"Go on!" said Cap, without removing her eyes.
"Cap, I was--a jealous passionate--Demmy, confession isn't in my line.
A diabolical villain made me believe that my poor little wife wasn't
good!"
"There! I knew you'd lay it on somebody else. Men always do that," said
Cap, to herself.
"He was mortally wounded in Mexico. He made a confession and confided
it to Herbert, who has just sent me an attested copy. It was Le Noir.
My poor wife lived under her girlhood's name of Marah Rocke." Old
Hurricane made a gulp, and his voice broke down.
Cap understood all now, as well as if she had known it as long as Old
Hurricane had. She comprehended his extreme agitation upon a certain
evening, years ago, when Herbert Greyson had mentioned Marah Rocke's
name, and his later and more lasting disturbance upon accidentally
meeting Marah Rocke at the Orphans' Court.
This revelation filled her with strange and contradictory emotions. She
was glad; she was angry with him; she was sorry for him; she was
divided between divers impulses to hug and kiss him, to cry over him,
and to seize him and give him a good shaking! And between them she did
nothing at all.
Old Hurricane was again the first to speak.
"What was that you wished to say to me, Cap, when I ran away from you
this morning?"
"Why, uncle, that Herbert wants to follow your example,
and--and--and----" Cap blushed and broke down.
"I thought as much. Getting married at his age! A boy of twenty-five!"
said the veteran in contempt.
"Taking a wife at your age, uncle, an infant of sixty-six!"
"Bother, Cap! Let me see that fellow's letter to you."
Cap handed it to him and the old man read it.
"If I were to object, you'd get married all the same! Demmy! you're
both of age. Do as you please!"
"Thank you, sir," said Cap, demurely.
"And now, Cap, one thing is to be noticed. Herbert says, both in your
letter and in mine, that they were to start to return the day after
these letters were posted. These letters have been delayed in the mail.
Consequently we may expect our hero here every day. But Cap, my dear,
you must receive them. For to-morrow morning, please the Lord, I shall
set out for Staunton and Willow Heights, and go and kneel down at the
feet of my wife, and ask her pardon on my knees!"
Cap was no longer divided between the wish to pull Old Hurricane's gray
beard and to cry over him. She threw herself at once into his arms and
exclaimed: "Oh, uncle! God bless you! God bless you! God bless you! It has come
very late in life, but may you be happy with her through all the ages
of eternity!"