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"Yes, and she did, the innocent child--all but this one that she

had mislaid in a book you once sent her," cried Elsa. "But I

found it, Burns. Where do you think I've been all this while? At

St. John's, where she lives with my aunt. And do you think there

was no reason for that letter being saved? God takes care of

things like this, and now you've got to pay, Nat Burns! I knew

there would come a time. I knew there would!"

She was still standing, and she drew the letter out of the

envelope.

"Look, squire, Code, any of you who know. Is this Nat's writing?"

"Yes," they all declared as the letter passed from hand to hand.

"Read it," said the squire, forcing Caroline Fuller to sit down

in his chair.

"I'll spare him hearing the first of it," said Elsa. "It is what

men write to women they love or feign to love, and it belongs to

my sister. But here"--she turned the first sheet inside

out--"listen to this."