I struggled and prayed, but ever in answer came
the same dread message:

"Go home. Confess your sins."

At length strength came; at length the battle was fought. I made up my
mind to go home, to give myself up to the officers of the law as my
brother's murderer, and in a moment the burden was gone, and I was a
free man.

I will not try to describe with what feverish anxiety I made my way
back to England. I only know that some secret power seemed to be
urging me back, and although I felt I was going to my death, I was glad
when I landed in Falmouth harbour.

Once on my native soil my love for life became strong, and I had to
fight my battle over again, or I should have had to do so if I had
allowed myself time to think of it; but I stifled all thoughts of
escape, and hurried on to my old home.

When I arrived within a mile or so of Trewinion, I paused, and began to
ponder as to what course would be best. Should I go to the village
constable, Philip Pinch? I knew him well as a lad, and had seen him
when I had been home the year before. Or should I go straight to the
old house on the cliff, and there, before my mother and servants,
confess my sins.

The desire to see the old place was so strong that I determined to take
the latter course. If I surrendered myself to Philip Pinch I should be
taken at once to the lock-up, and thence to Bodmin gaol, while if I
went home I should have one more sight of the old rooms which I had not
seen for more than eleven years.

And so, with fast-beating heart and limbs trembling, I hurried onward.
Feverishly I opened the postern door which admitted me into the grounds
surrounding the house, and then, with a pain at my heart which no words
can describe, I went up to the tower entrance and rang the bell.

CHAPTER XXVII

WITHIN THE OLD HOME

Eleven long years. Yes, it was that since I had last stood by the hall
door. I had left it with a mad passion in my heart, with fierce grief
raging within me; I returned saddened by sin, stained by crime, yet
subdued and repentant and hopeful.

I could not help thinking of this as the bell clanged within the wide
hall and echoed through the silent house, while memories of the old
days flashed like lightning through my excited brain.

How singular it was, that I, the rightful owner, should stand ringing
for admission like a stranger, and more singular still it seemed at the
time, that I should for long years have been a wander