"The boy is right enough," cried the colonel; "what he says is perfectly true. He wanted more of earnest purpose, and the ordeal that he has just undergone will give it to him. He shall not suffer for the mistake. I will say now what I have never said before--Claude shall be my heir; and," added the colonel, with unconscious egotism, "the world will easily pardon the youthful escapades of the master of Oakton Park."
So Claude's mother did not return quite broken-hearted to London. The trial had been a nine days' wonder--a great sensation; but people seemed more inclined to blame the stupidity of Hyacinth's relatives than the young man, whose fault had been simply that of loving a lovely girl too well. Mrs. Lennox watched anxiously to see if her son had lost caste; but she could not perceive that he had. He was heir of the rich old Indian colonel--heir of Oakton Park. The Duchess of Grandecourt invited him to Rummere Park, and Lady Ansley gave him pretty clearly to understand that her daughter knew how to appreciate him.
"No great harm has been done," sighed the anxious mother, "and I may thank that brave young girl for matters being no worse."
On the third day after the assizes had begun a gentleman--a stranger--drove up hurriedly to the Loadstone court-house. His handsome face was white and haggard, his eyes were dim with fear. He looked as though he had been travelling night and day, and had known neither sleep nor rest. He sprung impatiently from the carriage and hurried up the steps of the court-house. He saw one of the officers standing inside, and he went up to him eagerly.
"Has the trial for murder commenced?" he asked.
"It is over, sir. It was finished the day that it was begun."
"Tell me all about it, please. Make haste--my time is precious. Was there a young lady--did a young lady come to give evidence?"
"Yes; and her evidence saved the prisoner's life, sir. I will tell you as briefly as I can."
He repeated what had taken place, and as he spoke, an expression of pity came over the handsome face of the listener.
"Poor child," he murmured to himself--"my brave, noble love! What was the young lady's name?" he asked, aloud.
"Vaughan, sir--I remember it well--Hyacinth Vaughan."