Here he stopped. I hoped he would say no more, for every word he spoke
made me feel ashamed. But he went on.

"The day before we agreed to go this voyage, Margaret told me that
Arthur was concealed somewhere in the neighborhood. She didn't know what
he had done, but only that he was running away from an officer. I found
him out, and went every night to carry him something to eat."

"Why didn't she tell me?" I exclaimed. "I would have done the same."

"She would, perhaps," said he, "only that for some time you had acted so
strangely. She never said a word, but I knew it troubled her. If I had
only known of your feeling so, I would have told everything. But I
thought you must see how much I cared for Mary. Everybody else was sure
who Margaret loved, if you were not.

"Oh, Joseph," he continued, clasping my hand, "how beautiful it will be,
when we get home, now that everything is cleared up! But I haven't quite
finished. Sunday, if you remember, Margaret came in late to meeting.
While the hymn was being read, she wrote me on a slip of paper that
Arthur was gone. I wrote her back, 'Good news.' Afterwards she told me
that he came in the night to her bedroom-window to bid her
good-bye,--that he had promised her he certainly would do better.
Margaret was in better spirits that day than I had seen her for a long
while. I thought there had been an explanation between you two. Never
fear, Joseph, but that she loves you."

Jamie seemed tired after talking so much, and soon after fell asleep. I
crept into the berth underneath him. I felt like creeping somewhere.