"I looked down at her and spoke gently. She noticed the changed tone in my voice and raised her head. 'Hector!' she cried in strange surprise. "Stooping down I raised her gently. I felt no desire for revenge; all my savage feelings were swept away. I loved her, loved Lenise Elroy, who had so deeply wronged me, with an undying love. I knew I had always loved her, even when in prison, and my feelings were bitterest against her. She saw something of this in my face. I kissed her and held her close to me. From that moment, Picton, I forgave all, she was very dear to me. No matter how she had sinned I knew she had always been mine. I remembered how she surrendered herself to me; I recognized that I had tempted her, as she had tempted me; that we were both guilty, that had I behaved as a man, and kept away from her, the tragedy which blighted so many lives would not have happened. "We sat side by side and did not speak. The wonder of it all swept over us and held us silent. We looked into each other's eyes and read our thoughts. She was transfigured, a different woman, a new soul had entered her body, she was not the Lenise Elroy of old days. I felt all this; I was certain I could rely upon her. She spoke at last, and said she would write a confession which I could place in your hands to do as you wished with; she would abide the consequences. I have sent this to you, Picton, knowing you will never make it public, but hide it in some place until our deaths take place. You can read it to our old friend Sir Robert, and Captain Ben, and any one else you think ought to know, and that you can depend upon to keep silent. It is short, but true, and she has signed it. "Perhaps the strangest news of all for you is that we are married, and are now Mr. and Mrs. Rolfe. I wished it to take place at once, and she was willing to do anything I asked. "As Mr. and Mrs. William Rolfe, we sail for Melbourne in a fortnight, where I shall go up country and buy a small station somewhere. We intend to keep out of the world, to live for ourselves. Lenise wishes it, she says a lifelong devotion to me will only help to blot out the past. Of her love I am certain; she is not demonstrative, but I catch her sometimes unawares, and her face expresses her thoughts. Forgive her as I have, Picton, write her a kindly letter, tell her she has done right, wish her happiness in her new life. We shall not come to Haverton; it is better not.