Of all the curious sights this record has afforded, perhaps the most surprising was to see Captain Monk pass his arm lovingly within that of Philip Hamlyn and march off with him to Leet Hall as if he were a prize to be coveted.  “Here he is, Eliza,” said he; “he has come to cheer both you and me.”

For once in her life Eliza Hamlyn was subdued to meekness.  She kissed her husband and shed happy tears.  She was his lawful wife, and the little one was his lawful child.  True, there was an elder son; but, compared with what had been feared, that was a slight evil.

“We must make them true brothers, Eliza,” whispered Philip Hamlyn.  “They shall share alike all I have and all I leave behind me.  And our own little one must be called James in future.”

“And you and I will be good friends from henceforth,” cried Captain Monk warmly, clasping Philip Hamlyn’s ready hand.  “I have been to blame in more ways than one, giving the reins unduly to my arbitrary temper.  It seems to me, however, that life holds enough of real angles for us without creating any for ourselves.”

And surely it did seem, as Mrs. Carradyne would have liked to point out aloud, that those chimes had been fraught with messages of evil.  For had not all these blessings set in with their removal?—­even in the very hour that saw the bells taken down!

Harry Carradyne had drawn his uncle from the room; he now came in again, bringing Alice West.  Her face was a picture of agitation, for she had been made known to Captain Monk.  Harry led her up to Mrs. Hamlyn, with a beaming smile and a whisper.

“Eliza, as we seem to be going in generally for amenities, won’t you give just a little corner of your heart to her?  We owe her some reparation for the past.  It is her father who lies in that grave at the north end of the churchyard.”

Eliza started.  “Her father!  Poor George West her father?”

“Even so.”

Just a moment’s struggle with her rebellious spirit and Mrs. Hamlyn stooped to kiss the trembling girl.  “Yes, Alice, we do owe you reparation amongst us, and we must try to make it,” she said heartily.  “I see how it is:  you will reign here with Harry; and I think he will be able, after all, to let us keep Peacock’s Range.”

There came a grand wedding, Captain Monk himself giving Alice away.  But Mr. and Mrs. Hamlyn did not retain Peacock’s Range; they and their boys, the two Walters, had to look out for another local residence; for Mrs. Carradyne retired to Peacock’s Range herself.  Now that Leet Hall had a young mistress, she deemed it policy to quit it; though it should have as much of her as it pleased as a visitor.  And Captain Godfrey Monk made himself happier in these peaceful days than he had ever been in his stormy ones.

And that’s the history.  If I had to begin it again, I don’t think I should write it; for I have had to take its details from other people—­chiefly from the Squire and old Mr. Sterling, of the Court.  There’s nothing of mine in it, so to say, and it has been only a bother.