Judging from many articles appearing in the _News Letter_, I suspected that Hamilton was a contributor, if not the editor. If either, he was piling up trouble, should he be discovered.
On leaving the Old Swan, I went back to the palace and met Frances at the Holbein Gate, cloaked and bonneted, ready to go to see her father.
I offered to accompany her, and we took a coach at Charing Cross for Sir Richard's house.
My conscience had troubled me because I had done nothing to clear Hamilton of her unjust suspicions. Up to that time I had found no opportunity to speak to her privately after my return from Sheerness, nor had I fully made up my mind to try to convince her that George was not guilty of Roger's death. But when she and I entered the coach to go to her father's house, I broached the subject:--
"You remember, cousin," I began, "what I said to you in Hamilton's presence on the Bourne Path?"
"Every word," she replied. "It was all true, and I shall be grateful so long as I live."
"But what I said at that time did not seem to cause you to hate him?" I continued, wondering what her reply would be.
"No," she answered, with slight hesitancy. "It did not."
"Is the aversion you now feel toward him the result of what I said at that time?" I asked.
"No, no," she returned quickly. Then suddenly checking herself, she demanded, "Why do you speak of my aversion to him, and what do you know about it?"
I told her that I knew all the particulars of her meeting with Hamilton at the Old Swan, of her refusal to recognize him and of the fight that ensued. 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?"