s wife without telling. Then the question, Had he a
right to tell?--for his father had not suffered the penalty of the
law and, mind you, men thought him honest."

"'Tis just," said Darrel; "but tell me, how came he to know his
father was a thief?"

"That I am thinking of, and before I answer, is there more you can
tell me of him or his people?"

Darrel rose; and lighting a torch of pine, stuck it in the ground.
Then he opened his leathern pocket-book and took out a number of
cuttings, much worn, and apparently from old newspapers. He put on
his glasses and began to examine the cuttings.

"The other day," said he, "I found an account of his mother's
death. I had forgotten, but her death was an odd tragedy."

And the tinker began reading, slowly, as follows:--

"'She an' her mother--a lady deaf an' feeble--were alone, saving
the servants in a remote corner o' the house. A sound woke her in
the still night. She lay a while listening. Was it her husband
returning without his key? She rose, feeling her way in the dark
and trembling with the fear of a nervous woman. Descending stairs,
she came into a room o' many windows. The shades were up, an'
there was dim moon-light in the room. A door, with panels o' thick
glass, led to the garden walk. Beyond it were the dark forms of
men. One was peering in, his face at a panel, another kneeling at
the lock. Suddenly the door opened; the lady fell fainting with a
loud cry. Next day the kidnapped boy was born.'"

Darrel stopped reading, put the clipping into his pocket-book, and
smothered the torch.

"It seems the woman died the same day," said he.

"And was my mother," the words came in a broken voice.

Half a moment of silence followed them. Then Darrel rose slowly,
and a tremulous, deep sigh came from the lips of Trove.

"Thy mother, boy!" Darrel whispered.

The fire had burnt low, and the great shadow of the night lay dark
upon them. Trove got to his feet and came to the side of Darrel.

"Tell me, for God's sake, man, tell me where is my father," said he.

"Hush, boy! Listen. Hear the wind in the trees?" said Darrel.

There was a breath of silence broken by the hoot of an owl and the
stir of high branches. "Ye might as well ask o' the wind or the
wild owl," Darrel said. "I cannot tell thee. Be calm, boy, and
say how thou hast come to know."

Again they sat down together, and presently Trove told him of those
silent men who had ever hau