They all looked up at me with some expectation when I came in.

“Where have you been so early, Bawn?” my grandmother asked, while Uncle Luke came and set a chair for me and stood smiling at me; I was glad that in those waste places of the earth he had not forgotten those fine debonair ways which of old had made the women fall in love with him.

“I have been to Castle Clody,” I answered.

“I thought as much.  Why did not Mary come back with you?  Was she transported at the good news?”

“She thought perhaps that Uncle Luke would——­”

I paused for words.  I had a feeling that even in this case, where I was sure that Uncle Luke cared for his old love, I should respect my godmother’s dignity.  Even Luke L’Estrange ought not to be sure that she expected him.

“I thought she would have come to rejoice with us,” my grandmother said disappointedly; and my grandfather’s face showed that he, too, did not understand the constant friend’s absence in the hour of great joy.

“Is it that she cannot forgive us?” he muttered.

But the lover knew better than that.

“To be sure I must go to her,” he said.  “It would not be fitting that she should come to me.  I would have been earlier astir than Bawn; I would have been waiting for her doors to open, only that—­there is something that must be done first.”

“I don’t think there is anything you need wait for, Uncle Luke,” I said, handing the sealed packet to my grandfather.  “I met Richard Dawson on my way back.  He was waiting for some one to carry his message.  He told me that my grandfather was to examine these papers, to see that everything was there, and afterwards to burn them.”

My grandfather seized the papers eagerly.  His hand shook so that he could not open them, and he fumbled for his glasses.

“You have a son now, sir,” said Uncle Luke, putting an arm about his shoulder.

They went away to the window to examine the papers, and for some time there was silence in the room.  At last my uncle gathered the lot together and going to the fire placed them on top of it.  They caught; and in a few seconds there was no trace of them.

“How little or how much of this Garret Dawson believed to be true I leave to his Maker,” he said, turning about as the last ash went up the chimney.  “For his son’s sake I shall not try to punish him.  I believe some of these letters were forged.  I will show you one of these days letters from the girl I saved from Jasper Tuite.  For that is how it was.  She is an honoured wife and mother of children.  It is one of the few things in my life of which I may be proud.”

Afterwards he went away and we knew that he was gone to Castle Clody.