With sad and anxious hearts the colonel and his son next visited the house of Mr. Sim—­the dwelling-place in which the infancy, the childhood, and what may be called the youth, of the latter had been passed.

Tears gathered in the eyes of Charles as he approached the door.  He knew that his grandsire and his grandmother had acted wrongly towards him, in never speaking to him of his father, or making known to him that such a person lived; but when he again saw the house which had been the scene of a thousand happy days, round which he had chased the gaudy butterfly and the busy bee, or sought the nest of the chaffinch, the yellowhammer, and the hedge-sparrow, the feelings of boyhood rose too strong in his soul for resentment; and on meeting Mr. Sim (his grandfather) as they approached the door of the house, Charles ran towards him, and, stretching out his hand, cried, “Father!”

The old man recognised him, and exclaimed, “Charles!—­Charles!—­child of my Maria!” and wept.

At the mention of her name, the colonel wept also.

“What gentleman is this with thee, Charles?” inquired Mr. Sim.

“It is my father!” was the reply.

Mr. Sim, who was now a grey-haired man, reeled back a few paces—­he raised his hands—­he exclaimed, “Can I be forgiven?”

“Forgiven!—­ay, doubly forgiven!” answered Colonel Morris, “as the father of lost, loved Maria, and as having been more than a father to my boy, who is now by my side.  But know you nothing of my other son?  My Maria bore twins.”

“Nothing! nothing!” replied Mr. Sim; “that question has cost me many an anxious thought.  It has troubled also the conscience of my wife; for it was her fault that he also was not committed to my charge; and I would have inquired after your child long ago, but that there was no good-will between your father and me; and I was a plain, retired citizen—­he a magistrate, and a justice of the peace for the county, who could do no wrong.”

The colonel groaned.

They proceeded towards the villa together.  Mrs. Sim met her grandson with a flood of tears, and, in her joy at meeting him, she forgot her dislike to his father and her hatred to that father’s family.

The colonel endeavoured to obtain information from his father-in-law respecting his other son; and he told him all that his mother had said, of what she had spoken regarding the coachman, and also of what Charles had told him, in twice meeting one who so strongly resembled himself.

“Colonel,” said Mr. Sim, “I know the John Bell your mother speaks of; he now keeps an inn near Langholm.  To-morrow we shall go to his house, and make inquiry concerning all that he knows.”

“Be it so, father,” said the colonel.  And on the following day they took a chaise and set out together—­the grandfather, the father, and the son.

They had to cross the Annan, and to pass the churchyard where Maria slept.  As they drew near to it, the colonel desired the driver to stop.