“Sartin, I does.”

“William Bentley he said was his name, but it was Benton; he told us a story.”

“De great Lord, Molly chile, you’s foun’ him, sure—­de debbil’s got a hold on dat man, an’—­”

But I looked a warning, and he waited.

“You remember him then, Peter; he had a light moustache, a pleasing mouth—­a very nice young man we thought him to be.”

“Yas, yas, dar’s whar de mistake come in, wit dat ’ar mustaff,” said Matthias dreamily.

“What mistake?” she said.

“Oh! de good Lord bress you, honey, what does you want of dis man?”

“I want to tell him something, and I heard he was here, and now will you find him for me?”

“I will, Miss Molly, ’ef I dies dead for it—­de Lord help us.”

“Do you think you can?”

“I knows dat ar to be a fack.”

“Oh, Peter!  I am glad; where is he?”

Poor Matthias looked at me, and I said, “Now, Miss Harris, you must not talk anymore, and I will help Matthias, for I think I know where this man is.”

She shut her eyes and sank back among her pillows, looking tired and pale—­the knowledge that this destroyer of her hopes was so near was, though looked for and expected, more than she could really bear.

Mrs. Goodwin left the room, motioning to Matthias to follow, and I sat quietly thinking of what to do, when she opened her eyes and said to me: 

“I have written to Mrs. Chadwick, and also to mother, and she will send mother’s letter from Boston.  I cannot write to her of this; it would worry her so; and now, as I can see Wilmur and say to him what I desire, I shall leave you.”

“It will kill you to see him.”

“You are mistaken.  I know I look frail, but I can endure much, and I do not love him any more though he was my Mabel’s father.  I want him to go to his poor wife and do right if he can.  She loves him and is deluded into believing the strangest things.  Robberies and fires and anything he thinks of are an excuse for not sending her money.”

“Oh! he needs hanging,” I said.

“No, no, Miss Minot; if he is unfit for our society he certainly would find nobody to love him there; I am not seeking revenge, though his punishment is sure enough.  In two days more I shall be strong enough to see him.  Oh, I do hope Peter will find him!”

She needed rest, and I said: 

“Now it is best for me to go, and when I come again I would like to bring a beautiful friend.”

“Oh, yes,” she said, “and do come to-morrow!”

She bade me a reluctant “Good bye,” and I told Matthias, I wanted him to walk home with me.