All now in turn shook hands with Roland, and wished him well. The young man cordially responded to all this sympathetic pleasure. Mr. Force’s friends were not quite satisfied—all was not cleared up to their contentment. They wished to know how it happened that Roland had been separated from his parents in his infancy. But the mystery, which has been revealed to the reader, was never made clear to them, though subsequently various reports got into circulation concerning the lost child—the most popular of which, originating no one knew how, was that Roland had been stolen by gypsies. This romance came finally to be received as the truth. It was late that night when the party separated and retired to rest. CHAPTER XLVII MOTHER AND SON The recovery of Elfrida Force was very rapid. When she awoke from sleep on the morning after her interview with her husband, she felt so free from pain and weariness, so refreshed in mind and body, that she wished to get up and dress, and go down into the drawing room to join her family circle. This the nurse dissuaded her from doing, but advised her to put on a wrapper, sit in an easy chair, and receive any friends she might wish to see in her own room. The first one she asked for was her husband. Abel Force came quickly, dismissed the attendant from the room, and sat down beside her, holding her hand in his own a few moments before either spoke. The squire was the first to break the eloquent silence. “Dearest, you will be glad to hear that our Roland is at liberty; is fully exonerated.” “Thank Heaven!” breathed the mother. “The morning’s papers give us the information that Stukely will be yielded up to the British authorities and will leave Washington to-day for New York, to sail on the _Scotia_, on Saturday, for Liverpool.” “Thank Heaven!” again breathed Elfrida Force. “I have had an explanation with our friends and neighbors; have told them all that they need know, and nothing more,” continued the squire. For the first time since his entrance the lady looked uneasy. “Do not distress yourself, my dear. I will tell you all that I said, and how I said it,” he added. And then he repeated, nearly word for word, all that had passed in the alcove of the ladies’ parlor on the preceding night. “Oh, Abel, how well you have managed to shield me, unworthy that I am, from all reproach!” she murmured, in a tremulous voice. “Nay, dear! Do not speak so of yourself. If I have tried to lift the burdens and dispel the shadows from about you, it is because it would have been unjust for you to suffer from them. And, Elfrida, I have had this morning an exhaustive interview with our son.” “Ah, yes! yes! What will Roland think of my long ignoring him?” sighed the mother.