some of the wonted fire flashed from his glazed eye--but he sunk back again, saying, in a low but distinct voice, 'Falkner--Rupert Falkner--he is innocent, I know and feel his innocence--yet I have striven to bring him to the death. Let me record my belief that his tale is true, and that Alithea died the victim of her own heroism, not by his hand. Gerard, remember, report these words--save him--his sufferings have been great--promise me--that I may feel that God and Alithea will forgive me, as I forgive him; I act now as your mother would have had me act; I act to please her.' "I speak it without shame, my eyes ran over with tears, and this softening of a proud heart before the remembered excellence of one so long dead, so long thought of with harshness and resentment, was the very triumph of the good spirit of the world; yet tears were all the thanks I could give for several minutes. He saw that I was moved--but his strength was fast leaving him, and pressing my hand and murmuring, 'My last duty is now performed--I will sleep,' he turned away his head; he never spoke more, except to articulate my name, and once or twice, as his lips moved, and I bent down to listen, I heard the name of my mother breathed at the latest hour. "I cannot write more--the trial will take place, I am told, immediately--before the funeral. I shall be in Carlisle--all will go well, dear Elizabeth--and when we meet again, happier feelings will be ours. God bless you now and always, as you deserve." CHAPTER XLVIII All things now assumed an anxious aspect; all was hurrying to a conclusion. _To-morrow the trial was to come on._ "Security" is not a word for mortal man to use, more especially when the issue of an event depends on the opinions and actions of his fellow-creatures. Falkner's acquittal was probable, but not certain; even if the impression went in general in his favour, a single juryman might hold out, and perverseness, added to obstinacy, would turn the scale against him. Sickening fears crept over Elizabeth's heart; she endeavoured to conceal them; she endeavoured to smile and repeat, "This is our last day of bondage."