his
face and took another look at my lost friend, my only friend; for who
was there now to care a jot for me? I might go and drown myself on
Moonfleet beach, for anyone that would grieve over me. What did it profit
me to have broken bonds and to be free again? what use was freedom to me
now? where was I to go, what was I to do? My friend was gone.

So I went back and sat with my head in my hands looking into the fire,
when I heard someone step into the room, but did not turn, thinking it
was Master Ratsey come back and treading lightly so as not to disturb me.
Then I felt a light touch on my shoulder, and looking up saw standing by
me a tall and stately woman, girl no longer, but woman in the full
strength and beauty of youth. I knew her in a moment, for she had altered
little, except her oval face had something more of dignity, and the tawny
hair that used to fly about her back was now gathered up. She was looking
down at me, and let her hand rest on my shoulder. 'John,' she said, 'have
you forgotten me? May I not share your sorrow? Did you not think to tell
me you were come? Did you not see the light, did you not know there was a
friend that waited for you?'

I said nothing, not being able to speak, but marvelling how she had come
just in the point of time to prove me wrong to think I had no friend; and
she went on:

'Is it well for you to be here? Grieve not too sadly, for none could have
died nobler than he died; and in these years that you have been away, I
have thought much of him and found him good at heart, and if he did aught
wrong 'twas because others wronged him more.'

And while she spoke I thought how Elzevir had gone to shoot her father,
and only failed of it by a hair's-breadth, and yet she spoke so well I
thought he never really meant to shoot at all, but only to scare the
magistrate. And what a whirligig of time was here, that I should have
saved Elzevir from having that blot on his conscience, and then that he
should save my life, and now that Maskew's daughter should be the one to
praise Elzevir when he lay dead! And still I could not speak.

And again she said: 'John, have you no word for me? have you forgotten?
do you not love me still? Have I no part in your sorrow?'

Then I took her hand in mine and raised it to my lips, and said, 'Dear
Mistress Grace, I have forgotten nothing, and honour you above all
others: but of love I may not speak more to you--nor you to me, for we
are no more boy an