I told her of my talk with him, at the beginning of his sickness,
two weeks before I left for Sheerness, and then without giving her time
to guard against surprise, I asked:--
"Do you believe he was implicated in the Roger Wentworth tragedy?"
She looked at me a moment, and answered defiantly: "I do not believe it.
I know it. I have not spoken to any one else about it, nor shall I speak
of it again, but I saw him, and of course I hate him." She turned her
face from me, and I fancied there were tears in her eyes.
"You know that I do not favor Hamilton as your suitor?" I asked.
"Yes," she answered, still with averted face.
"And if I were to tell you that you were wrong, that Hamilton had no part
in the robbing and killing of Roger Wentworth, would you believe me?"
"No, no!" she exclaimed, turning to me quickly, with an angry gleam in
her eyes. "I tell you I saw him, and I thank God that at last I know him
as he is! After he had fought so bravely to defend me at the Old Swan, my
heart softened for a moment, and I forgot that he was a murderer. He is
brave and strong, but--why should you try to excuse him now, when you
spoke so plainly at Sundridge? I thought you were too severe then; now
I know that you told me only a part of the terrible truth. My softened
mood lasted only a short time after I left the Old Swan, and I cared not
whether he lived or died."
Hoping to put her right, I told her of the wager at the Leg Tavern, which
in my opinion fully explained George's presence on the St.
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